A man plays a discordant but beautiful tune on a piano in a tiny garret upstairs at Shakespeare and Company.
A few steps away, a man in a tiny alcove tentatively pecks out the words of a future bestseller on an ancient Underwood, while in the front room I sit on one of the available benches and try to write, write, write.
No wonder this independent Parisian bookstore is so loved. It’s small, with every corner and nook filled with fantastic books. Be sure to follow the stairs up and read the painted poem by Hafiz as you tread:
I could show you
When you are
Of your own
And now we must leave. There’s a book reading tonight and they must prepare. But of course, we’re welcome to return . . . if we can find some space to join. I gather my bag filled with a book on the City of Light under Nazi occupation and notebooks for my friend Lish and head out once more to the safe confines of Notre Dame.
If you go
37 Rue de la Bûcherie in Paris (close to Petit Pont Cardinal Lustiger)
© Jennifer Robinson and BulaHoop.ca, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jennifer Robinson and BulaHoop.ca with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.