Hello, Bookstore: tracing the fortunes of a bibliophilic hero

The relegation of in-person book shopping to a specialist interest – not quite in the area of home taxidermy, but closer than would once have seemed possible – came at us all in a rush during the post-Amazon annihilations. More than a few smaller stores suffered further assault during the Covid lockdown.

This knowledge adds an element of tension to this otherwise delightful documentary on Matthew Tannenbaum’s efforts to keep afloat his shop in Lenox, Massachusetts. Simply named The Bookstore, the establishment (just about) functions as businesses did before the online rush.

Speaking to his customers through the door during the first Covid containment, he explains that, whereas they can email him, they cannot order directly online. One punter regrets that, now unable to browse, she didn’t bring the book section of that weekend’s New York Times. Tannenbaum digs out a copy and she reads it on the pavement, hopeful that whatever catches her eye will be in stock.

There is a structure to AB Zax’s film. Tannenbaum realises that the sums are not adding up. He attempts to do something about it. That plan ends how it ends. But, for the most part, Hello, Bookstore potters along in anecdotal, amiably ramshackle fashion.

A personal housing plan: Move to Newry, buy for €150,000 less, commute to Dublin

---

Dublin pizza restaurant ranked 15th in top 20 European pizzerias

---

Bruce Springsteen in Cork: Setlist, weather forecast, transport info for Páirc Uí Chaoimh concert

---

Eleven hidden gems: The best lesser-known attractions to visit around Ireland on a budget

---

Almost everybody who adores bookshops will have encountered a seller like our bibliophilic hero. They exist in London, Paris and Shanghai. There are still more per capita in Ireland than practically anywhere else. But Tannenbaum is a recognisable American type. Born shortly after the second World War, he served in the navy, became hooked on Henry Miller, Jack Kerouac and Anaïs Nin, and made his way to the famous Gotham Book Mart in Manhattan where inspiration for The Bookshop germinated. He is a Thomas Pynchon type: wild hair and untamed enthusiasm.

Along the meandering way, he treats the viewers – and shoppers, if then permitted entry – to readings from favourite texts. It is a busy mix that, running through Willa Cather to Gustave Flaubert to John Crowley, confirms his eclectic tastes and his lack of prejudice. Well, nearly. One of his best gags relates how he once saw a volume being flung from a first floor window, picked it up and was entirely unsurprised to discover it was a self-help book. Long may he thrive.