Life in a Bookshop in Paris

There's a bookshop in Paris, that I've always been a little obsessed with. Right on the left bank of the Seine, in the shadow of Notre Dame, sits Shakespeare & Company bookshop and cafe. And, I have to say, it's pretty special.

History of Shakespeare & Company

Sylvia Beach

First, a little of the bookshop's history.

The first Shakespeare & Company bookshop was opened in November 1919, by Sylvia Beach, an American ex-pat, at 8 rue Dupuytren, before moving to larger premises at 12 rue de l'Odéon in 1922, both of which are just a stone's throw away from the current bookshop, near the Jardin du Luxembourg (and my later Paris apartment, in fact).

This being the era of Paris' Lost Generation movement, when artists and writers descended in droves to Paris, particularly Montparnasse, Montmartre and the Latin Quarter, the bookshop became a cultural hub, acting not only as a bookshop but also a library, publishing house and post office.

Regular customers included Hemingway, who lived just around the corner, James Joyce, and F Scott Fitzgerald, to name but a few. In fact, Sylvia Beach took it upon herself to publish Joyce's novel, Ulysses, considered unpublishable by most.

Sylvia Beach's bookshop remained open until 1941 when occupying German soldiers threatened to close it. Instead, Sylvia rallied her friends to come and hide her stock and books, and paint over the shop sign before the Germans could return. If she was going to be forced to close, she would do it herself, on her own terms.

George Whitman

Ten years after the closing of Sylvia's bookshop, in 1951, another American ex-pat, George Whitman, opened a bookshop of his own, which he named 'Le Mistral', at 37 rue de la Bûcherie, where its doors remain open to this day.

Like Shakespeare & Company, Le Mistral soon became a cultural hub of another literary and artistic movement; The Beat Generation. American writers Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, James Baldwin and Allen Ginsberg, to name a few, would all regularly frequent the bookshop (in fact, it's said that Burroughs researched his novel, Junky, in the upstairs library), attending readings, live music events and socialising.

In the late 1950s, Sylvia Beach attended an event at Le Mistral and, noting that Whitman's bookshop held the same 'spirit' as her own late bookshop had, she bequeathed to him the 'Shakespeare & Company' name. Waiting until the 400 year anniversary of Shakespeare's birth, he renamed his bookshop in honour of both the Bard and of Sylvia, who had passed away two years prior.

He further honoured Sylvia Beach's memory by naming his daughter after her; Sylvia Beach Whitman, who today runs the famous bookshop since George's death, in 2011.

Tumbleweeds

From the minute he opened the doors of Le Mistral, George Whitman had very different ideas of how to run a business. He would never lock the door, for example, or even close it, despite frequent robberies at night. He would leave random customers to run the shop while he ran errands or otherwise disappeared. Once, feeling the urge to travel, he even left two teenagers in charge of his business, which included instructing them from South America to buy the neighbouring shop, which had, in his absence, been put up for sale.

Most famous, however, was his 'tumbleweed' program. The concept was simple; anyone who needed a bed for the night, or for several, could stay at the bookshop in exchange for volunteering their time in the shop itself, which would include anything from making sales and handling deliveries to building bookcases. Each Sunday, he would host a pancake breakfast on a long table outside the shop front.

The tumbleweed program continues to this day, albeit with more structure than in George's time. While once, dozens of travellers would have camped down on the tile floor of the bookshop, and the upstairs library, each night, today there is generally a limit of three or four tumbleweeds at a time. It is expected that those who stay are writers, artists or musicians, and about 20 hours per week of volunteering is expected, including being present at both opening and closing hours, and for a two-hour shift each day - seven days a week.

In exchange, tumbleweeds (so-called because they are just 'tumbling' on by on their travels) will get to live and sleep amongst books. Surely that's the dream of any bookworm, right? Better yet, tumbleweeds get to cuddle with the bookshop cat, Aggie, and sometimes the bookshop dog too, Colette, each night, and wake up each morning to the sound of the bells of Notre Dame, a view of which looms out of their bedroom window. And by their bedroom, I mean, literally, the bookshop itself.

I know this because that's how I started out at Shakespeare & Company. As a tumbleweed. Honestly, it was heaven, and I adored every second of it. For several months, my life pretty much revolved around the bookshop; any plans had to factor in the opening and closing times of the bookshop, as well as my two-hour shift for the day, but that still left me with plenty of time to explore Paris, and to do what I applied to be a tumbleweed in order to do; devour books, and write voraciously. Both of which, I did. Honestly, if you're looking to be productive, go and live in a bookshop. It may seem counterproductive, to be constantly surrounded by the distraction of endless books and the hubbub of customers, but I honestly found myself able to focus on my writing for hours on end. That's never happened anywhere else.

New life goal: open a bookshop of my own, simply to live in it, devour books, and write voraciously.

For more information on Shakespeare & Company bookshop, visit their website here.