Shakespeare and Co.

We all know that languages evolve and often dramatic change can even come about in merely a generation or two. We only have to look at how abbreviations have become popular in text as well as internet hip hop cyber-jargon. Sometimes quite daunting, even to a professional decipher expert in an Intelligence Agency.

Nevertheless, whether the language is English, French, German or even Urdu there remains the purists who pride themselves on using their criteria at a point where they feel their own particular language has reached its peak in terms of perfection.

Shakespearian English, although not in its lyrical form, is a yardstick that is often referred to when we speak of the purity of the language I am using here. In fact, in most parts of the Euro-zone areas where English is taught as a second language, it is somewhat more precise than taught in the home counties of England – as it also is in many parts of the north-west areas of the USA. Many might say, Bostonian English can often be easier to follow – in its written and spoken form – than the English taught at Wallow-on-the-Marsh in rural England.

So why do I make this initial point?

People who had the great pleasure of reading Helen Hanff’s modern classic, 84 Charing Cross Road where a Philadelphia born New York based writer – first published in 1970 – where it shows her 20 years of correspondence with Frank Doel, a buyer for Marks & Co, a London bookshop, on which she depended on obscure classics and British literature titles, which her passion for self-education revolved (The book was made into a film with Anthony Hopkins and Anne Bancroft, and a must for all lovers of fine literature) they will appreciate why, when George Whitman, the Owner of Paris’ famous English language bookshop, Shakespeare and Company died last week aged 98 and that he was mourned around the world by great writers, would-be writers and millions of readers alike.

The remarkable longevity of this eccentric, but much loved man – and the fact that through books – fantasy and fiction – his life probably took on wonderful disguises, brilliant adventures, time travelled and had altogether unremitting romances – that always ended well – and endured battles and mayhem, yet came out of it all totally unscathed. His entire life was books – books that could quite literally take your breath away. And, wonder of all wonders, they were all in English – IN PARIS!

When I first visited this amazing shop I was into my second year at Oxford and enamoured by a language that was not my original mother tongue, but having already absorbed the great writings of Madame de Lafayette, Voltaire, Alexandre Dumas, Théophile and Jean-Paul Sartre my mind was drawn to the great English writers.

George Whitman had by then, expanded his small shop to house 13 extra people if required to do so. Either the accomplished high and mighties, or aspiring would-bees if they could-bees and even just the lowly book lovers could stay when in town – free of charge. Oh, yes, George had strong socialistic leanings and he had kept acquiring more portions of the building he was in to house his great loves. Books and the people who also loved his books.

In those days – myself, the usual struggling student of the times – spent a night talking to George surrounded by his books, plays and anything that he thought was a great work of art in the written English word.

These works swallowed up George’s life and if you couldn’t afford to buy something that was required reading, George would lend it, again free of charge.

George saw himself as patron of a literary haven, and in the lean years after World War II, and the heir to Sylvia Beach, the founder of the original Shakespeare & Company, the original shop became a haunt of Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce in its early days.

Overlooking the Seine and facing the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, the store appears, now, like the old shops of the famous Charing Cross Road in London, a somewhat character filled, colourful store with a Dickensian flavour and over three floors is a mixture of open house and writers commune.

For countless years George Whitman provided food and makeshift beds to aspiring novelists letting them spend a night, a week, or even months living among the crowded shelves and alcoves.

Even more remarkable is, this great man was an American – born in 1913 in East Jersey. His early life saw him moving around the globe quite dramatically something that he continued to do into adulthood until he arrived in Paris and although without much money but with a great love and desire to open a book shop. He did just that in 1951.

When you look at another incredible thing is that the original owner of that first Shakespeare & Company was also an American – Sylvia Beach who was born in 1887 in Baltimore USA and in moving to Paris also dreamt of opening her own book store which she did in 1919 calling it Shakespeare & Company. (George inherited this title upon her death in 1962 and again applied this name to the current book shop as a homage to her.)

Sylvia Beach, sadly had to close her doors to S&C during the German occupation in 1941. Rumor had it the Gestapo thought it was being used as a meeting place for Secret Agents for the allies.

That aside, here we have two Americans bringing the English language together – and not an English man or woman in sight.

When you see the English Prime Minister, Cameron, French President Sarkozy and German Chancellor, Merkel all speaking together they use, what in France and Germany is known as ‘Shakespearean English.’ That is not to say, that Sarkozy cries, ‘Ah, where art thou with thee economy, thou roguish Cameron?’ Nor does Merkel disappointingly says to Sarkozy ‘What hast thee hidden up thou vast proboscis?’ No. Of course not! The term is merely applied to a preciseness of ‘Business English,’ and given the term ‘Shakespearian.’ Perhaps because it is more colourful and visual. An articulated sense of the word. Maybe it is the English that many of us would prefer to see at times, even though preciseness can often deprive us of one of the idioms of indigenized English, for without that idiomatic colour and flavour, TV drama and film would be dreary and very mundane. So we compromise. A bit of this and a bit of that!

George saw himself as patron of a literary haven in the lean years after World War II, and being the heir to a small inheritance of his Aunts, as well as the heir to a lot of Sylvia Beach’s fine books, plus the name of her store Shakespeare & Company. And, as a gracious nod to her, when George’s daughter was born, she was given the classical name of Sylvia Beach Whitman.

So, let us just say, that while the great and wonderful man, George Whitman helped keep English intact, while he may not have been part of the evolution of English as a language, he kept its purity enshrined for those who like it that way!

A great place to browse and find a huge selection of books in English. It can be very busy at times but staff are very helpful.

Lovely little book shop, ideally located right by Notre Dame. It’s quite pricy, but if you want books in English whilst in Paris I would recommend here.

Long live Shakespeare and Company. Not cheap, but a true book-lover's experience.

I had what the french call a Coup de Foudre here;
it gets you under the skin this place, if you love
books, the smell, the feel,being around other writers
& readers. Since 1964, it is now embedded in my soul.
Right opposite Notre Dame, round the corner from
my favourite hotel (reviewed elsewhere by me) &
the oldest church in Paris with its wonderful concerts.
I could settle here for life.

A great library that looks a lot like those you only see in films. There are books everywhere around you, all or most in English.
The only bad thing is that its become a tourist spot so it's often crowded and the place is quite small...

This is a very, very special place in the middle of wonderfull Paris. I try to come here on every visit. It's full of students, writers, actors and other kind of "bohemian" people. Unfortunately you hardly meet any French people, most visitors are american or british. Have I mentioned that the employees actually live in the bookshop? I probably shouldn't, but it brings this special and wonderful atmosphere to it. I mean: where in the world do people live in bookshops??? It's unique! There is even a library on the second floor of the shop. You can go upstairs, sit down and read. The books you find here are not for sale! If you don't feel like reading you can easily find other visitors who are up for a chat. There is a lot to say about at this special place! :-)

I really like this place but may have been too often. All that is said below is correct but it is now a shop where lots of folk come to be photographed rather than browse or buy. Have also been to a couple of entrancing but bizarre talks upstairs.

This bookshop is a definite must-visit attraction in Paris. It's a multi-language bookshop but an independent one, and combines jetsetty modernity and antique charm... the place is old and rickety, with random cats strewn about sleeping on piles of books - totally amazing!

It's a tiny shop that's bursting with culture and history and you'll feel more intelligent just having been there!

One for the literati...

Sylvia Beach opened the first Shakespeare and Co. at at 8 rue Dupuytren in the 6th Arrondissement after World War I. In 1921, she moved to 12 rue de l’Odéon, where she published Ulysses, befriended Hemingway and Fitzgerald, and struggled along until World War II put her out of business.

The current Shakespeare and Co. opened as Le Mistral in 1951. Beach and the owner George Whitman were friends, and when she died in 1962, Beach willed her books and the rights to the Shakespeare name to Whitman. So, while the current shop is not exactly an original, there is a legitimate line of succession.

Still, Shakespeare and Co. has less in common with the establishment of Beach's era, than with another style of bookseller that grew popular in the Beat Generation of the 1950s. The basic format was to trade on a name and rip off the tourists, in order to subsidize the creative efforts of a select cadre of starving artists. This formula is almost extinct today. City Lights in San Francisco still publishes unreadable works by obscure artists, but most of the beat bookstores of the world have dropped the starving and the tattered covers, and gone upmarket.

Shakespeare and Co. struggles on alone, and God bless them for this. There are better places to find English-language books in Paris - WH Smiths, for example, has kept up its own, slicker traditions - and more comfortable places to read, at least in summer. But as long as the tourists flock to Shakespeare and Co. in search of a fragment of some Lost Generation, there is always the chance that another James Joyce will arise out of here to plague the next generation of English Lit students.

The saleable point for this bookshop is it's romanised air. It pretty standard as they go, but it has a wishing well (ironically dried up) a non smoking smokers room, and other oddities. It is always packed to its short creaky rafters, mostly with loud obnoxious Americans, saying things like "Oh my god, like how deep is Proust?" while looking to see who thinks they are smart.
But it's all a part of the charm, trust me!
You will get a reasonably priced book, with a stamp to authenticate its origin. If you have a friend who swoons over "Before Sunset" then you can double up on brownie points- this is where Ethan Hawke's book reading is taking place.

I absolutely LOVE this place, I could just curl up in one of their little beds upstairs and live there under a pile of lovely old books.
Downstairs is the new and second hand bookshop, where you can browse for literally hours deciding which of the beautiful books to buy. Upstairs, is a whole different world. Up the winding wooden stairs we find a world piled floor to ceiling with old books of every kind which are not for sale. There is writing everywhere where amateur and professional, sometimes even famous, authors have penned works all over the walls. There is a typewriter set in a makeshift room in a corner, there is a mirror of love and a children’s section, there are beds for those who wish to stay there. The shop makes every enthusiastic reader or writer feel welcome. I urge everyone to please read more on the history of the shop online somewhere, or visit the shop yourself if you happen to be in Paris. It is an experience not to be forgotten.

There is no other way to describe Shakespeare & Company than utterly enchanting. Hidden away in the Latin Quarter of Paris, the shop is truly a gem. As soon as you enter the shop, you can see the converted three-storey house is literally filled with books of all genres and ages, and you can immerse yourself in them for hours. The owner George; a writer himself, rents out rooms to aspiring or struggling writers and has made the atmosphere in the shop homely and comfortable. There is a piano at the back of the first floor which is almost always occupied, which is amazing background when you are flicking through a book. On the second floor there is a wall of pictures and notes from visitors, which is truly touching, as well as newspaper cuttings about the shop and it’s visitors all around the place. I visited this shop advised by my grandfather who was allowed to stay by George when he was younger, and it was an experience I will never forget. This shop is one in a million, if you are a literary addict in Paris you MUST visit, you will not regret it. ...And don’t forget to chuck a couple of euros in the well for a cup of tea for the writers.

Can you give five stars for aura?? If so, then that’s what I put down for Shakespeare & Co. Every time I’m in Paris, I stop in here just to browse the shelves and look around. It’s a nice feeling, artsy with a hint of pretension, which is always down in Paris, one of the few cities that can get really away with it. The prices are rather on the high end, around €15 per title, but they usually have some sort of sale on -- a few times I collected 10 books for between €5 or €10 for the lot, depending on the time I went (“proper” books, too, classics, modern novels, bios, etc.). It’s right across from Notre Dame and is open until 11pm, so nighttime is my choice to browse here -- as you walk out, the lights at the cathedral and along the Seine are gorgeous.

Pretentious and overpriced, dodge camera-happy tourists and head somewhere else. There are two superior second-hand English bookshops just a few minutes walk away near Odeon, and if you want new books a better selection at better prices can be found at WH Smith. Shakespeare & Co. trades off the famous name of a completely unrelated, long-defunct bookstore, and markets itself as a center for creativity while essentially milking romantically-inclined tourists who wish to call themselves ‘writers’ with the several writers’ workshops it hosts upstairs in the library.

If you’re a tourist, go ahead. If you’re a writer, or a reader, don’t bother.

I stumbled upon this little bookshop by accident on my first ever visit to Paris. I fell in love with it straight away, and have been back many times since.
The entire building is filled wall-to-wall with books, old and new.
There are even books on old shelves out the front of the shop.
The first floor is filled with books for sale, and if you find the rickety little staircase (watch out for the cats underfoot!) you'll find yourself in a little second-floor apartment. Again, wall-to-wall books, but this is simply a reading library.
The history of the store is incredible... the creative outcasts of the world often stay here for free whilst finding their feet in Paris, and you'll see reminders of this as you explore it.. a toothbrush here, a blanket here..
It is like no other place I have ever been to, and I can say without any doubt, that it is my favourite shop on earth.