Powell’s Books sprawls over a block in the Pearl District of downtown Portland.
(Candace #19) – I have seen my future, and it looks strangely like Powell’s Books in Portland.
(Excuse me while I sigh contentedly.)
It’s been a longtime dream of mine to prowl the cavernous corners of what is possibly the world’s largest new and used independent bookstore. Powell’s spans an entire city block. Oh, yeah, baby. That’s enough to put a grin the size of Texas on the face of any bibliophile.
Recently, for a few delicious hours, I roamed Powell’s for the first time. A good first stop is the used book counter, where you can trade in your discards for cash or store credit. Even the surly anti-California bias from the guy behind the counter couldn’t deter my enthusiasm for the exploration ahead.
Grab a handcart — if you’re lucky, you might score one of the elusive shopping carts — and start your travels. I did some deliberate searches, made easy by computerized reference stations and grocery-storelike numbered aisles. Then I indulged my meandering muse, which led me like a happy sheep from psychology to mythology to an entire shelf on simple living.
Powell’s lumps new and used copies together, so you have a choice when you find a likeable tome. Were I not limited by the fiscal confines of this “new beat” (yes, there has to be a downside), I likely would have parted with a pile of cash the size of Texas. Old favorite authors, catchy new titles….the more I looked, the hungrier I got.
The store is not pretentious — it’s got cement floors and doesn’t look flashy from most street angles — but it’s the real deal. A bookstore where you can walk in with a shopping list and walk out with all items checked off is a beautiful, beautiful thing.
(Photo credit: Cacophony)
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