Bookstores are magical any time of year, but at Christmas, especially so. Not only because books make the perfect gift, but because books open us up to other worlds. No matter the genre, books are escapist therapy. And escape is nowhere more necessary than at the end of another year. A year that, in terms of world disasters, well qualifies as an annus horribilus, to coin a phrase of our late Queen.  Perhaps we say that at the end of every year, in the fanciful hope that the next one might be better. Thank goodness though for Christmas, when despite the festive frenzy, it’s a niche we can carve out of the insanity and at least ponder on the possibility of goodwill. Christmas, in its best sense, should be a gathering in. Of friends, family, ideals, memories. We can hold close to the idea of this, if nothing else, and in the act of giving create a buffer against the storms, past present and future. 

Giving gifts is a perennial tradition and choosing books as gifts almost as ingrained a habit.

An article by Jennifer Harlan in the December 2, 2022 issue of The New York Times reports that Christmas first became celebrated as a domestic holiday in the 1880s. An article in the same newspaper on December 11, 1895, describes hordes of shoppers flocking to bookstores in search of festive gifts “wondering if there is anything more satisfactory in the world of Christmas delights”. 

Booksellers quickly realised Christmas was a selling opportunity for the taking. As Stephen Nissenbaum recounts in his book “The Battle for Christmas: A Social and Cultural History of Our Most Cherished Holiday” “… publishers and booksellers were the shock troops in exploiting – and developing – a Christmas trade. And books were on the cutting edge of a commercial Christmas, making up more than half of the earliest items advertised as Christmas gifts.”

Books are very personal gifts, as anyone who’s tried to buy one knows. You may think you’re intimately acquainted with the recipient but faced with choosing a book for them, you often realise you know everything about them except their reading preferences. Or even whether they read books at all. This is where the ubiquitous book voucher (cop-out though it is) comes into its own. I’ve nothing against vouchers. They’re eminently practical, but too easy. Making the effort to guess what your friend, lover, maiden aunt, or whoever might enjoy is part of the spirit of giving. We’re obliged to think about the person, what they talk about, think about, love, aspire to or remember. An impersonal voucher transaction pales in comparison.

If you’re astute enough to hit on the perfect book for someone on your list, they’ll be incredibly grateful. As was Virginia Woolf on receiving a book from her friend Violet Dickinson. Her thank you note, although it sets somewhat of a precedent in effusiveness, must have cheered Violet’s soul no end. According to the Reading Experience Database Virginia wrote the following:  

“I am reading your Keats, with the pleasure of one handling great luminous stones. I rise and shout in ecstasy and my eyes brim with such pleasure that I must drop the book and gaze from the window.”

No country knows how to maximise the happy alliance between books and Christmas like Iceland. According to an article in NPR Magazine, “Iceland publishes more books per capita than any other country in the world, with five titles published for every 1,000 Icelanders”. Is it something to do with the weather? While that might contribute, it’s actually the centuries-old literary culture that goes back to medieval times. Icelanders just love books. And at Christmas they go slightly mad, indulging in a national tradition called Jolabokaflod (the Christmas Book Flood), when publishers release a record number of new titles for the Christmas market. In the lead-up to this the Iceland Publishers Association distributes to every home the Bokatidindi, a free catalogue. Not only are books treasured in Iceland, and particularly as Christmas gifts, but Icelandic tradition dictates that gifts are opened on 24 December. Everyone in receipt of a book (and this is almost every person) must begin reading their book straight away, reading through the night until it’s finished, preferably in bed with a mug of hot chocolate.

Not to be outdone, Bookseller magazine in the UK founded a tradition called Super Thursday, when in a ritual equivalent to Pamplona’s running of the bulls, publishers release hundreds of their most saleable titles into the Christmas market bull ring. The competition is not just for sales volumes but for attaining the honour of being Christmas number one on the charts.

This year’s Super Thursday saw releases of books by authors such as Julia Donaldson, Ian Rankin, Alice Oseman and Michelle Obama.

Books are the gift that keeps on giving. Like plants but with the benefit of not dying if neglected. It goes without saying that hard copy books outrank eBooks. As well as being a repository of stories, ideas, dreams, opinions and tales of other lives, books are desirable objects in themselves. Whether a rare, leather-bound, gilt embossed first edition, or a mass market paperback plucked from the new releases counter at your local bookstore, books are invested with a life of their own. They are tactile and solid. You can hold them, smell and feel them, admire the pictures, even if the only ones are the cover and the author shot, and best of all they’re easy to wrap.

When it comes to bookstores there are many to browse, both the physical entities and online. Online is easier, but the real-life experience is more fulfilling. If the ambience of the shop is right, the shelves are well stocked, the atmosphere is peaceful, the staff are helpful without being intrusive, the experience can be a delight. Somewhere comfortable to sit and think about your choices is an added bonus. The cream on the cake is the bookstore-cafe where you can get a coffee (and a cake too for that matter). One of the best of these is the legendary Shakespeare & Co in Paris. A bit of a trip, unless you’re lucky enough to be a local, but in terms of everything that makes a bookstore great, unequalled.