Alabaster Bookstore
In which I visit every indie bookstore in New York City
I’ve decided—and don’t quote me on this in case I give up—that I want to visit every independent bookstore in New York City as named by this list and write about the experience of being there. It could take weeks—it could take years! The fun is in the not-knowing.
Alabaster Bookstore
122 4th Ave, New York
Well, if Book Culture was charmless, Alabaster is the opposite: tiny, charming, haphazard, messy. Alabaster is so charming, actually, that I got completely sucked into my browsing experience and forgot to take any photos inside.
The store is tiny and totally overflowing with books. It had that good old-bookstore feel: like the people who own it are probably 95-year-old Communists who hung out with Bob Dylan in the 60s. Although the man at the cash register was not, it should be noted, wizened at all—he was actually pretty young, and was eating a soy sauce and cucumber salad audibly while I was in there.
There are absolutely zero staff recommendations in here, and very little visible order. This works, though, because this is a used bookstore—my favorite kind! And because it’s near NYU, it has a very well-stocked literature section. I only looked through the paperbacks because this was a big walking afternoon for me and I didn’t want to carry around hardbacks. I ended up buying Mother’s Milk by Edward St. Aubyn for $11 and Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward for $14. My rules for buying books (as opposed to putting in a library request for them) are, first of all, I don’t, and second of all, if I do, it’s almost always a book that I’ve read before and loved. Otherwise, it’s too easy for me to black out in a used bookstore and emerge with a stack of books I’ll probably never want to read.
I really liked this place. I can’t believe I’d never been here, given that I used to live on 15th and 1st. The Strand around the corner probably distracted me. And, of course, we love The Strand for what it is: a terrifyingly crowded, deservedly popular New York institution. Alabaster felt like The Strand’s introverted younger brother: about 1/20th the size, and 1/100th as overwhelming. After I got my books, I walked to Washington Square Park and wrote in my journal until a man sat down next to me, complimented my shoes, and then took off his own shoes to show me his socks. Perfect NYC day! <3