If you want a treat, read the following article in this month’s Vanity Fair about Shakespeare and Company, the famous bookstore opposite Notre Dame in Paris, one of my favourite places in the world. It’s a wistful portrait of a time when books mattered, when writers were honourable vagabonds, when someone like George Whitman could not just exist but flourish and make a difference to countless creative souls. A million thanks to him for being the generous book-loving eccentric that he was, and to his strong and beautiful daughter Sylvia for keeping the whole shmear going against the odds. Can’t wait to visit again.
One of my fondest dreams – that one day one of my books might be found there. I know, the chances are almost nil, but you never know. Keep your fingers crossed.
The magazine’s pictures of the store are in the print version. Below are mine from my visit in 2009, including one of the famous beds where vagabonds sleep, and someone madly playing the piano upstairs.