As a writer and a reader there’s something I can’t/won’t/refuse to shake, and that’s a good bookstore. With the threat of e-books taking over as the popular form of publication, I tremble with rage at the thought that we might lose my favorite kind of business.
When I first moved to Los Angeles in 2008 I found it incredibly difficult to locate a good bookstore. I went so far as to follow half complete directions to a used bookstore somewhere between Malibu and some hills only to find it had been dissolved years before. Do you know that disappointment? Does it permeate your city too? I blame the Internet, I think it goes out of its way to forget bookstores still exist. I’m sure it’s intentional, and I hope someone more versed in conspiracy theory is already on this, because I don’t really have the time.
However, in spite of the Internet’s selective memory, I’ve managed to locate bookstores here and there throughout the last four years. From The Last Bookstore downtown to Iliad Bookshop in North Hollywood, the book business is hanging in there. Then there are the special places that are doing more than hanging in there, that are making their own distinct presence known by building a community, and one of those places is Pop-Hop Books & Print, “[a] bookshop, print studio & salon in the Highland Park neighborhood of Los Angeles”.
If you haven’t been to Pop-Hop yet, well shame on you, but really, you should make the trip. Recently opened in May 2012 by friends Robey Clark and Sarah Balcomb, Pop-Hop is what I dream my home library will look like someday. Sturdy shelves installed by friends line the right side of this narrow, long, and high ceilinged space. The shop gives off an air of clean and clear purpose. The white walls contrast with what might look like items from your grandmother’s attic. At first glance, to the non-bookish eye, the books and items gracing these shelves don’t seem all that special – mostly used, with a handful of newer books, and scattered lost objects. But these shelves are weighed down by something very specific. Love. Sarah loves books, you can see it in the way she has carefully chosen, organized, and alphabetized her shop, and in the little color coordinated display that lingers by the register. First editions pop up every other grab. Lovingly read books creak open to show you their unique stories and odd photos. You’ll find cookbooks, children’s stories both old and new, psychology and social science books, fiction, non-fiction, local handmade books, and maybe even something as unusual as an instruction book on the best ways to kiss a woman: titled The Art of Kissing (copyright 1936, reprinted in 1988).
This last example is why I have a particular affinity for Pop-Hop. I’m a person who will pick up old communist manifestos and books from the 1900s on how to learn Esperanto, and at Pop-Hop, Sarah displays this same affinity for the odd and rare little book. If you’re looking for a surprising read, or a gift for the book loving person in your life, Pop-Hop is the place to go.
You should also swing by if you’re looking for that yard sale item that’s escaped you, or fun handmade art by local artists. Scattered around the shelves, bits of scrap art mingle with very precious French mugs, and it’s not at all unusual to see very small screen-printing screens acting as bookends. Another aspect to the Pop-Hop shop is its screen-printing studio run by Robey. The walls are hung with bags, t-shirts, and baby clothes that were all screen-printed in house. They run weekend workshops where you can learn to screen print, or make a handmade book. Also on weekends they host story times for kids as well as readings and music performances open to the public, and participate in the NELA bi-weekly art walk. Basically their feet aren’t just wet, they’re soaked from all the activities they’ve both started and become involved with in only the first year of their existence. They’ve created an inviting open space where everyone is welcome, and they’re flourishing.
I appreciate what Pop-Hop does, that they’re helping to keep the printed book circulating and doing it with verve. Their unique and constant interaction with their neighborhood is creating a community, and a community with an appreciation for books and art. A community with this kind of appreciation isn’t going to let a place like Pop-Hop slip away in the oncoming storm of electronic books. Pop-Hop is a lesson in the adaptability of the bookstore, and it’s a lesson I hope other aspiring bookstore owners can pick up, make their own, and run with.
By Jessica Marie Felleman
an Associate Editor for Black Clock and an MFA Writing candidate at CalArts.
