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I have been to many bookstores, from the American spacious Borders to the elite Waterstones in Cambridge, or the Parisien cosy bookshops in the Latin Qarter, where next to a cup of tea and some cookies the wonderful artistic storybooks stood in piles. I could tell you about the magical Parti Medve hiding in downtown Szentendre, which nearly became my home, but I often visit the always animate Bartók Pagony, which is always full of children, or the antiquarian bookshop in Esztergom, whose wonderful showcase is always waiting me with specials. Besides the books, the place also enchants, every bookstore has its unique atmosphere, in lucky cases, like in one of my story novel, The cloks of imagination, this small, closed spaces capture the time itself, or at least they slow it.
This is how it happens in the Venetian Libreria Acqua Alta, where entering the narrow gate the magic of the place begins to work immediately. Venice with its narrow alleys, ancient stories, silently gliding black gondolas itself is a fairy tale, but when one piece from the city crowded in a single small bookshop, it is as if we would be in an ageless and ancient fantasy world. The name of the place means flood, or high water level, which may occur in Venice, and sometimes the water is covering houses, or also this bookshop. The books which are no longer salvageable, flood-soaked printings, discarded encyclopaedias line the tiny courtyard of the bookshop, as living scenery and memento: although no book is eternal, the knowledge led behind them frames our lives.
The books sometimes travel with us in unexpected ways, here for example in the zigzag of space, full of surprises: we come across with a whole gondola, tub, moreover, a bathtub packed with books, and get lost happily between the poetry books, storybooks, and wonderful Venetian albums. Of course, there is always someone, who keeps an eye out even in the crowd: Ginger, the phylosofic cat of The clocks of imagination is not present, but seven of her companions keep the secret of Libreria Acqua Alta. Of the cats, who once lived as vagabonds, now proudly reign in the bookstore, we met with Coco and Bess, and I am sure that their presence contributes greatly to the endless lines snaking in front of the bookstore.
If you are so lucky, that you are visiting Venice, don't skip this magical place, even if meanwhile the time outside passes differently, and you are missing some museums, frescos or palaces. In Venice, according to Hemingway, you leave a piece of your heart anyway.
Anna Somfai
