Paris . . . for book lovers

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 wish
I could show you
When you are
Lonely or
In darkness
The astonishing
Light
Of your own
Being

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)

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