The end of an era.
It’s been almost a week since Larry Abramoff abruptly closed the doors of his Tatnuck Bookseller and in that time I have yet to have a conversation within the 508 area code that has not begun with the same question.
‘So what do you think about the Bookseller?’
Honestly? I’m surprised they stayed open this long.
I spent a good percentage of my childhood in the original Tatnuck Sq location, my mother used to take me there weekly as I recall. At the time I don’t think I had any idea just how amazing the place was, it being just a stop that a stay at home mom made with her son. But it ended up being a errand that changed my life, I’m addicted to words because of that little store. I have a horrendous habit of reading every thing my eyes catch no matter where I am or what I’m doing; I’ve stopped writing this twice to read the Surgeon Generals warning on the bottle of cerveza mas fina next to me and were only a half dozen sentences in (never mind there not being a single piece of heavy machinery in sight). I don’t question for a second my life would be very different if not for the Tatnuck Bookseller and I thank them for that.
But my love affair with Worcesters favorite small business ended about seven years ago and unfortunately it started around the same time I started using Amazon heavily, although in the beginning one had nothing to do with the other. For awhile I lived in a three decker on May St, my apartment was just a short walk down the street from the Bookseller and you could find me there two or three nights a week having dinner with either my roommate or my girlfriend at the time. The move to their most current location, in the former Sleeper & Hartley building on Chandler St., included what started out as an excellent restaurant which for me became a great excuse to buy a few books and magazines, then hide with them so i could read without being bothered. The food was great, the service was great and I could read until my eyes bled. I remember having a conversation in the middle of a meal down there around that time predicting the stores downfall; there were all these subtle changes taking place which seemed to be slowly moving towards making the bookstore and restaurant as mainstream as possible. The local history books were moved off to the side while NYT’s bestsellers came to the front of the store, the restaurant was putting less care into what had been a great presentation and the menu seemed to stagnate. In the course of a few bites of an oversize hamburger I came up with my theory that they were attempting to market the business to a wider audience, one less open to a quirky little business and more used to the likes of Barnes & Noble and Borders. I made the point during this conversation that this change would start the downfall of our Bookseller. That by attracting a larger, less focused audience the company would alienate its more loyal customers and at the same time learn the harsh reality of the wider retail market; customers who don’t have a relationship with you, don’t care about you and will only follow the dollar.
I stopped going to the bookseller as often to eat not too long after, I had some great friends who worked at places like the Sole Proprietor where the lack of books was made up for by consistently good food, consistently perfect service and a plethora of middle aged women. That didn’t mean I was in any less need of words but Jeff Bezos found a way to get those to me in just a few days for less money than I was spending locally. Amazon has been a painful experience for me, only because I love them so, so much and that runs contrary to the way I feel about supporting local business. But Amazon also treats me like a local, small business is supposed to. When I log onto their site I’m presented with a list of books I’ve never heard of, but I’ll probably enjoy, just like a small business owner who pays attention to his customers would. It’s hard to argue with that kind of service at the prices they offer.
So in the end, the Tatnuck Bookseller and I shared our first thirty years together. I’m sorry if I never make it out to Westboro to see the new store Mr Abramoff, it’s hard for me to find a reason to head out that way. I also hope you realize the impact your business made on at least one nobody here in the Big Woo. It was an education in literature that Borders, Barnes and Noble and yes even Amazon could never provide. And now apparently, neither can you.
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4 Responses to “The end of an era.”
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I’m glad your mom didn’t frequent the pubs of Tatnick Sq. It’s the same here in Baltimore, we’ve lost several good book hangouts. Books, newspapers, things you hold in your hands to read are slipping away.
I preferred “Another Story” down at Webster Square, and before that, “Ephraim’s” on Franklin Street. The various “Bookseller” incarnations (and I think there was also one at White City in the early 1980s) never sated my quirky tastes in books.
You left out one factor.
Larry was all ambition and no follow-through. He didn’t believe in building on a good thing but had to run after every management fad that came down the pike, and he treated his amazingly talented and loyal staff like shit. Most of his troubles stemmed from those two things and finally caught up with him.
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