Nothing But a Bookstore [OPINION]

I got used to doing my daily tasks remotely from a bookstore. The room is large and wide, and it also has a high ceiling. The tables and chairs are on the back. There’s a fast internet.

And it is curious, over time, to notice the habits, the people who go to bookstores.

Because the “real” book became so unattractive, there’s an arsenal of signs that expose to the reader, like cattle, to what they (supposedly) want.

“For the holidays,” “For your girlfriend,” “For a teenager,” and there goes a multitude of signs.

I was impressed with such a curacy.

What makes a person believing that all the people in the universe would undoubtedly like to read Moby Dick? (Which, incidentally, seems to be a tremendous joke of the curator- there is no more passionate and blind chief than Captain Ahab).

Or, your partner would love Romeo and Juliet, a piece of literature that we all know the tragic end of a couple in love.

I also get really irritated by the segmentation of “Classics.” Side by side, there’s a series of books that have nothing to do with each other. If they had mouths, they would be causing terrible fights in that space. But they are together because they are… classics.

And it gets worse.

Amidst these sessions, there’s an infinity of badly written love stories, which sometimes get mixed up with teenage dramas, involving vampires and metaphysical beings. They are produced on an industrial scale. There’s nothing new on bookstores. We are filled with a huge variety of the same product.