I have always loved book stores. St. Marks Bookstore in the East Village, City Lights in San Francisco, Shakespeare’s in Paris, and the Pink Pussy XXX Book Store on 42nd Street. Pattaya sadly is bereft of a classic pseudo-intellectual book store. Bookzine carries a nice line of modern fiction but 350-800 baht a book prices me out of the market, unless I went for a five finger discount.

Used bookstores are filled with yellowing spy novels and murder mysteries. however Swan Bookstore on Soi Buakhao occasionally had gems. Seth Morgan’s HOMEBOY, WAITING by Ha Jin, and Jim Thompson’s POP. 1280.

I couldn’t see how the bespectacled owner could make any money.

Books cost 160-180 baht and you could return them for 50% of their value toward the purchase of another book. I asked the cook in the next door food stall about the owner, expecting to hear that he had gone broke, instead the Thai man said, “He have big money. Sell house. 4 million baht. Stop work. Drink beer all day. Sawan.”

Hearing this reference to heaven on earth I decided the Swan Book Store closing its doors for good was not such a bad thing othe than it will be replaced by a 7/11 selling crap. But what else can you expect? The lead in the air has rendered the populace dumber than a bucket of lead. No one read anymore. Not even ketchup bottles. Not when you can watch Britney Spears on YOUTUBES instead of opening a book a Ezra Pound.

Blue, blue is the grass about the river
And the willows have overfilled the close garden.
And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth,
White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door.
Slender. she puts forth a slender hand;

And she was a courtezan in the old days,
And she has married a sot,
Who now goes drunkenly out
And leaves her too much alone.
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