Seeking one long-beloved in the bookstores of the Village

September 12, 2010|David Lyon, Globe Correspondent

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A similar countercultural spirit prevails over in the East Village-Lower East Side at St. Mark’s Bookshop, a dealer in new books with big sections on anarchism, contemporary rock music, and zillions of small press publications. Among them are the hard-to-find but ever erudite “New York Review of Science Fiction.’’ A flier on the community bulletin board urged that someone adopt “Pinky,’’ a bodega cellar cat.

This foray wasn’t getting me closer to “New Hampshire,’’ though I could have sworn I heard the book calling my name when I stepped into Alabaster Bookshop. Although Steve Crowley opened the East Village store only in 1996, it has the air of permanence that can be achieved only by floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves loaded with carefully filed used and rare books. (It even smells like bookbinder’s paste.) Crowley’s architecture and poetry sections are especially choice . . . but no “New Hampshire.’’

Over the course of the day I wandered into and out of another dozen shops, and almost hit paydirt at Housing Works Bookstore Cafe (which has public bathrooms). Proceeds from the spacious shop help provide housing and health care for homeless people living with HIV and AIDS. Selections are extremely eclectic and shelves are chaotic, but where else can decorators buy books in antique leather bindings by the foot?

Actually, the storied Strand Bookstore was my ace in the hole for my Frost quest. With some 18 miles of (mostly used) books, Strand dwarfs the other Village bookstores. It would be possible to spend an entire day just browsing, so I was glad to have a goal. I hopped the creakingly slow elevator to the third floor and walked into the sanctum sanctorum of the Rare Books department. It is a particularly dangerous place for a bibliophile with a credit card: an entire floor of volumes that range literally from the sacred (medieval liturgical manuscripts) to the profane (signed Hunter S. Thompson first editions).

Alas, while they had collector’s editions of Wallace Nutting’s “New Hampshire Beautiful’’ and John Irving’s “Hotel New Hampshire,’’ they did not have a copy of Frost’s “New Hampshire.’’ I settled for a 1904 travel book on Scotland (complete with tipped-in reproductions of watercolors) before I joined my fellow book buyers on the bus ride out of Gotham.

David Lyon can be reached at harris.lyon@verizon.net.

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