(Apologies to Dion)

Jim Maney has been a wanderer as long as I’ve known him, not only in his travels but also in his interests and—to a lesser extent—his careers and choice of domiciles. He’s traveled throughout the US and to a lot of distant places. Recently, he was posting pictures from Amsterdam.

Several years ago, he expatriated himself to Ireland and became (based on my understanding of his writing) a blow-in. In any event, he seems to be a lot more enthusiastic about Ireland than he is about the US.

Since I’ve known him, Jim has taught university courses, been a copywriter and media director, and perhaps was the premier marketing consultant to chain funeral homes in the US. In the 1980s, there was an ad agency with a wall full of readership awards which I, as creative director, laid claim to. But I knew that Jim was more responsible for them than I was. He was a proponent of Nathan Bedford Forrest school of media direction: Get there firstest with the mostest. Jim would always sacrifice reach for frequency, figuring if you slapped somebody in the face enough times, they’d probably remember what they were slapped with.

In his new book (A Booklover’s Last Stand?: A year in the world of Ireland’s books, bookshops, and book people), Jim manages to combine several of his wandering interests, and the book provides pleasure on several levels. It’s a guided tour of Ireland’s independent bookshops, a look at what makes a bookshop an essential part of the community, and a celebration of book lovers, those who buy them, those who sell them, those who write them, and those who read them. And we mustn’t leave out those who just like to wander through the bookstore, breathing in the bookish atmosphere.

Reading the book aroused a certain amount of envy in me. In a series of short essays, he documents his travels from town to town, some with unpronounceable names (at least by me), and provides us with a snapshot of the bookstore, its place in the community, and a quick portrait of the people who run them. When you finish the essays, you have a good idea of what a book lover like Jim values in a bookstore: a good inventory, a knowledgeable staff, and—hopefully—a good cup of coffee or tea.

You also have a clear picture of what he doesn’t care for: chain bookstores, online bookstores, and bookstores where the staff sells the books as if they were produce. He and I agree that selling books is a calling and should be approached with preparation and reverence.

In his introduction, Jim notes that the pieces are short and take only a couple of minutes to read, and he suggests that the book is one to be dipped into. I read it in somewhat larger gulps and enjoyed it.

Jim and I have a number of shared experiences, but what worked most powerfully here is that we share a love for the printed page between hard covers.

A Booklovers Last Stand is available on Amazon at A Booklover's Last Stand?: A year in the world of Ireland's books, bookshops and book people: 

I still wonder if there’s some sort of symbolism in the fact that only the odd pages in the book are numbered. Yet another mystery to ponder.