Bookshop dernière

J'ai presque écrasé une larme à la lecture des feuilles locales du Hindu d'hier: Mon libraire plie boutique. Une sale histoire de bail.
Cette caverne d'Ali Baba poussiéreuse n'avait l'air de tenir que par ses piles de bouquins, où seul l'affable Mr Shanbagh était bien capable de dénicher le dernier Amitav Ghosh, la Nausée de Camus en version anglaise, voire une méthode "le kannada pour les nuls". Pas de base de données informatisées ou de carte de membre, pas de mec en gilet vert, mais 10% sur toute la boutique toute l'année. Je lui suis redevable de mes découvertes littéraires anglophones en Inde, comme cette  Histoire de l'Inde post-gandhienne passionnante comme un roman (et j'apprends à la faveur de l'article que l'auteur Ram Guha était un fidèle du lieu), d'avoir exploré les classiques comme  Anita Desai (maman de la bookerized Kiran), ou RK Narayan,  sans sacrifier aux best-sellers genre l'inévitable Shantaram, livre-culte de tout bon expat en Inde (attention les amis, adaptation ciné à suivre produite par Johnny Depp, et ce sera plus fort que Slumdog, prenons les paris!).

So Shanbagh zindabad !

The closing chapter


Deepika Arwind

Another bit of old Bangalore goes as Premier shuts shop

— Photo: K. Bhagya Prakash




On its last legs: Shanbagh at his Premier Bookshop on
Church Street in Bangalore.

Bangalore: The city’s losses seem to be growing with every passing
year, whether it is the number and species of its trees, or its
pavements, or its old coffee houses.

In a week’s time, we will lose another beloved landmark of our
city, the Premier bookshop, which more than any other bookshop has
contributed to the city’s reading culture.

The bookstore, squeezed against an old Bangalore pub on the road
connecting Church Street and Mahatma Gandhi Road, is inseparable from
its owner T.S. Shanbhag, who now contemplates the end of its
37-year-old existence.

“In three or four months, the lease of this building will come to an
end, so I’ve decided to close it down,” says Mr. Shanbhag, almost
stoically. He plans to spend his free time with his family and
generally kick back into his retirement soon after the bookstore is
closed.

His 600 sq. ft. haven for bibliophiles, with its
precariously-stacked columns of books and 10 per cent discount on every
pick, will be missed sorely by the city’s old and new readers.

When Premier threatened to shut down in April 2006, all its regulars
– from literary bigwigs to those who hung about the store just to
browse – were upset.

The lease was extended and customers continued to flock the store.
But the lease now draws to an end, and according to Mr. Shanbhag, the
old building will “probably be restructured.”

He feels that his clientele, used to its musty comforts, would not want Premier to be relocated in a glitzy new structure.

His regulars share none of his stoicism, and are unabashedly sentimental as they mourn the closing of a chapter.

Says Ramachandra Guha, historian and Padma Bhushan Award winner: “It
truly is the end of a chapter in the culture and history of Bangalore.
Mr. Shanbhag is a unique bookseller with empathy towards his customers
and with a charm we do not see often.”

This reticent bookshop owner is mentioned in the Lonely Planet and
is a respected figure in the city’s literary circle without being a
writer or critic himself.

Arul Mani from the Department of English, St. Joseph’s College, is a
regular at the shop. “Mr. Shanbhag has probably done more for the
city’s reading than we can fully understand, with his discounts, his
willingness to hold a book for you till you managed the money, and his
quirky but always interesting pick of titles.”

The closing down of Premier is also a marker of the city’s changing
priorities, according to writer C.K. Meena. “We know that land prices
in that area have shot up and real estate is a coveted commodity.”

In the next week, Mr. Shanbhag will witness a frenzy of visitors
trying to make that one memorable trip to the bookstore and buying
books they have always wanted to.

Meanwhile, Mr. Shanbhag is making other plans. “I have many personal
things to take care of. I will visit my daughter in Australia,” he says
in the unflustered manner that his customers know so well.

(c) The Hindu