Downtown Books’ farewell party

Words by Ryan Findley and Rosy Ricks
Pictures and Video by Sarah Weiss and Brian Jacobson

The aroma of the real deal

There is something about the smell of a bookstore that makes it a “real” bookstore or one of those imitators. There is something about the smell of all those pages, all that binding, all those wooden shelves that combines to tell you via your olfactory sense alone whether you are in a bookstore or merely a place that sells books.

I have long been an avid supporter of the “local, independent bookseller,” from Webster’s Books on Downer Avenue to all the Schwartz locations, and now I am fiercely loyal to Boswell Books. But none of those establishments has ever had the smell.

Downtown Books is a real bookstore. I don’t mean that disparagingly in the case of other establishments that retail (or wholesale) reading material, but Downtown Books has the aroma. Walking into it is to breathe a deep lungful of (musty, dusty) delightful, fresh air. It is in that moment that you know you will be able to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

Then you see the shelves. They are haphazard and mismatched. They are different colors and heights and they don’t have shelves that line up. They are crammed together in patterns that resemble narrow aisles. Brightly colored spines with contrasting lettering grin and wink at you. The shelves are so tall and so close-set that when you stand between them you feel as if maybe, just maybe, they will close around you, encasing you in a womb of literary delights. It is like a bookstore in Wonderland, where anything could happen.

The store itself is equally haphazard. Rooms have been added in no seeming plan. They are on different levels, some connected by sloping hallways and some by stairs. Everywhere there are hand-printed signs directing you to your destination.  It is a warren of written words. You have gone down the rabbit hole, and now you are in the rabbit’s home.

“Humor Room.”

“American Travel.” (Which, by the way, is subdivided by state.)

“Esoterica.”

Some signs are brand new. Others look like they have been hanging under the dim lights of the shop for years, or decades. Perhaps some of them have been. The store is a Milwaukee institution. It has been nestled on Wisconsin Avenue between Broadway and Milwaukee Street for as long as anyone that I have ever talked to can remember, and you must understand that my father (a certified bibliophile) has been living in Milwaukee since the early 1980s.

On Thursday last, the staff, friends and aficionados of Downtown Books gathered to say farewell to its current and beloved incarnation. There was wine and homemade cupcakes. There were poets and musicians. There were artists painting in the aisles. There were cats prowling around ankles. It was a fitting send-off to a place that has nurtured so many through myriad creative endeavors.

The building that our bookstore occupies has been deemed appropriate for renovation and a new hotel, and the store will be moving (one smaller location across the street, one further down on Broadway, and another warehouse in Bay View focused on the rare books sold on eBay and Amazon). Not far, it is true, but it will no longer be the delightful, dusty, dilapidated rabbit warren we all know and love. It will no longer be a magical place in which you can lose yourself for hours on end, never knowing what is around the next corner or what you will find tucked into the next blind alley.

I can only hope that it will retain the aroma.–Ryan Findley

A Nerdy Farewell to Downtown Books

Driving carefully past the drunken masses huddled joyfully together for Jazz in the Park, I set my compass in a more bittersweet direction. While many Milwaukeeans geared up for Thirsty Thursday on Water Street, self-respecting bibliophiles began their final pilgrimages toward an unassuming Mecca: Downtown Books.

In the spirit of transforming something old into something new, Downtown Books will be relocating its massive collection into three separate storefronts. The move is the result of a lost battle with a fancy hotel moving in to woo potential downtown visitors. In honor of the years past, Milwaukee’s favorite bookstore decided to throw one last hurrah of a party.

Downtown Books “Moving Extravaganza” was well attended: poets, artists and musicians of all stripes crammed themselves and their impromptu audiences between the dusty massive shelves in spaces large enough to be declared “stages.” Hipsters and septuagenarians pardoned and perused, feeling pressure to find one last treasure in literary Valhalla. I’ve never seen so many vintage 35mm SLRs in one place…

It’s the bookstore equivalent of coming back from summer vacation in the 8th grade only to discover that your once-nerdy friend has become popular and good-looking. Part of you wants to be happy for them, but part of you also wishes with all your own nerdy little heart they’d go back to being the smelly Dungeons and Dragons player you’d always known and secretly loved.

As patrons ring around the esoteric literature of the ages, I make an attempt to reach the comic book section that is unfortunately positioned after the comedy and philosophy sections, just between sci-fi and the obscure vinyl collection. A few Sandman singles away from collector’s bliss, the crowd is too thick. I am defeated and slink away, fruitlessly searching for a less-populated section. I look around the store for one quiet place to reminisce, but the only unoccupied area is the mystery/romance section, and no one wants to be alone there.

Wandering through, I run my fingers along the shelves in search of something familiar. It’s difficult to learn your best-kept, most-loved secret is actually a really popular place when you aren’t around. I suppose it’s good for the bookstore, but I can’t say that does anything for the self esteem.

Readers take note: though they threw one hell of a farewell party, Downtown Books isn’t officially moving just yet. Plan on spending a little alone time in your favorite section over the next few months, pet the wayward cats and reminisce about the good old days when books came from such beautifully dilapidated places as this.–Rosy Ricks

You can watch our slideshow below, or see the whole set here on Flickr. To view the full size of our video, visit our Vimeo account.