Joseph Torra writes about the Grolier Book Shop. I used to go occasionally, with some excitement. the last time was dreary and I didn't want to go back. I first went there when Gordon Cairnie still ran the place. I didn't have much interaction with him, but I got the impression that he was crochety. I asked him, has the third volume of Maximus poems been released and he replied with a terse no that seemed to be the answer to any further questions I might have. another time a hapless fellow bumbled in, asked if the store would like to take his book on consignment. the same no was the reply that he received. once I was there reading a book perhaps by Berrigan, in which he recounts visiting Grolier Bookstore, oo trippy. the store didn't change much when Louisa took over. a shelf was given over to Women's Studies, and a cat or dog moved in. she never bothered me but once when I went in with a friend she kept an eye on him, and rather acidically warned him not to put books back in the wrong place (like it mattered there), even tho he hadn't threatened the like. I stopped making the journey to the store because I was finding books thru Segue and SPD. when I went back a few years ago, there was now a security gate. it's hard to believe but she claims pilferage has been heavy. that heavy. at any rate, that security gate took room that the little storefront couldn't really afford. she was remarkably suspicious too. so the place was anything but fun to shop in. the shop should carry on, it's a landmark. I hope the new owner understands that. a restaurant in Boston called Durgin Park is somehow famous for its rude waitresses. tourists are supposed to throng there for the pleasure of that. I doubt locals go there. Grolier was kinda like that. I don't get it. it really is a store full of poetry, tho, and that's a wonder.