Moby Lives - 2 February 2011
When I read last week’s diatribe in The Spectator criticizing the staff of Waterstone’s, it hit a nerve. As a former employee and a loyal customer, I was stunned by the rudeness and some of the assumptions made of Michael Henderson. The article begins by recalling that he entered the Waterstone’s Piccadilly store only to encounter what he calls a ‘duffer’.
The offense: someone among the staff had addressed Evelyn Waugh as a ‘she’ rather than a ‘he’ on a review card. Upon questioning a member of staff he was apparently met with blank looks. Henderson then goes on to describe several visits to other branches, perhaps to confirm his suspicions that the staff are all ‘duffers’.
As someone who has worked for Waterstone’s I can attest to the fact that Christmas and the post-Christmas recovery period is a chaotic time — not to mention that the Piccadilly branch is one of England’s busiest bookshops. So when a customer comes into the store and decides to pick at a relatively small error, I can understand why the reaction was not what Henderson had hoped. When there are plenty of other customers with real queries, they tend to get more of a bookseller’s focus. We booksellers also learn to develop an immunity to customers with weird and wonderful complaints — I was once asked by a customer, ‘Don’t you have all the books?’ Damn — guess you can’t please everyone.
To be fair to Henderson, mistaking Evelyn Waugh for a woman looks bad, and the bookseller in question should be embarrassed. Had it been me, I certainly would have corrected the offending card. But Henderson cannot let it go, and goes on to portray staff as morons.
I love bookselling. I love being enthusiastic about books and recommending titles I love to customers who are genuinely interested in having a dialogue. And the majority of the booksellers I have encountered at Waterstone’s have felt the same way. I often wish bookselling were taken more seriously as a career, rather than being regarded as just another retail job that any idiot can do. David Vann points out that booksellers in France, ‘undertake a course of study similar to that of a librarian in this country, suggesting the premium the culture places on literature’ which would be marvelous. Instead, people with a passion for books do the best they can.
Furthermore, a situation like the one Henderson describes would best be approached with humor rather than snide remarks about the educational background of the staff. I resent the implication that booksellers ‘should’ go to university and study English Literature. Full disclosure: I went to university and studied English Literature. But I know many booksellers who studied in other areas (it should also be obvious to most people that fiction is only one area of bookselling). Each person at my old store had their own area of interest and they brought those passions to the job, with a well-rounded approach to books as a whole. But you can’t know everything. I’m 25 and I consider myself well-read for my age, but I am humble enough to realize that my knowledge is minuscule compared to most, and what knowledge I do have, I wouldn’t dream of lording over others.
I would also like to stress that several of the most passionate and knowledgeable booksellers I know do not have a university education. These people got where they are by hard work and a love of books, and like me, with a dash of humility for the sheer number and quality of books out there. Henderson sounds like he could do with a dose of it himself.
Footnote:
MobyLives , where this story was published, began life in 1998 as a weekly, syndicated newspaper column about books and writers by Dennis Loy Johnson.
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