Strand Book Store — Attraction in New York

The Strand Bookstore is a literary gem nestled in the heart of New York City. With a rich history and immense cultural significance, this iconic bookstore has been a haven for book lovers since its establishment in 1927.

One of the most notable aspects of The Strand is its storied past. Founded by Benjamin Bass, the store originally opened its doors on Fourth Avenue in Greenwich Village. Over the years, it has become a beloved institution, attracting locals, tourists, and literary enthusiasts from around the world. The original location was a haven for the city's bohemian and intellectual communities, serving as a gathering place for writers, artists, and thinkers.

The Strand's significance extends beyond its role as a bookstore. Throughout its history, it has played a vital role in promoting and preserving literature. During the Great Depression, the store flourished by offering discounted books, making literature accessible to a wider audience during a time of economic hardship. This commitment to affordability and accessibility remains a core principle of The Strand to this day.

Another noteworthy aspect of The Strand is its vast and diverse selection of books. With over 18 miles of bookshelves, the store boasts a staggering collection of new, used, and rare books. Its shelves are lined with a wide range of genres, from classic literature to contemporary fiction, from poetry to philosophy, and everything in between. Book lovers can easily spend hours browsing the extensive collection and discovering hidden literary treasures.

In addition to its impressive selection, The Strand has become renowned for its iconic slogan, "18 Miles of Books." This phrase has become synonymous with the store and has come to symbolize the depth and breadth of its offerings. It has also become a symbol of the enduring appeal of physical books and the importance of independent bookstores in an increasingly digital age.

The Strand is not just a bookstore; it is a cultural institution. It has hosted countless author events, book signings, and literary discussions, attracting renowned writers and thinkers from all over the world. The store has become a vibrant hub for the literary community, fostering a sense of connection between authors and readers.

Beyond its literary significance, The Strand is also a visual delight. The store's interior is a testament to its history, with vintage bookshelves and creaky wooden floors that exude charm and character. The labyrinthine layout adds to the sense of adventure and discovery, making every visit to The Strand an exploration of literary wonders.

In conclusion, The Strand Bookstore is more than just a place to buy books – it is a historic and culturally significant space that has played a vital role in the literary landscape of New York City. Its rich history, diverse selection, and commitment to affordability make it a haven for book lovers from all walks of life. The Strand stands as a testament to the enduring power of literature and the importance of independent bookstores in preserving and promoting the written word. If you have a love for books and a passion for literary history, a visit to The Strand is an...

I so wanted to give this place five stars, but unfortunately one employee was an extremely wet blanket on an otherwise great day. I'll get to that in a minute though.

When we first talked in, it was extremely busy on a Saturday, but it wasn't chaotic busy. All of the customers were very polite to each other and navigating the tables in an organized fashion. There was no pushing, shoving, or any other unkind behavior towards others in this Haven for Book Lovers. After we gathered what we wanted from the first floor, we went to the second floor.

The second floor was less busy, so we again went around the area and chose what we would like and noticed that an artist from The New Yorker was decorating bags. Since they had run out of the free tote bags, we bought bags and stood in line without being aware that there was an artist fee. We checked with the artist first to see if that was okay and he said yes, that he was going to stay until store closing (his own decision). When we got in line, there was a lady in front of us named Carrie who was extremely rude, saying that she was the last person in the line because she worked there. When we told her that the artist had cleared it, she called a couple of her other coworkers over to come and speak to us in semi-condescending manner and when they confirmed with the artist what he had told us, Carrie was not pleased. It was like it would have caused her glee to have us kicked out of line. Mind you, all five of us were very respectful, and it was also my birthday weekend that my older children had planned for me. My mom and sister had also flown up from Florida. So to go to a store that had nicer strangers than employees was a little bit disconcerting.

When we got to the front of the line, the artist, Jeremy, was extremely nice and talkative and he also went out of his way to make sure that we got the full experience with him even though he was beyond generous and stayed way beyond his scheduled time. He even autographed 3 of his books for us! We also checked out the third floor very briefly which was even quieter, and there was an author signing. However, as our hand were full of books and we still had to navigate the subway to take the train home, we decided that we would come back again at some point and give the third floor a proper look around.

So Carrie, if you're reading this, learn how to be nice to people and treat them how you want to be treated.

For anyone wanting to visit The Strand, as long as you stand clear of the above employee, you'll have a very enjoyable time there. A...

Books: can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. That’s what my grandfather used to say—right before chaining my younger brother and me to the backyard oak tree. With the solemnity of a monk and the precision of a trained assassin, he’d unzip his old mailbag, pull out one of the many books we’d read that week, and quiz us like his life—and ours—depended on it.

If we answered wrong, he wouldn’t yell. He wouldn’t scold. He’d simply hurl the book at us. Hard. The man had the aim of an MLB pitcher. He could’ve gone pro, but he was too humble. Too principled. Instead, he used his talents to discipline our minds—with velocity.

By the end of one of these literary ambushes, we were usually covered in bruises but buzzing with knowledge. It was tough love. Mostly the tough part. But I’ll admit: without those airborne paperbacks, I doubt I’d love books the way I do today.

My brother? Well… he now lives in a psychiatric facility. Permanently. But he, too, loves books—passionately, obsessively. So much so, in fact, that he once carved the entire text of Moby-Dick into his own flesh. Was that excessive? Perhaps. But who are we to judge how someone chooses to express their devotion to literature?

Walking into this bookstore today brought it all back. The joy. The wonder. The… trauma. I’d like to extend a sincere apology to the staff for the uncontrollable sobbing in the bathroom. I was simply overwhelmed.

This bookstore—your bookstore—is the finest I’ve ever encountered. Far superior to the cold, fluorescent tombs of corporate retailers. Those soul-sucking halls of greed. Those books with barcodes instead of beating hearts.

Curse be upon them. Curse Barnes & Noble. Curse Amazon and their unholy algorithm.

From this day forward, I pledge myself to the true kingdom of literature. Let my soul be carried—no, hoisted—into the fires of Mount Gelmir by the hands of loyal page-turners. For I am reborn.

And I am...