The picture that serves as my main border was taken at the premier "book fort" in the world known as Shakespeare & Co. Bookstore located in the Left Bank of Paris directly across the way from the Notre-Dame Cathedral.
The bookstore, which was first run by a Miss Sylvia Beach, has the distinction of being resposible for the publication of Ulysses by James Joyce. Sylvia Beach was a a very hip ex-pat who was held captive for six months during World War II and was forced to close her shop. Sylvia kept her books hidden in a vacant apartment during her internment. Her street cred led Ernest Hemingway to "symbolically" liberate the shop in person in 1944, but it was never reopened.
Today, visitors known as 'tumbleweeds' are encouraged to stay for as long as they like in the makeshift dormitories lined with books located on the upper level of the shop. The stay is permitted under the condition that they help tidy the shop and leave a short bio and photograph of themself behind. Old George even goes as far as to cook up pancake breakfast for his guests on Sunday mornings. Some 50,000 people have stayed at Casa de Shakespeare and Co., including Henry Miller, Anäis Nin, and Allen Ginsberg who have all shared a pancake or two with George.
Whitman, who claims to be a descendent of THE Whitman, (which most claim is untrue) is widely known for his eccenticities. The film below depicts Whitman giving himself a "haircut" using a candle.
Below is the link to the full documentary on Whitman:
The real point of this extremely long post (surprise!) is the magical tour of the book fort which can be found at the link below.
It takes a minute to load but it's way worth the wait: Tour the Shop
"My bookstore had drifted into being the sort of place that might have been designed by the world's greatest architects. I have let my imagination run wild with the result that a stranger walking the streets of Paris can believe he is entering just another of the bookstores along the left bank of the Seine but if he finds his way through a labyrinth of alcoves and cubbyholes and climbs a stairway leading to my private residence then he can linger there and enjoy reading the books in my library and looking at the pictures on the walls of my bedroom."(George Whitman)
