"Books are the immortality of the race, the father and mother of most that is worthwhile cherishing in our hearts. To spread good books about, to sow them on fertile minds, to propagate understanding and a carefulness of life and beauty, isn’t that high enough mission for a man? The bookseller is the real Mr. Valiant-For-Truth." – Mr. Roger Mifflin, Proprietor of 'The Haunted Bookshop'
I am wild for bookstores, in particular used bookstores. In fact, I can no longer visit a place, no matter how small the village or urban the setting, without seeking out at least one of these delightful sanctuaries. Honestly, no trip is complete without a stop and at least one purchase of a new-to-me hardcover or paperback for my home shelf. And while my family may roll their eyes as mine sparkle in anticipation of a quick sojourn, they are still very supportive of my obsession and I have to thank them dearly for that! While I seek out a treasure, they are typically up to some sort of antics amongst the more deserted aisles. I like to track down a piece by a local author if possible; otherwise anything from my list will suit. If you happen to be haunting one of these establishments as well, you would likely see me on my phone trying to access my Goodreads account.
Now, if an actual bookstore visit is not feasible, then reading about a bookstore may be second-best. There are a lot of choices out there right now for ‘books about books’ or novels about these sort of shops, but this is one of the earliest works out there that I have come across personally. Christopher Morley wrote this utterly charming novel, The Haunted Bookshop in 1918. Don’t be misled by the title, however, because you won’t get any spine-tingling sensations or need to stay up at night with the lights on after reading this one. (If you do find a goose bump or two, those would be likely due to the thought of all those books.) You see, the ‘haunting’ in this novel is of a different sort from anything you might read by Shirley Jackson or Stephen King (or insert favorite horror writer here). As Roger Mifflin, the very enlightened and often witty proprietor of the shop states: "That’s why I call this place the Haunted Bookshop. Haunted by the ghosts of the books I haven’t read. Poor uneasy spirits, they walk and walk around me. There’s only one way to lay the ghost of a book, and that is to read it."
Roger and wife, Helen, run this cozy little store in Brooklyn. When a young advertising agent by the name of Aubrey Gilbert walks into the shop to solicit his services (much to Mifflin’s dismay, as he is opposed to paying for such a thing when the books should speak for themselves), a friendship develops. This is shortly followed by the employment of a new assistant in the bookstore, the lovely and affluent Titania. The addition of these two into Mifflin’s little circle enables him to expound on his love of literature, his ideas regarding booksellers, his thoughts on the evils and futility of war, and his desire for world peace (most of which can be accomplished by widespread book-reading, naturally.)
"Printer’s ink has been running a race against gunpowder these many, many years. Ink is handicapped, in a way, because you can blow up a man with gunpowder in half a second, while it may take twenty years to blow him up with a book. But the gunpowder destroys itself along with its victim, while a book can keep on exploding for centuries."
There is a mystery to be found here as well, when a copy of one of Mifflin’s books disappears and reappears several times, and can even be seen in the hands of some unlikely readers. Mifflin of course is simply delighted to find that someone would wish to read a book badly enough that he would steal in order to do so. Aubrey Gilbert, however, suspects there may be more to the story than this. Having become instantly enamored with Titania, he feels it is his duty to protect her at all costs from any potential dangers lurking in the corners of the shop (whether she feels the need for such care or not.) Gilbert is no Sherlock Holmes, however, so things get a bit sticky when he puts his very amateur sleuthing skills to work. The mystery was intriguing and not quite what I expected. This was a fun romp through the neighborhoods of Brooklyn, culminating in an adventurous last scene! You may even bite a nail here if you feel so inclined!
I thoroughly enjoyed this tale of a very affable bookseller. I wouldn’t mind sitting down with Mr. Mifflin and having him read a bit of Dickens out loud to me over a cup of tea. He was a charming companion, and one with whom I can spend some more time in Parnassus on Wheels. I’ve apparently read these two books out of order, but I don’t think that spoils things too much. I look forward to another chat with both Roger and Helen next time around.
"There is no one so grateful as the man to whom you have given just the book his soul needed and he never knew it."