Bookstores must be able to function during the pandemic – but health comes first

There is something unique to the browsing experience that no online store, no algorithm, can replicate. But like everything in Covid times, that serendipitous experience comes with a risk, writes Clémence Michallon

A man wearing a protective face mask browses books in Henry Pordes secondhand book shop in central London on 15 June 2020 (AFP via Getty)

It was a warm afternoon in June 2020. I logged off work, slipped on some shoes, and ran to the nearest bookstore. New York City, where I live, had just entered phase one of its reopening plan, so for the first time since March, I could do one of my favourite activities: browsing the aisles of a bookshop, picking up a few titles, and needlessly adding to my to-read pile.

There is something unique to the browsing experience that no online store, no algorithm, can replicate. Some of the best books I’ve read over the past few months have been ones I picked up by chance, because the cover caught my eye or the title sounded intriguing. I love that serendipity. I love the idea that a book can find me, rather than the other way around. But serendipity, like everything in Covid times, comes with a risk. And – like drinks on a patio or a visit to the museum – it can only be enjoyed after a pretty rigorous cost-benefit analysis.

The state of bookshops during the pandemic has been fluid. I’ve monitored the situation in the US (where I live), in France (where I’m from), and in the UK. All three countries have offered some form of relief to bookstores and other businesses, by way of small loans and grants, but – judging by the fundraising appeals that keep cropping up on my social media on the US side – those are not always sufficient.

In the US, whether bookshops are open – and how open they are – depends mainly on which state you’re in. In New York, they’ve managed to stay open thanks to safety measures including masks, a limit on how many customers can come in, and an emphasis on curbside pickup. In the UK, the situation has fluctuated from one lockdown to another. At the moment, every one of Waterstones’s UK shops is closed, as is its location in the Netherlands; the company’s shop in Belgium (where bookshops have been deemed essential) has remained open.

France, too, has gone through several sets of rules. As in the UK, French bookstores aren’t considered essential services, meaning they tend to fall swiftly under lockdown restrictions.

This became a particular point of contention in October last year, as France prepared to enter its second lockdown: independent bookshops had to close, but Fnac locations (the French equivalent of Waterstones or Barnes & Noble) were allowed to stay open. The decision was apparently made on the basis that Fnac, unlike indie bookstores, sell additional goods (such as electronic equipment) which were deemed essential. As a result, Fnac stores were made to cordon off their books sections in order to restore some form of equity with indie shops. Fair in theory, but somewhat awkward in practice.

As an author whose debut novel came out in September 2020, I hold the book industry very close to my heart. I have followed Publishers Weekly’s list tracking the impact of the pandemic on the book industry. I have also welcomed news that book sales – at least in the UK – have performed healthily.

The thing is, I am a book person, but I am also, well – a person. I love books, but I’m not prepared to risk everything for them. And I don’t want bookstore employees to risk their health for my browsing pleasure either.

I’m not alone in this sentiment. A N Devers, an author and owner of the rare bookstore Second Shelf in London, tells me the pandemic has been “devastating” for her business, which opened in 2018. But while she believes both books and bookstores are essential, she would prefer “that all retail businesses that are not food or medicine or similar be closed“, and for the government to “support more people staying home and businesses so they can recover after this is over”. At this time, Devers has centered her store’s activities around online and email shopping.

“I believe I will remain closed to customers for many more months, and focus on doing what we are doing until it is safer,” she adds. “I still think we need business support to get through this time and continue to be able to pivot our business to online sales.”

Pauline Harmange, whose feminist treaty I Hate Men was one of the breakout books of the literary season in France, has a similar position. She has kept shopping at her local bookstore, but doesn’t believe bookshops should be considered essential services for Covid purposes.

“It seems obvious to me that the health of bookstore employees should be prioritised over people’s reading habits in France and elsewhere, and over my personal advantage as an author,” she says. “I’d rather everyone be healthy than for people to read my book from their hospital bed because they caught Covid while buying it.”

Of course, Harmange is aware of how the pandemic can worsen inequalities between small bookstores and industry giants. Amazon posted its biggest profit ever in July 2020; founder Jeff Bezos’s wealth skyrocketed and reached an estimated $186bn by the end of last year.

But Harmange believes those dysfunctions can be managed. During the second lockdown in France, the government allowed bookstore owners to lower shipping costs to one cent to help with online sales. In the US and in the UK, the website Bookshop.org was launched as an alternative to Amazon, to facilitate online shopping at indie bookstores while also pooling a fund to be redistributed among indies.

“My position has mainly strengthened since the beginning of the pandemic,” Harmange adds. “Health comes first.”