Are Bookshops even relevant anymore?
Ah yes, it looks like the monster that lives on Hunter Street has claimed another victim. You know the one that sounds like a jackhammer, can’t decide whether to slow or go and thinks that construction sheik is the look of 2018. How, why, when you ask? Well a local favourite seems to be donning a large and very unwelcome piece of decoration, a for sale sign. Now sure, nothing has been confirmed or denied re: if it’s the upstairs part of the building which is for sale, or the shop or the whole town could be up for auction for all we know, but what I do want to know, is… are bookshops even relevant anymore?
I mean, why do we need books when I can look at my phone and stare at videos of Fiona the baby hippo for 6 hours on end? Why do I need books if I can spend my time getting lost in an Instagram rabbit hole of someone I’ve ever met before? Why do I need to read about anything or anyone when I can just watch the documentary? And books take up space. Bookshelves… wot? What good are books? What benefit can we gain from sitting down, reading, using our minds and imagination to transport ourselves to another world? Why, we have virtual reality for that now, I can put on a head set and my hands can be free to hold an imaginary sword and fight imaginary lions and tigers and bears oh my, what good is something that I have to actually pay attention to?
We’re already well on the way to trading in the majority of our brain power and surrendering to the everyday mundane and simply being fine with it all. Surely spending hours and hours and hours staring at words on a page can’t be fun. That whole shebang sounds fake to me so no wonder the bookshop is closing… We don’t read books, we don’t need books, so what’s the point of bookshops?
Ok fine… For those of you who know me, surely you can feel the sarcasm pouring from the page to the screen straight to you from wherever you are. Here’s hoping this article outraged you enough to get to the end that really matters. You know, here’s hoping you actually read it. Here’s hoping that you felt frustrated enough to leap to the defence of Rice’s Bookshop, bookshops in general and of course the pure and simple beauty of the written word. Think about this, when you’re reading a book, you cannot do anything else. Reading a book is a chance to sit, think, feel, and simply be. So why not pick up the book that’s been sitting on your bedside table for months and months. The one your Mum gave you for Christmas (let’s be honest it’s probably a copy of the Barefoot Investor… isn’t it?) and get lost in a world that is entirely you own. Looking for something to read? Why not head into Rice’s bookshop, or MacLean’s, or Q’s, or Cookshill Books, of the Book Grocer, or click on Secret Book Stuff or any Bookshop you choose and read. Save yourself, save the shop, and do a whole bunch of good.
