Leopold’s Books is a new bookstore in Detroit. It’s well-stocked and I suggest you go down there (next to Good Girls Go To Paris Crepes – good idea for a lazy Sunday morning). I asked how they select the books and he said it was whatever interested them. Leopold’s Books is obviously interested in awesome shit.
The layout is open, minimalist and modern. Usually layouts like that make me nervous but I was fine in there.
At first, I thought it was all art books (my interest level in art books is about as high as my interest level in Miley Cyrus). Then I noticed the other side of the room was devoted to real literature. The mix was eclectic: Jonathan Lethem’s Chronic City, Detroit’s own Patti Smith’s Just Kids, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road: The Original Scroll (which I ALMOST got), Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (which I definitely did NOT almost get) and Alexis de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America.
I ended up purchasing Herman Melville’s Moby Dick and Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude (but not the same versions as the ones I’ve linked to – the books I bought had the vintage look…so hot…). I decided on Moby-Dick because I’m twenty-three and haven’t read it yet (secret shame). I picked up Marquez because I was reading about magic realism the other day and wanted to see what it’s all about.
The man at the checkout (I think he’s the owner, but don’t quote me) mentioned that Moby-Dick is one of his favorite American lit books. He also said there are long passages in the book that I might want to skim, but he personally found interesting. After, @brandonbayer and I talked about how much of a loaded statement it is to say that Mody-Dick is one of your favorite books. I stated, and I stand by this: anyone who tells you their favorite book is Moby-Dick is not lying. Mainly because you can’t lie about that. It’d be bibliophile blasphemy.