Visit to a Haunted Bookstore
7 weird and wonderful facts from a New York institution.
If the scenes on my phone are any indication, it appears that everyone is checked out — absconded to sea or lake or yard — or else overwhelmed by the amount of words and work and things to catch up on. (Maybe both.)
So today we’re keeping it light, with a departure from the usual essay. This was a joy to put together, and I hope it will be as much fun to read.
New York City’s Strand Bookstore (affectionately known as “The Strand”) famously boasts that it houses 18 miles worth of books. All it takes is a few minutes inside its doors to see this is not hyperbole. An independent bookseller since 1927, The Strand is a bona fide institution, with history (and mystery) at every turn.
When friend and former colleague Cristin Stickles, who works as a buyer there, offers me a behind-the-scenes tour, there is only one logical answer.
As visuals are key, I ask Cristin if she has a photo of herself that I can share. “This is really the best one to use,” she says, immediately producing this shot of her dressed like the dummy from Goosebumps. Perfection.
“Notice how different areas have different smells,” Cristin says. Indeed, every section does have a different scent, not to mention different lighting, different energy, wildly different moods. With its combination of new, used, and rare books, The Strand feels not like visiting a bookstore, but multiple bookstores, a museum, and a garage sale. At once. With tote bags, to boot.
We meet on the main floor (“the least weird part”) and head down to the basement, which houses stacks of nonfiction books and just as many untold secrets. From there, the facts start flowing.
Fact #1: A bunch of famous people have worked there.
The Strand boasts a long list of literary characters who were once employees, including novelist and essayist Mary Gaitskill. “In her book Bad Behavior, the first story is a depressing piece about working in a bookstore,” Cristin explains. “This part of the basement is where she worked!” She waves her arm at a fluorescent lit corner.
Patti Smith also had a stint there, though she’s been quoted as saying it wasn’t the best time. “I like working here!” Cristin confirms, when I suggest I’m sensing a theme among former celebrity employees. “My favorite thing about my job is that I get to physically be in a bookstore all day.” Sounds like heaven to me.
Fact #2: The basement seems intent on collapsing.
When Cristin first floated the idea of this tour, she told me it would involve visiting the site of a large sinkhole. It did not disappoint.
“One morning in the mid-2010s, everyone came in and discovered that the shelves had fallen through the floor.” Why? Who can say. She shows me a photo of a lesser hole that mysteriously appeared in 2017, and another patch of floor that once imploded. Should you ever visit the Strand basement and spy a patch of mismatched flooring, well, now you’re in the know.
Fact #3: Some items provoke a certain fervor.
“Vinyl records are the most-stolen item, which isn’t that surprising,” Cristin says. “But when I looked into it, I discovered it was mostly jazz.”
After jazz records, the most-swiped items in the store are plays and philosophy books. “I can only surmise that people are so enthusiastic about a genre that they simply must have it.”
Fact #4: The Collections Department deserves its own TV series.
The Strand may be known as a retail store, but its “Books by the Foot” department curates collections for the likes of hotels, film sets, commercial spaces, and private collectors. “You’ll see them walking around with a yardstick because everything they do is by the foot,” Cristin explains.
No sooner does she say it than her colleagues, Miguel and Sarah, appear. Naturally, I must know more. They share these gems:
They receive a lot of requests for color-coded books. “Beige is a big one.”
A favorite job was when a hotel asked for 40 feet of books about “cocktails and secrets.”
They frequently curate collections for movies and TV series, including numerous SNL sets.
A frequent request — for hotels and beach houses alike — is “books about ships that don’t have death in them,” a surprisingly tricky ask as many such volumes are about shipwrecks. Botany is another popular category.
The strangest ask they’ve ever had? “We were once hired to curate 50 feet — that’s around 500 books — on fog,” Miguel tells me. “Of course we did it. I’ll never say no. We just have to get creative. I was like, ‘Do you want some gothic novels?’”
“People always tell me I have the most ‘New York Job,’” Miguel says.
“What? No,” Sarah counters. “The most New York job would be the rat czar.”
Fact #5: The walls are like the best literary yearbook ever.
The stairs leading up to the third floor (typically not accessible to the public) are lined by an absurdly impressive autograph wall, with the scrawling of authors, illustrators, and literary legends.
One could easily spend all day analyzing the signatures of their favorite authors. (Or trying to decipher some of the jokes and references.)
Fact #6: It has books for any budget.
The dollar carts that line the sidewalks outside the store sell used books for a song. (I’ve found some great deals there over the years, including a good-as-new copy of The Artist’s Way and an assortment of quirky art books from decades past.)
But the store’s third floor, where the rare books live, is another story.
Right now, the most expensive item in the store is an illustrated copy of Ulysses, signed by both Henri Matisse and James Joyce, which can be yours for a cool $45,000.
Fact #7: It might be haunted.
The third floor is closed to the public on weekdays, and despite the sweltering summer day and the urban din unfolding below us, it’s cool and still and pin-drop silent.
Cristin takes a deep inhale. “This floor smells the best.” It’s a very specific essence, like paper and stories and secrets. And maybe ghosts.
“When I interviewed for this job, I asked twice if the store was haunted. I asked until I got a ‘we don’t think so.’ Which isn’t a no.”
She pauses for a moment, then adds, “I mean, it has to be, right?”
I scan the room, taking in the volumes — thousands, on this floor alone — spanning multiple centuries. I imagine the hands that wrote them, can almost hear their voices. I think of the books I’ve read throughout my life and how they’ve stayed with me — an image floating up unbidden, a line running through my mind years later. In a way, every book is a little like a ghost story, a silent conversation with an author whose time in this world may not overlap with your own.
Yes, I must concede. It certainly is.
Many thanks to Cristin for the wonderful tour. ❤️
If you’re in a book browsing mood, you can check out the titles currently populating the Strand Bestsellers or the Rare Books Collection. And of course, if ever you’re in NYC, consider paying them a visit in person.
Card of the Week
Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.
When The Hierophant appears, some say to look for the teacher.
It could be an anointed person — a professor, instructor, coach, or guide. It could be an unintentional mentor — that person who really gets under your skin, holding a mirror to the root of your frustration. It could be a book, a podcast, a sacred text. But just as often, it’s none other than the person gazing back from your own reflection.
This week’s card appears to remind us that, in every stage of life, we all function as both student and teacher. Each of us has much to learn — and much to share.
The world is full of empty aphorisms, like “everything happens for a reason” and its irritating cousin, “there is a lesson in everything.” These sayings persist, despite the part where it is impossible (at least for the capacity of the human mind) to extract the “reason” behind the terrors and tragedies of our time.
While I do not subscribe to either of these statements, I will concede that if you look long and hard enough at anything, there is often some takeaway to be found.
This is why we study history, and why we create, uphold, and share traditions — to honor those who came before us by learning from their efforts and (in the best of cases) not repeating their mistakes.
Traditionally, this card shows an imposing religious or spiritual figure, sometimes on a dais, cloaked in an elaborate robe. But The Hierophant need not take the form of some exalted leader. In fact, I’d argue it’s more powerful when it doesn’t.
Our society wants us to believe that the answers exist somewhere outside of us. What better way to sell a product, a message, a class? (If I get one more targeted ad for strange overpriced powders that promise to cure all my ills…) And while much can be gleaned from listening to others, it is worthless unless we can also access our own consciousness, until we can marry what we absorb to our own intuitive knowing.
“Seek for the Path within yourself,” wrote Russian esotericist P.D. Ouspensky over a century ago. “Do not expect to hear the truth from others, nor to see it, or read it in books.”
Whatever it is you seek — answers, enlightenment, mysteries, miracles — this card says that you can find them. Search and read and listen widely, collecting whatever resonates, until you’re left with what rings true for you. The Hierophant says where belief is concerned, you may follow whatever recipe you like.
It’s always okay to question. It’s also okay to change your mind.
There are so many ways to access Truth. Wisdom dwells in the space between outward observation and inner reflection — each is empty without the other.
Learning happens as we move through the world. Knowing happens within us.
Oh my gosh, this is all SO excellent. Especially the “Books by the Foot” department!! 🤯
When I turned 16, my birthday wish was to go to NYC for the Richard Avedon portrait exhibit at the Met. (I was/am a huge nerd, and I can’t believe my dad said yes.) We visited The Strand while we were there, and I got a copy of Avedon’s “An Autobiography” that adorns my coffee table to this day. It’s the best memento from a very special trip—one that solidified my obsession with photography! So I have the absolute fondest memories of my visit there.
Amazing 10/10 would tour guide again ♥️ still waiting for the ghosts to show up…