“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.” – Lemony Snicket.
Whilst I struggle to find the perfect Christmas gift for my incredibly picky and stylish mum and my ale enthusiast boyfriend (my alcoholic beverage preferences don’t extend much further than a standard house white or a pint of Fosters) I can always trust a bookshop to provide me with an abundance of inspiration and a goldmine of presents that I know everybody on my gift list will love.
My favourite is Foyles. I’m not sure whether it’s the classic hint of red in the logo – itself quintessentially festive – their huge variety of subjects and titles, their staff picks (which are always great) or their fantastic and brilliantly curated collections. Their warming ethos and Christmas message recognizing the innumerable characters a book embodies (“it’s a teacher, it’s a guide, it’s a friend…”) wholly sums up why a book is the perfect gift for Christmas.
Unlike iPads and swegways, books and timeless. Novels which were popular 250 years ago are still devoured now by all ages, and new titles are forever assuming places on bestseller displays.
Most importantly, however – books are personal. Despite the fact that not everybody enjoys reading, stories can appeal to everyone. The fact that bookshops like Foyles offer a range of books varying from Penguin classics to cookery books, photography to wreckable journals, under nearly every subject from astrophysics to the evolution of Kim Kardashian’s selfies (yes, this does exist) means that it is impossible to not find the perfect gift for even the most astute or pop-culture obsessed subject.
Books are visceral; the feel, the design, the smell and the way they are presented in the shop are all collectively as important as the contents. To me, exploring a bookshop is like walking around a a sweet shop (Sid’s corner shop pic n’ mix counter to be precise). Shelves towering over three floors stacked with colourful and wittily titled covers draw me in every direction, causing me to build up a heavy pile that just leaves me space to peer over the top and thumps down weightily on the counter (albeit leaving my purse comparatively light). I can sit for hours, as I did today, scouring contents pages and dipping in and out of chapters of books speculating on who would adore what, before remembering that it is 4pm the day before Christmas Eve and I still have a long list of presents to buy (and wrap).
It seems that the book industry is also responding to the increasing popularity of social media in the digital age in order to engage a wider, and younger audience, with numerous YouTube stars such as ‘Zoella’ and Tyler Oakley publishing autobiographies and (admittedly, questionable) novels and photography collections such as the aforementioned Kardashian tribute (which can arguably be considered an interesting look at identity, art and culture). Books have also expanded from their traditional literary form to embrace listographies, travel journals and even whole books dedicated to the funniest cat images of the internet. There is nothing shameful about spending Boxing Day alternating between reading ‘War and Peace’ and completing a dot-to-dot picture of the Gherkin.
So, if you’re still desperately scouring Amazon Prime for a last minute present (though, I’m not going to lie, you have left it incredibly late by this point) pop into a Foyles, W. H. Smith, Waterstones or even better, an independent bookshop and I promise you, you shall find the perfect gift. The only thing which could make it better is if Notting Hill were real and every hipster bookshop had its own disheveled Hugh Grant…
What it is like, or what it is like in words. 