The optimistic version of this story is that bookstores can do some of the work that schools and libraries are being prevented from doing. Arnold talks about adults who started reading during the pandemic and found, in places like Parnassus, a community that extended and deepened that habit. Vasquez credits TikTok with giving Gen Z a genuine entry point into reading culture. If a twenty-two-year-old comes in for a romantasy and leaves with a staff recommendation that surprises her, that is the system working.
But the less optimistic version is harder to dismiss. If a third of American high school seniors cannot reliably comprehend what they read, then the customers filling bookstores on a Saturday afternoon are largely not the people at risk, and the beautiful new bookstore opening in a walkable urban neighborhood is not reaching the communities where the crisis is worst.
I still believe the line at my local indie represents the desire for community and the experience of being somewhere that takes the written word seriously. Lemberger, for her part, is cautiously hopeful but honest. According to her, “As economics change and political policies are implemented, there is definitely concern about folks adjusting their spending habits and focusing on needs such as housing, food, and health over that new book they may want. We’ll see what the landscape shows in two to three years.” The bookstore boom is happening, but it’s fragile in ways the attendance numbers don’t reveal. Meanwhile, the literacy crisis is not fragile at all. I believe the bookseller when she says Chaucer’s isn’t going anywhere. But the line at a well-stocked bookstore in a prosperous coastal city is not the same thing as a reading culture, and we should be careful not to mistake one for the other. {read}