If you haven't yet heard, these are sad times for the Twin Cities literary scene. The Ruminator is going out of business. My friend Megan and I went last night to pay our last respects. I gotta say I felt guilty, having never been there before, about turning up for the wake. I always think that if all the people who flock to the store when it's closing would have done that while it was trying to stay afloat then it wouldn't need to be closing at all. I wish I had made the trip down there earlier in my time in the Twin Cities. I spend enough time down on Grand Avenue that I should have made a point to go. The store and the people were both charming. They had time to help me, offered to help me, and they were good at helping me (unlike at the good old Barnes and Noble where I sometimes want to crawl over the counter and search their computer myself) even though they were packed with people and clearly busy.
The owner is 62 years old and owes something like $1 million to various creditors/Macalester College. I feel bad for him to have to a) lose something that he quite obviously loved a lot and b) start completely over now. I wish someone would set up a benefit fund. (And if you know of one, let me know and I'll contribute and post a link to it. I couldn't find one online.)
It's not that I don't understand progress and commercialization and capitalism at its finest. It's not even that I don't approve of these things (even though I don't entirely approve of these things). I love my Barnes and Noble fix as much as the next person, but it still makes me sad to see it take over the market. I love B&N in the same way that I love my Caribou on County C, but sometimes, I like to go to the Ginkgo coffee shop and feel like I belong to a community that isn't trying to rush the next number in line out the door. I feel like as a country (maybe even as a planet), we are losing our connections to each other. I may love my big booksellers because they are so big and vast, but I love my community stores in a different way. I'm sad to see them disappearing and to see chain stores taking over so that everything looks the same everywhere you go. I love independent stores because they're small and personal and each has it's own flavour that I can't get anywhere else. I love that they embrace the individuality that has historically been an integral part of the American identity. I love small stores because they mean something to the people that shop in them. I can go there when I'm homesick.
Posted by LoWriter at July 1, 2004 11:50 AMWow, I'd never even heard of it. Seems sad that I lived in a town for almost 6 years and never heard about this store.... sniff...
Posted by: 10lees at July 1, 2004 02:45 PMAwww, it is like "You've got Mail" without a happy ending. That is sad.
Posted by: jeff at July 10, 2004 01:11 AMI know. It's a real bummer. We need a "you got mail" kind of ending! We need it, man.
Posted by: Lo at July 11, 2004 04:13 PMi think its also interesting, that as an independant publisher (the place i work for), we rely on places like Barnes & Noble and Borders for our largest sales even if we prefer the indie stores. if we dont sell to them, we'd go under. how ironic is that?
Posted by: Dr. Gonzo at July 12, 2004 11:00 AMWelcome to capitalism, my friends, where the goal is sterility in the name of profit. Barnes and Noble has no flavor; therefore, it can cater to more people, sell more books, and corner the market across the country. This means that if you don't sell to them, you will also be destroyed. It's a little like the Borg on StarTrek: All will be assimilated. All across the country, sellers try to make their store look the same because it's a)cheaper and it b)makes a customer feel at home no matter where they are, which makes them more likely to shop and shop with them.
Posted by: Lo at July 12, 2004 11:09 AM