Weekend
Getaways
Seattle, by the book
Gregory
Walters
Seattle
The
Globe and Mail
Updated
May 18, 2018
It’s
never hard to find a good read at Elliott Bay Book Co., whose staff
recommends titles.
Gregory
Walters
Click HERE to see the original article.
Living
in Vancouver, I often ignore the dismal exchange rate and travel to
Seattle for a convenient getaway. But I’ve fallen into comfortable
habits — favourite restaurants, familiar parks, and cafés that
serve as good a cup of joe as I can get in, well, Vancouver.
Yet
a familiar travel destination can feel new again when the traveller
has a specific lens through which to view it. So after I found out
that UNESCO had added Seattle to its list of “creative cities” in
the field of literature last year, I decided to build an itinerary
around this recent designation and determine whether our unofficial
twin city was deserving of this recognition. (I will admit I felt a
pang of jealousy that Vancouver didn’t rate; surely we didn’t
apply.)
Day
1
The
Suzzallo Library’s reading room at the University of Washington is
straight out of Harry Potter (or Oxford, if that’s more your
reference point).
Gregory
Walters
My
three-day adventure begins at Couth
Buzzard Books in
northern Seattle. This lovingly cluttered store carries new and used
books, but it’s the folksy atmosphere that makes a lasting
impression. During my visit, 20 people participate in a New York
Times discussion in a space that also plays host to readings,
concerts, Zumba (in a bookstore!) and twice-monthly open mic comedy
nights. The events exemplify what an independent bookstore must do in
the age of Amazon, which is headquartered just 9.5 kilometres away.
I
then make my way to the University of Washington and stroll the
campus, marveling at Yoshino cherry blossoms in full bloom. Like
everyone else, I click my phone camera in every direction.
The
literary highlight of UW is the 76-metre long Reading Room of the
Suzzallo
Library,
with its vaulted ceiling and stained-glass windows. The space is
positively Potteresque (Oxfordian, if you prefer to sound more
scholarly). I sit at one of the long reading tables and spend an hour
soaking in the setting while writing and expanding my vocabulary from
a randomly pulled book: Hugh Rawson’s Wicked Words: A Treasury of
Curses, Insults, Put-downs, and Other Formerly Unprintable Terms from
Anglo-Saxon Times to the Present.
Next,
I drive to the Duwamish Tribe’s
Longhouse & Cultural Center
in South Seattle to learn about people who have been here since time
immemorial. As skilled oral storytellers, the Duwamish represent the
naissance of Seattle’s robust literary identity. The city gets its
name from Duwamish leader S’eey’ahl (or Si’ahl), anglicized to
Chief Seattle.
From
the road, a large orange silhouette of S’eey’ahl hangs on wire
netting, along with the message, “Chief Seattle is watching.”
Inside
the longhouse, the yellow cedar posts and plank benches make a grand
statement but it’s the “basket floor,” a seeming patchwork of
two-by-four plank ends of varied hues, that elicits the greatest awe.
Upon leaving, I buy a copy of David Buerge’s Chief Seattle and the
Town that Took His Name.
Being
a city known for literature, speaking events are easy to find. I trek
from my downtown hotel later in the day to Capitol Hill to hear
author Charles Johnson speak on storytelling at the intimate,
well-worn Annex
Theater.
The event is sponsored by Hugo House, described online as “a place
for writers, with a concentrated focus on helping anyone who wants to
write.” People wait by the will-call table, hoping a seat will open
up for this sold-out event.
Day
2
Elliott
Bay Book Co.’s interior of wood floors and sturdy ceiling beams are
as impressive as the shelves of books for sale.
Gregory
Walters
The
second day opens with coffee and a cherry blossom-glazed doughnut at
Top
Pot,
a too convenient half-block from my downtown hotel. This flagship
store of the beloved Seattle-based chain continues the literary theme
(and justifies my sugar indulgence) with floor-to-ceiling shelves of
hardbound books, the old kind with gold embossments and no pictures
on the cover. One title, Career by Proxy by the prolific Faith
Baldwin, intrigues but, alas, this is one time when a line moves too
fast.
My
visit to the Museum
of Pop Culture,
a funky Frank Gehry-designed building in Seattle Center, focuses on
its Science Fiction Hall of Fame room where people of all ages bounce
from display to display, freely exposing their inner geek while
viewing iconic costumes, props and manuscripts. I squeal upon seeing
pages from a colorfully marked-up handwritten manuscript of Jack
Vance’s The Face and pages from Ursula K. Le Guin’s A Wizard of
Earthsea. I meander elsewhere, pulling an oversized storybook door to
explore a separate fantasy exhibit where I follow simple steps on a
screen to create my own fantasy world.
As
it’s a sunny day, I then head to the Washington State Ferries
Terminal and board as a foot passenger to Bainbridge Island, a blank
slate on my agenda. Disembarking, I follow the swarm of pedestrians
and come upon the Bainbridge
Island Museum of Art,
the first building on the main strip. The museum includes several
impressive current exhibits, but with my literary focus, I check out
the second floor’s Sherry Grover Gallery, also known as the Book
Room, to view “Artist’s Books: Chapter 13 – Lyricism &
Laughter,” a deserved spotlight on handmade pop-up books, including
many from the collection of BIMA founder Cynthia Sears.
Back
on the ground floor, I linger as a string quartet plays. After
strolling through galleries and the warm, wood-floored Eagle Harbor
Book Co., I make the return ferry trip, a chance to watch an eagle
soaring over the island’s shoreline before gazing at the Seattle
skyline in the other direction.
I
rush to quirky Ada’s
Technical Books & Café
to order a tasty kale and squash salad before the full kitchen closes
at 5 p.m. Described on its website as a place “where the technical
mind finds what it craves,” it is named after Ada Lovelace, a
19th-century English mathematician sometimes regarded as the first
computer programmer. My eyes dart everywhere, taking in the gadgetry
and decor while finding amusement from titles such as Cyborg
Anthropology, High-Security Mechanical Locks and Visual Guide to Lock
Picking.
Downtime
after dinner allows an unhurried must-stop at Elliott
Bay Book Co.,
a glorious environment for bibliophiles to discover new titles.
Walking the wood floors, I peer up at the exposed wood trusses and
pipes in this airy space. As with most independent bookstores in
Seattle, Elliott Bay has innumerable handwritten staff
recommendations dangling from shelves. I manage to limit myself to
one purchase — Writing the Other by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward,
inconspicuous on a bottom shelf except for its recommendation tag.
Day
3
Seattle
Central Library is an architectural marvel, designed by Rem Koolhaas
and Joshua Ramus and clad in 10,000 windows.
Gregory
Walters
Brunch
at Bookstore
Bar & Café
kicks off the final day. Not ready for either the “Boo Radley Sour”
or the “Good Night Moon” cocktail, I sit in a sturdy oak library
chair and order quinoa pancakes (albeit with bourbon syrup). The
decor captures a bookish setting, with a library ladder and a large
liquor selection filling shelves around a bar adorned by library
lamps.
My
final chapter is a self-tour of the stunning Central
Library.
Designed by Rem Koolhaas and Joshua Ramus and completed in 2004, it’s
a geometric wonder of steel and almost 10,000 windows. The interior
pops with bright colours, including a pink rubberized floor in the
children’s area, space age chartreuse escalators and blue, red and
purple seating in the 10 floor reading sanctuary. From an overhang on
the 10th, I peer down at the floors below and fight queasiness as I
snap pics.
Heading
home, I am newly inspired to write, determined to seek out my own
city’s literary treasures and excited about returning to this City
of Literature for more focused events and adventures.
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