The reopening of bookshops has been a cause for celebration, with bibliophiles comparing their euphoria to that of a child let loose in a sweet shop. The opportunity to amble among the aisles – even on a one-way system easing the flow of customers – to touch, feel and flick through paperbacks or dip into the heft of hardback heaven is an undiluted pleasure that the online bookselling world and the click of a mouse cannot offer.
There is a subtle difference between browsing in a bookshop and scrolling on a glowing electronic reader. Shops are filled with happy people and, although their smiles are hidden by masks, you can still see make out from a social distance the delight in their eyes. Readers cannot hope to know about the vast majority of new books being released, but a glance at their spine on a top shelf or on tables heaving with fiction opens up new avenues and chance encounters.
In non-fiction works, scanning the index, admiring the photographs and studying the captions is part of the rich tapestry acutely missed by buyers.
Nothing can ever replace the joy of holding a book in your hands. To run your fingers over the embossed title, feel the pages and sniff the paper is part of the great sensory experience of the literary world.
Bookshops are places of solace in times of crisis or stress and are vital for our mental wellbeing
Because life was on pause, many publishers held off releasing their latest offerings, so the summer has brought an avalanche of new titles. A dizzying array is on display and it is hard to know which way to turn – contemporary, historical and science fiction flood one section; another corner is dominated by political shenanigans, Brexit-era diaries, the climate crisis and hot-off-the press, and poetic reflections on Covid-19. Elsewhere, biography, memoir and diaries stretch across shelves while a cornucopia of titles has emerged about the 100th anniversary of the partitioning of Ireland and the bicentenary of Napoleon.
Reading habits change and with more people taking an interest in the outdoors, a curiosity has arisen about what is on our doorstep. There is a hunger to find out about Irish wildlife, to identify birds, trees and flowers, and explore the built heritage. Lovingly curated sections embrace the outdoors and gardening: an hour is easily swallowed up drinking in the atmosphere, mulling over the worlds contained within the covers.
Snuggling up with a book has become the mainstay of many people’s lives as they find themselves with more time on their hands. No commuting, or little travelling, means they have been able to embrace alternative universes through fiction and short stories discovering the intoxicating power of words.
Bookshops are places of solace in times of crisis or stress and are vital for our mental wellbeing. They are sources of strength, somewhere to lose yourself, wandering down magical roads that you did not know existed. Not for nothing did Henry Ward Beecher once ask: "Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore?"
While there have been casualties, most shops have shown resilience and bounced back from closure. The lockdowns sparked a remarkable revival in children reading with a survey showing that more than half believed that books had provided a refuge, while a third felt that reading had raised their spirits.
The end of bookshops has been forecast for years but a love of the printed word is encoded deep within us
The immediate days after reopening saw queues of regular customers. Some came simply to soak up the atmosphere, others to buy books and left armed with bagfuls. Owners reported that customers were putting their hands on books like there was no tomorrow as they assuaged their lust for the printed word. Beside the hand sanitiser, one shop proudly displayed a sign that read: “Welcome back, you are among friends.”
Aside from the enforced closure, writers and readers have missed physical launches - one of the few places where authors are able to meet the public for an informal discussion. Sadly, at a virtual launch, the tactile and personal side is completely lost.
The end of bookshops has been forecast for years but a love of the printed word is encoded deep within us. With the prospect of holidaying at home and more time for reading, the languid summer days that lie ahead will transport us to far off lands, especially when planes cannot do that. Life-enhancing books may also take us back in time, inform and inspire, lead to escapism and infuse our thinking.
"Reading," the novelist Jean Rhys once said, "makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere."