Review by Booklist Review
Though in possession of a name befitting a Dickens character, Oliver Darkshire's path to the hallowed halls of antiquaria was by no means prescribed. Rather, the self-described introvert with narcoleptic tendencies and misanthropic inclinations was without promising prospects until a grant-funded apprenticeship landed him a tiny desk just inside the door of the iconic antiquarian London bookseller, Sotheran's. Reader, he found his calling. Our amiable Virgil guides us through the many vagaries of antiquarian bookselling, including eccentric customers identified as either Smaugs, Draculas, or Cryptids by the staff. Some individual specimens earn specific monikers, such as the Spindelman and the Ancient. We are also introduced to Darkshire's quirky colleagues, affectionately portrayed in all of their eccentricities in descriptions that read like The Office penned by the same hand as The Pickwick Papers, while the accounting department is straight out of Bleak House. Anecdotes abound, and myriad misadventures are afoot, often resembling Indiana Jones' more than Tom Jones'. Darkshire is a charming and witty guide in this biblio-bildungsroman of finding one's tribe.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
In this witty and heartwarming memoir, Darkshire, a former bookseller at London's Henry Sotheran Ltd., catalogs the stories behind the books, patrons, and antiques that found their way to the shop during his apprenticeship. He comically recounts peculiar interactions with customers, or "cryptids": one woman offered to sing for him then later recanted because his aura was off, a customer nicknamed The Spindleman kept trying to lend his own books in exchange for favors, and an elderly patron was always impossible to please. His humor extends to the store's resident ghost as well, a polite spirit named Henry (after the last Henry Sotheran, who died in an accident not far from the store) who only caused minor incidents during Darkshire's tenure. More serious matters include taking care of antiquated collector's volumes, which involved keeping the books away from sunlight and the arduous use of book oil to preserve their covers. The entertaining stories of the challenges Darkshire encountered day-to-day and the eccentric customers he served over the years add a ton of appeal. Darkshire's sunny temperament and respect for the trade will resonate with book lovers and fellow booksellers. (Mar.)
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Kirkus Book Review
An antiquarian bookseller shares tricks and quirks of the trade. Books about bookshops are popular, as Shaun Bythell's diaries on life at the helm of Scotland's largest secondhand bookshop have proved. Darkshire adds to the genre with this frequently hilarious work. On a whim, the author answered an ad for Henry Sotheran Ltd, a London antiquarian bookshop that opened in 1761, with its smell of old books, "a faintly unsatisfied smell, as if they're all distantly aware that they've missed their chance to be a worldwide smash hit." He accepted the shop's offer to take part in their two-year training program even though "the wages for an apprentice bookseller seemed to have been frozen around when the Old Curiosity Shop opened for business in 1840." In sections that correspond to subject classifications, Darkshire describes his years working at the shop. Among the characters populating this work are colleagues such as James, the man who trained him and watched over the shop with "suspender-clad perspicacity," and the "cryptids," or customers, who fit neatly into one of three categories: "They have never purchased a book….They are peculiar enough that you have doubts they are real….They repeatedly return to the scene of the crime as if drawn by a lure." Then there are the shop's oddities, from mysteries such as the "books hurling themselves from shelves when no one is present" to the Sotheran Curse, which began in the late 19th century after the last Henry Sotheran was killed by a tram, "which I think we can all agree was rather thoughtless of him." The book is a series of anecdotes, which occasionally makes for choppy reading, but Darkshire makes up for this minor quibble with considerable, often dark humor. For example, in his description of bookbinding methods, he notes, "it is technically possible to bind a book in human leather, but the practice is frowned upon." A delightful portrait of "the ugly stepchild of the antiques business or the art world." Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
