The New York Public Library Belmont branch offers visitors an array of book options and modern architecture. Courtesy of Michael Dobuski.
By Michael Dobuski
A few years ago, a small bookstore on Westchester Ave. underneath the L train closed its doors for the last time. 6sixty-three-year-old LaVerne Harris opened the shop, cheekily named Books in the Hood, in the winter of 2007 as a way of showing local kids that reading could be fun.
Harris and her son created more than just a bookstore, however. The shop became a center for Bronx authors to meet and talk about their work. The space was also used for poetry slams (which Harris emceed), story time for younger kids and people who just wanted to read on one of the two couches or feed the store’s pet turtle.
Unfortunately, the wealth of knowledge and warm community atmosphere could not last. Though Harris dipped into her retirement fund to keep her business above water, Books in the Hood shut down in December of 2011. It was the last independent bookstore in the borough.
The story of booksellers in the Bronx did not end with the shuttering of a tiny independent outfit in Longwood. A more resounding conclusion came last year, in Bay Plaza, after a labored and prolonged leasing dispute ousted the last Barnes & Noble, leaving the nation’s poorest congressional district devoid of booksellers.
Books may not be the first things that come to mind when thinking about the Bronx, but perhaps they should be. After all, Edgar Allan Poe lived here the last few years of his life, during which time he wrote some of his most famous poems, including “Annabel Lee” and “The Bells.” Mary Higgins Clark, famed suspense writer known for her 1975 novel “Where Are the Children,” lives here, as did Oliver Sacks, whose 1985 book “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat” gave the scientific community renewed fervor and a greater insight into the world of neurology. There is an undercurrent of literary brilliance here, one just needs to know where to look. It is such a shame that outlets for this creative potential are becoming harder and harder to find.
They are not impossible to come across. Though it may appear that literature in the Bronx has been pushed out by things like economic hardship and lack of interest, the reality is that bookworms may just be adapting to changing conditions. CrossBronx is an online literary magazine published by the Bronx Council of the Arts and backed by the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, the Greater New York Arts Development Fund, the Carnegie Corporation and The Scherman Foundation. CrossBronx compiles all forms of prose and poetry from local writers who, according to poetry editor Helen Dano, “have their ears pressed to the soul of the Bronx; their hearts caressing the energies, perspectives, sounds and edginess that make this Bronx unique.” Energetic writing like this is a theme that is carried through CrossBronx. It is lively, dramatic and pulpy. Similar to Carlos Henriquez’s jazz show from a few weeks ago, this is art that is best enjoyed in a frenzied, caught-up-in-the-moment sort of way.
There are other glimmers of hope. On Hughes Avenue and 186th street is Frank Simone Square.
What makes it notable, however, is the modern-looking building on the corner. The New York Public Library opened its Belmont branch in 1981, serving the community not only with a wealth of books, but also as a center for Italian and Italian-American heritage. The library is composed of two stories and a glass ceiling to let in some natural light. There is a tiled reading area with a potted tree in the corner that conjures images of outdoor park spaces. In the entryway, a small display highlights the work of Frank Palombo, who was the in-house graphic artist for three Bronx borough presidents. The walls are lined with everything from Charles Dickens to anime. There is an expansive section dedicated to Italian language and culture, as well as an equally extensive space for Spanish-language books.
Walking around the library is a strangely melancholy experience. It makes you realize that it is becoming harder and harder to browse for things. Every search is so directed now. That is the beauty of old-fashioned, brick-and-mortar locations stuffed with books. They allow you to flip to a random page and read about a Persian model chariot from the fifith century, or how Nabakov’s “Lolita” impacted popular culture, or how to make lima bean puree from Peru. More than that, what is really striking about the Belmont branch is that it really feels like any familiar library. That is a good thing, though, because public libraries and book distributers do not need to be fancy. They do not need an app or social media presence. They just need to be there.
