I am starting to lose track of the stories I tell on here, but I am pretty sure this one is still new. When I first went down to my favourite second-hand bookstore years and years ago, I was looking for Stevenson’s Treasure Island. I had just gone to a similar store in the vicinity and had been treated quite poorly. Terrible service, too large a store for its own good, impossible staff, etc. This store, on the other hand, was a welcome bit of respite from the disappointment. A little nook in the wall, incense burning, bearded bookseller, yellowed pages, 2 small sections in the store but packed from the ceiling to the floor. I was overwhelmed and overjoyed. As I searched for “S”, another customer came in. He greeted the owner by name, and the owner returned the favour. “Oh, a regular” I thought, and kept on looking. Several minutes later, I tuned in to what I can only describe as conversational detritus. The owner was engaged in a heated debate about the moon landing. And we all know how he was coming at the topic! The conversation seemed to have been started by the customer, who was returning each point with an agreement and a further step into the land of conspiracy theory. “Wow. This is the place to be, eh?” I remember thinking. If you have ever been to a second-hand store, you know that the rarest editions of treasures are found in these stores. I was not wrong. I kept going back. It has been many years since that rainy day – there are now two lovely owners in the place of that burly, bearded owner. I know them both by name and vice-versa (though I don’t love discussing the moon landing or contactless payment, only literature). They will discuss Heidegger and Russian literature with me, and I will nod, pretending as if I am in that ballpark. But all these years later, Bythell has given me a typology for that customer – Genus: Homo qui maleficas amat (Occultist); Type Two, Species: Homo qui coniurationes fervet (Conspiracy Theorist).
Though many might take this book to be a joke, those of us who have spent the equivalent of weeks in such stores know 2 or 3 examples for each specification. A few of my favourites?
- Genus: Peritus (Expert); Type One, Species: Doctus (Specialist). “This is the kind of person who comes into the shop for no other reason than to lecture you about whatever their field of specialist interest is, and derives a singular pleasure when you know absolutely nothing about it, as you almost certainly won’t.”
- Genus: Homo qui desidet (Loiterer); Type Three, Species: Coniunx Vexata (Bored Spouse). “The bored spouse can be recognised immediately because the first thing they’ll do is find the most comfortable seat in the shop and remain there until their partner has finished browsing, or becomes acutely aware that their waiting spouse’s patience is a finite commodity, and one that is being rapidly exhausted. The mobile phone is a mixed blessing, but since its advent at least bored spouse can play Candy Crush Saga to distract themselves until their partner has satisfied their craving for literature.”
- Genus: Senex cum barba (Bearded Pensioner); Type Three, Species: Qui in parvam domum moverunt (Downsizers). “This is not a species you’ll find in shops that sell new books, but they appear on a daily basis in second-hand bookshops, trying to convince you that their tatty old Reader’s Digest Book of the Car is worth a fortune, or that their Miller’s Antiques Prices Guide for 1978 is a really significant milestone in English literature.”
Yes, I also found myself somewhere in there, but I won’t come out with it – some cards are best kept close to the chest. This is a charming and hilarious book, and if you are into hunting for your books as much as I am, you will love it.