Monday, February 28, 2011

RIP Borders and Why I Feel Culpable


As discussed at length on this blog in the past, I am a recent Kindle convert.  I don’t know about the other Kindle converts out there, but I now have a difficult time reading an actual physical book.  I keep a “non-Kindle Wish List” in my Amazon account, and those titles are comprised mainly of books not offered on the Kindle.  That whole list is just gathering dust.

Despite my affection for online shopping (one of my wife’s pet peeves for sure), I still love going to bookstores.  I love paging through books, seeing what might interest me.  In the past, I often felt compelled to buy something.  Be it the mega-Barnes & Noble or neighborhood bookstore, I wanted to lend my support.

I still feel this way about the neighborhood bookstore.  I’ve blogged about one of my all-time favorites in Columbus, Ohio (The Book Loft) before.  I always buy something there—for myself or members of my family.

Of course, Amazon has led the charge in commoditizing books.  30% off?  How about 40%?  45%?  For a while there it was so ridiculous (and I was so ridiculous) that I’d shop Amazon, BN.com, Buy.com, Walmart.com, any-other-discount-book.com website looking to save 23 cents on a book.  Yes, it was a game.  And among those online retailers playing the discount game, I was ok.  Fact is, the quaint neighborhood bookstore had been dying a slow death since long before the evil empires of Walmart and Amazon achieved international prominence.

Well, the commoditizing has its price.  Yes, I still love browsing through bookstores, but as a Kindle guy now, I leave the bookstore empty handed except for the titles of books to be added to the reading list.  I’m not even buying the damn books any more.  And, unfortunately, the e-book industry can’t get its act together and allow (without, in some cases, some techno-mumbo-jumbo-unscrewthis-plugthatintocomputer nonsense) multiple venders to supply your e-reader.  So, you buy a Kindle and your only easy option is to download your books from Amazon—as much as you might feel compelled to “buy” from Barnes & Noble because, guess what?  That’s where you saw the book in the first place.

To Borders.  I went to college in Ann Arbor, Michigan.  In 1971 (long before I arrived), the first Borders Book Shop opened in Ann Arbor.  Borders was still there during my time 1985-1989.  It had begun to expand and open in new markets by that time as well.  It was a great bookstore.  It was nestled among all of the “college bookstores” selling text books (all at the same price, by the way), college apparel, etc.  Borders was the bookstore your parents wanted to browse through on visits.

Yeah, Borders was purchased and went corporate.  But I, and countless others like me, effectively abandoned brick and mortar bookstores.  So, does it come as any surprise that Borders is going through bankruptcy.  And it’s not like Barnes & Noble is a picture of economic health, though there’s hope that someone will step up and take it private.

Anyway, RIP Borders.  It’s possible that Borders could emerge following bankruptcy.  Nobody knows at this point.  My local Borders is having its “Store Closing” sale, however.  And I am not aware of any "neighborhood bookstore" in my neighborhood.  I find it a shame.

Live long, read and prosper.  We’ll leave the lights on for you.

1 comment:

  1. Here's how I feel about Borders: eh. I'm irritated this week because they wouldn't honor my Borders Rewards coupon. But generally, I try not to buy there. If I'm discount shopping, Amazon gets my money. If I'm going to pay full price for a book, the neighborhood bookstore gets my business. In fact, one of my pet peeves is people who drop $100 at B&N or Borders buying full price books while the independents struggle to stay in business. See ya, Borders. I'm happy to drive 15 miles south to plunk down my money at Joseph Beth.

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