August 06, 2008
Stepanich on the Creating Environment
The point is that I need things to look and be a certain way in order to get into the full creative spirit. Wagner had to wear silk robes and work in a room with heavy drapes to keep a lot of the sunlight out, while Shostakovich could, and did, work in the middle of chaos like the German assault on Leningrad. I can crank out words and music in the middle of unpropitious circumstances if need be, but I prefer to have a work space and work environment that are creation-ready, and little totems nearby to help: Hot black coffee in an interesting mug, sharpened Dixon Ticonderoga pencils (HB2), cream-colored lined paper (I like Archives 18-stave orchestral book), my green-marble Waterman fountain pen nearby to ink things I’m going to keep.
Comments
Page 1 of 1 pages of comments
Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.random longer posts/reviews
links saved, etc.
me posting elsewhere
You'll find me posting at the
Words Without Borders Blog
my twitter
find stuff at this site
- tags:
- don quixote
- dependent children of independent bookstores
- pen world voices festival
- william gaddis
- the paris review
- cervantes
- thomas pynchon
- zbigniew herbert
- roberto bolano
- william h. gass
- rilke
- osvaldo golijov
- daniil kharms
- laird hunt
- paul muldoon
- gotham book mart
- anna deveare smith
- coffee
- proust
- witold gombrowicz
- national slowetry month
- fence magazine
- steve reich
- seamus heaney
- brooklyn
- ecolibris
- death of print
- cesar vallejo
- jorge luis borges
- wiki
- flann o'brien
- joan didion
- czeslaw milosz
- samuel beckett
- george eliot
- journals
- in search of lost time
- russell edson
- translation
- don delillo
- susan sontag
- steven hall
- dubravka ugresic
- nathalie sarraute
- lydia davis
- community bookstore
- national poetry month
- james meek
- italo calvino
- amigos
- heights books
- everything for free
- etgar keret
- marguerite duras
- harry mathews
Recent Comments
Hi Bud,
This is so bittersweet to read. I wish U of Penn more than luck in tackling the collection and making an exhibit for the books. I can’t wait to see the store again. I used to work at Gotham (all too) briefly, from the summer of 2001 to the fall of 2002 when I was 19 and in school for illustration. The building, the books, and especially the people (I had amazing co-workers, plus some really lovely customers) have a special place in my heart. I’m was hoping the link would mention Andreas (Andy) Brown, the last owner of GBM, but no such luck.
I was going to venture a guess that if the old man you met at the store was a GBM employee it might have been Phillip Lyman, but my understanding was Mr. Lyman was notoriously well-read (and had substantial library himself) so I suppose he would not have been reading Dante for the first time when you met him. More likely it was one of our splendid customers. It happened more than once that one customer on the floor would ask me about an author or title and I would meet them with my perfectly hopeless stare ‘n stammer—until another customer that had overheard the plea would effortlessly proffer the desired answer or suggestion. I learned so much working there, from everyone, but was a pretty useless specimen while the learning percolated. One of the more useful employees (our resident poetry expert) recently got a shout-out over at the New Yorker’s book blog after being made famous at the splendiferous Kwik Meal #1 cart:
One more book nerdy bit before I cut off the nostalgia trip. The above-mentioned Marc was the first person to Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino in my hands; I read it up in the 2nd floor gallery on my lunch breaks (lunch from Kwik Meal #1, of course), surrounded by art books and Edward Gorey paraphernalia. That book took (and takes, I’ve re-read it many times) me so many places, but when I’m lucky it takes me back to Gotham’s gallery, by the 2nd floor window where the constant refrain of the gold and diamond sellers coming in through the window mingled with the dulcet tones of NPR from a radio bigger than a microwave and the smell of old paper—all unchanged almost more than a decade later. At least in my mind. It’s still one of my favorite books (and authors), ever. Marc also blessed me with recommendations of Wallace Stevens’ Palm At The End of the Mind, Moby Dick with the Rockwell Kent illustrations, and my first ever NYC apartment: a little studio over in Astoria, Queens. Everyone at that store was overflowing and generous with knowledge, stories and history.
Places like Gotham do more than provide fodder for sentimental blog comment drivel though; I hope the lessons learned from the ongoing troubles are shaping a new generation of booksellers and customers that can find ways to thrive. Bookstores don’t belong in museums. Wise men fish there.
– (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)
on “Well That's That”
Best wishes for the holidays, Bud.
I used to work in the Pan Am/Met Life Building in Manhattan. I would walk over to Gotham at lunch and browse, browse, browse. Books were the only thing I ever bought on that stree. It’s a shame it’s gone. Thanks for the update for those of us no longer living in NYC. Atlanta is not so much a book haven.
Best,
Jim H.
– Jim H.
on “Well That's That”
Yeah, for all of our technology - which is great - I mean you and I are talking about this from two ends of the country - but there’s nothing like being there.
– Bud Parr
on “Well That's That”
I’m always fascinated by the different rituals that writers adhere to in order to be at their most productive. For me, it’s almost never about the material environs; in fact, I think I can be more productive in a busy coffeehouse than I can at home. I think it’s about choosing the quality of one’s distractions. At home, my most productive time is always when the kids aren’t around. 5 AM? 10 PM? It’s more a matter of finding uninterrupted time vs. space. Turning off the internet helps as well…
– Tamara Kaye Sellman (08/06 01:49 PM)