Buying organic groceries, recycled paper and locally sewn clothing always seems like a good idea, and I swear I try to do it as much as I can, but I can’t deny reality: I’m a cheap college student. Sadly, the more sustainable the product, the more it costs. However, there is one product that I consistently try to buy used if possible: books.
See, I’m not the type who buys used books simply because they’re cheaper than new books. My reasoning is more superficial than that; I love used bookstores.
I love the narrow, tall bookshelves crammed tight with rows of crinkled paperback spines. I love the musty smell of old paper and warehouse flooring. I even love the impossibility of finding exactly what you want, deciphering the loose organizational structure of the labyrinth-like store simply to find a copy of something that’s not Hermann Hesse’s “Siddhartha” or a compilation of Pablo Neruda poems.
While Westwood boasts Los Angeles’ only surviving Mystery Bookstore, no other independent used bookstores thrive in the Village. Fortunately, Santa Monica’s Angel City Books is only a half-hour bus ride away.
Angel City Books ““ located right off of Main Street on Pier Avenue next to a natural foods grocery store ““ beckons bibliophiles with $1 bargain-book bins outside and opened doors leading to a wonderland of books inside. At 11 a.m. on a Friday I was, of course, the only person in the store and I was, of course, in heaven.
While all of the fiction (“organized” in alphabetical order by author’s last name) is pushed to the front of the store, the assorted categories of books in the back are really most intriguing. Not only does Angel City boast the largest poetry collection I’ve seen in any used book store (including ““ count ’em ““ five copies of Louise Glück collections! Yes!), but also rotating racks of pulp science fiction and Western paperback novels preserved in plastic wrapping from the 1950s and 1960s.
The manager, rivaling Howard Stern with his long, curly hair, asked me if I needed any help, and I blabbed to him for probably too long about why I liked used bookstores. (That is, the reasons stated in this article plus some of my own ideology of passing on reading from one generation to the next. Basically, nothing he cared about.) While he essentially ignored my bookstore ramblings, he tried to humor me, asserting that I must be a “big reader.” I, naturally, lapped up the compliment and proceeded to drop a stack of books on the counter to purchase.
“Now, don’t forget about me here,” he said as he punched the book prices into a calculator.
“What do you mean?” I asked. Part of me wondered if this was some backhanded way to hit on a hyper-enthused book lover and was contemplating a graceful way to duck out of the conversation when he mercifully continued with a more bittersweet response than anticipated.
“I mean, business is down. Everyone just orders their books off the Internet now,” he said. He sighed and his face fell. “This store’s been open for 10 years and things have never been worse. The entire inventory’s out on the floor and I’m just trying to get rid of everything,” he said.
He tried to perk up with a smile. “So, tell all of your friends about us. Tell them to come on out and buy some books.”
Angel City Books is not the only option for buying used or rare books. Alias Books, located on Sawtelle Boulevard, is filled not only with books, but also intriguing vintage trinkets and quirky paintings on the wall. Open late and appealing to the hipster crowd from the Nuart movie theater, Alias Books does not host quite as extensive of a collection as Angel City Books, but the ambience is offbeat and film enthusiasts can find a wide collection of screenplays and film criticism collections.
Book Soup in Hollywood is also a reliable bet for used and new books. Sitting right on the Sunset Strip, Book Soup features two levels of books, including a center display with rare signed copies of books by contemporary authors. Book Soup is perhaps the hipper, more privileged cousin to the typical used bookstore as authors frequent the location for readings.
The economy may be down, but independent bookstores in Los Angeles still prove to be an outing that will not break the bank and, ultimately, will make some bookstore owners happier too.
So, here I am, telling you, my friends, to come on out and buy some books.
If you too would rejoice at the sight of Louise Glück poetry, then e-mail Cohn at jcohn@media.ucla.edu.