It's no secret that I love a good messy bookshop. In fact, I try to seek out at least one whenever I'm on holiday. I found out about Voltaire and Rousseau just before my trip to Glasgow last December, and made it a point to visit it while I was in the city.
Behind that rather unassuming exterior on Otago Lane lies a treasure trove - piles upon upon upon shelves upon boxes of boxes. It's a minimalist's worst nightmare. It was my idea of heaven.
It may not seem immediately obvious, but the shop is actually divided into several sections. The front room is the £1 section - every single book there costs £1. It's just a matter of finding something that takes your fancy. I found too many, and ended up spending more time culling my selection than I spent selecting them in the first place.
The inner room is roughly split into sections such as Drama, Music, Cook Books, Military History and others that I can't recall. Those are very vague delineations though - the actual sorting system seemed to be: find a pile which doesn't look too precarious, place book on top, make sure it doesn't slip off, walk away. Repeat. The old men who ran the place practised this system very conscientiously while I was there. It's the exact same sorting system I use at home.
There's also supposed to be a shop cat somewhere in there, but I couldn't find him. Him? I felt the cat was a him, after all, everyone else working there was a 'him' too. We ended up leaving with only about 30 books. Only 30? Well, I could easily have bought more - trust me, there were some beautiful books in there - but my purse and Manbacon's arms could only stretch so far.
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