And now the undoing is almost complete. The process of unravelling 20 years of a way of working, a way of living, a way of being, is coming to an end. In a few days, all will be undone, all will be stripped away to the empty shell that we started out with. All that will remain are memories – of all those who worked there over the years and of the thousands of customers who came in through our door since December 2nd, 1996.
On January 4th, we announced (via social media, of course) that the Crannóg Bookshop would be closing its doors for the final time on February 18th. Why did we close? The simple answer is that it was no longer viable for a variety of reasons that have as much to do with the changing nature of retail, of what it means to be part of a community and how we socialise and interact, as it has to do with commerce or business.
Shops close every day of the week, businesses come and go. What’s so special about a bookshop, what’s so special about this particular bookshop? Does it really matter that another bookshop has closed? Yes, books and reading are important, most people would agree with that, but it’s not that there will be no more books. Tens of thousands are still being published every month, they can be bought online or in other non-traditional outlets – and often cheaper than in specialist high street bricks-and-mortar stores. And of course, there is the ease of ebooks and all the benefits that entails.
Online algorithms still struggle to find books for the person who reads everything or doesn't read at all or to identify the "book with the mouse on the cover which was on TV yesterday – or was it on the radio?" and there is nothing like meeting a favourite author in person, particularly for children
I’m not immune to online shopping and the ease and convenience of click and collect or click and have delivered. I have read books and newspapers electronically and have listened to audio books on my ipad. To be honest I’m not sure that the closing of a physical bookshop on a high street is such a seismic event that is sometimes seen as symptomatic of all that is wrong about the changing nature of retail. And I’m not really sure that the closing of our particular bookshop is all that important in the grand scheme of things despite the fact many people have said that it will be hugely missed and that it will be a major loss to the social fabric of the town. Maybe that is how it feels at the moment and that, if not in a few short months, within a few years we will be remembered by some, but mostly forgotten. Life goes on.
But what matters more is the impact beyond the physical selling of books. The void that is left by something, anything, that has been present in a town for 20 years can be keenly felt by many, often in a way that others, including those working in the shop every day, have little appreciation of. I still don’t know that the closing of this haven, refuge, oasis, home from home (as variably referred to in the many Facebook comments) really does matter. All I know is that there are many things that will disappear – things that we ourselves took for granted, forgetting that even simple everyday tasks we carried out and the casual greeting or chat about books or the state of the universe, can mean something important to others. Some other business or venture may take up the mantle over time, but until they do the void left behind will be keenly felt by many.
Without claiming to be at the vanguard of some forthcoming cultural revolution in Cavan it is worth putting the 20 years in context. When we first opened the doors, it was not possible to buy an espresso or a cappuccino in the town, the library was a warren of rooms in an old townhouse on Farnham Street, the Town Hall hosted plays and the drama festival but shared its space with bingo nights and the Town Council, there was no cinema and the only museum was run privately and housed in a former pig house.
Now Cavan boasts a fabulous, purpose built library, an excellent theatre in Virginia, an award winning museum in Ballyjamesduff, a five-screen cinema and the Town Hall is now a dedicated arts space. There is a very vibrant arts, theatre, music and cultural vibe in Cavan of which the town and county is rightly proud.
And undoubtedly The Crannóg, as the shop is referred to by young and old alike, played its part in the development and promotion of literature and the arts in general. Over the years, we became, as much as a private business can, an important cultural hub within the town often working in collaboration with other cultural outlets such as the library, the museum, the arts office and various drama groups and festivals, in planning and hosting events.
We had book launches, readings and book signings by authors and celebrities such as Nuala O’Faolain, Dervla Murphy, Francis Brennan, Eamon Dunphy, Michael Harding, Dermot Healy, Tom Mac Intyre, Charlie Bird, John Giles, David McWilliams, Dave Rudden, Siobhan Parkinson, Neven Maguire, Katie Taylor, Jimmy Magee, Mary O’Rourke, Micky Harte, Michael O’Muircheartaigh and many, many more.
We had poetry readings and music. We hosted talks on: remarkable trees; stone walls and buildings; learning a language in three months; gluten free cooking; Joey Dunlop; Phil Lynott; trips to the Antarctic; Cavan history; 1916; and an eclectic variety of other topics. We had theatrical performances and art installations (we even had a small art gallery for a while), storytelling mornings, art workshops and magic shows for children. And of course the midnight Harry Potter launches. I recall a Ford Anglia parked outside the door (“That’s not the real one,” complained one young customer, “it’s the wrong colour”!), sorting hats, broomsticks, a magic wand and lots of dry ice. And was there really a live unicorn one year?
But all these events would mean little without the customers who came in every day. They themselves very often provided a sense of theatre that will resonate with us long after we have forgotten who won the Booker Prize or Orange Prize a few years ago. Customers reading or reciting poetry on the spot, spontaneously breaking into song, or solemnly offering to pray for us, aloud, as we worked at the counter!
As anyone who works in a bookshop will attest, the presence of books attracts all walks of life – and we were no different. But, though they might have tested our patience at times, all provided a level of fun and entertainment – if sometimes only in retrospect. We heard stories that were hilarious and heart-breaking and stories that were indeed stranger than fiction.
We had customers who complained about some of the books we stocked which they deemed blasphemous, anti-church or even promoting black magic (the latter was the Harry Potter books!). We had customers who talked loudly to themselves and customers who quietly sat reading and choosing. And we had many for whom the shop was a quiet space to spend a few minutes or even hours where they could forget about the world outside for a short time and allow their imaginations roam across time, continents, and a variety of real and imaginary worlds.
But maybe most importantly we provided a route and access to books before online became a viable alternative. Although we were proud of the wide range of books we stocked, the variety of books that we were asked to order, very often educated, enlightened, entertained and on a few occasions even embarrassed us. Believe me, there are books on every topic imaginable, and some!
But now, for many, when they know what they want it is often easier and more convenient to go online. But online algorithms still struggle to find books for the person who reads everything or doesn’t read at all or to identify the “book with the mouse on the cover which was on TV yesterday – or was it on the radio?” and there is nothing like meeting a favourite author in person, particularly for children.
Everything has its time. Like many other important local cultural outlets such as Cavan’s Café Music Sessions, and The Flat Lake Festival a few miles across the border in Monaghan, the Crannóg Bookshop’s time has come to an end. No more events are planned, no more books are being ordered, the shelves have slowly emptied and over the past few weeks we found ourselves increasingly saying no to our customers more often than we were comfortable with.
Everything we prided ourselves on: a wide and varied stock range; great customer service; a relaxed, comfortable environment; were slowly eroded as we frantically tried to get everything sorted while still taking time to chat to those who call to say goodbye, recall memories and tell us in such a heartfelt way that they will miss us and the place itself.
Towns originally developed as places to trade and barter and from that starting point all manner of other services and functions came into being. Over time, towns became central not just to the exchange of goods but also to how we communicate and relate to each other. Now as our retail environment goes through a metamorphosis it is crucial that town planners, government officials and other decision makers acknowledge and understand this change and take steps to protect and cultivate the townscape as a space, if not so much for trade, then as a community hub where people can meet, entertain, exchange ideas and generally engage with each other in a manner suitable with our changing world.
But this requires vision, planning, commitment, and most importantly imagination. Over to you.
Postscript
Among the last items I will take from the shop are a collection of cards and postcards, randomly stuck to the office wall, from various authors and friends of the Crannóg Bookshop. The most treasured, is a plain white postcard from Bourbon Street, New Orleans dated March 2001.
“Dear John, Did I ever write to thank you for sending the Cavan history to me? I fear I didn’t, because I just found a note from you. Tucked back in the book itself. I’m sorry. And belatedly - thank you. Finding you and Crannóg Bookshop was tantamount to feeling ‘at home’ in my own ancestral home. But that was 3+ years ago now. Perhaps you’ve forgotten. Not me. Best Wishes Richard Ford.”
Some years previously a tall, distinguished, American gentleman had called into the shop on a bright Saturday afternoon. Something struck me about his appearance and as he asked about books on Cavan history, I realised he bore a resemblance to a man whose photograph had dominated a page in that day’s Irish Times. I had just read John Banville’s review of Richard Ford’s new book Women with Men over lunch and now the same rugged face, with a smile that suggested a roguish sense of adventure, was standing in front of me.
Was it really possible that one of the great American novelists and short story writers of the twentieth century had just wandered into our shop a mere twenty minutes after I read a review of his latest book? This was too much of a coincidence I thought and now I’m going to feel stupid but …. “Are you who I think you are?” I ventured. “That depends,” he drawled, “on who you might think I am.” “Good review for the new book in today’s Irish Times,” I informed him tentatively. “Good to hear that. Now about these books on Cavan history, which would you recommend?”
We got chatting and Richard told me that he believed he had Cavan ancestors and on a whim, had decided to visit the town while in the country promoting his new book. He gave me his address in order to post a book to him and then left. As he went out the door, a customer came up to me quietly with a look of wonder on her face. “Was that really him?”
Very poor at keeping in contact with people, I never got around to following up on Richard’s postcard. And when I read some time later that he no longer lived in New Orleans I thought, unless he called back, that would be the end of it.
However, as chance would have it, we did meet again about four years ago. I had been telling a friend, a producer in RTÉ Radio, about Ford’s visit and she immediately thought it would all make a great radio documentary – the visit to the shop, the postcard and Richard searching for his ancestral roots. We tossed the idea around whenever we met up and I decided I would try and contact Richard again. I called a friend in the trade who did promotional work for Richard’s publishers. As it happened RTÉ’s next Book on One feature was to be Ford’s latest novel, Canada, which I had just read – and he was going to be in the studio that same week to record extracts.
Now that the bookshop is no more and Ford's books are unlikely to be found on the shelves of Tesco, if he does visit Cavan again, he will not be confronted by an inquisitive bookseller trying to be cool about the unannounced visit of one of America's greatest living authors
We met in RTÉ one morning as he was going in for his recording. Warmly recalling his visit to Cavan, he regretted that, even though he had been an adjunct professor in Trinity and had visited Ireland on and off in the intervening years, he had not returned to Cavan. He liked the idea of the documentary and we exchanged email addresses. I contacted the local heritage centre and they outlined the information they would need from Richard to begin the search. We exchanged a few emails over the following year or so and he planned to contact relatives to find the necessary information. But somewhere in the flurry of busy lives our correspondence petered out.
Now that the bookshop is no more and Ford’s books are unlikely to be found on the shelves of Tesco, if he does visit Cavan again, he will not be confronted by an inquisitive bookseller trying to be cool about the unannounced visit of one of America’s greatest living authors.
But the most important question of all is – can Cavan now claim him as one of its own – or do I need to firstly reignite the search for his ancestors and help him unearth his family history? Or did he maybe, quietly, do his own research and came across an errant Cavan ancestor that he preferred not to lay claim to? Such rogues do often appear on the outer, withered branches of family trees!
Maybe I should contact him again. I have no excuse now. Postal addresses might change as people’s lives evolve but email addresses are a lot less tethered to specific locations!
