Index
Jimbocho sits just a block or two from the Imperial palace. And, like the palace, it's a mixture of ancient traditions and modern living. Tiny, hole-in-the-wall bookshops filled with literal centuries worth of books, maps, diaries, and photographs sit quietly alongside a major thoroughfare, eminently walkable and yet somehow slightly imposing.
Today, the central alleyways have been closed to all but foot traffic and dozens, possibly hundreds, of book sellers have brought out their discounts, bargains, and hidden treasures all so the hundreds, possibly thousands, of shoppers can find the rare tome they didn't know they'd been looking for.
It's the first time the Used Book Fair has been held in three years, the previous two years having been cancelled because, well, you know. The crowd seems rushed and frenzied as if they need to be here just in case this year, too, is cancelled. But so far, so good. The sun is shining, it's a pleasantly warm 19 degrees and I've just spotted a book I've been looking for for a decade and a half1. Alas, it is out of my price range.
No matter, thousands more treasures hide within the walls of the shops and lie piled up in great stacks on every available surface outside: tables, beer crates, hand trolleys, even the stairs leading to a discrete apartment tucked above one shop. The pickings are particularly interesting this year, as pandemic-wrought changes in inventories make themselves slowly known.
In one shop, a pile of French comics from the 1980s sits next to a pile of Japanese girly magazines of equal vintage2. The collection bears the telltale signs of having been recently liquidated: everything is in order and no volumes appear to be missing. Someone sold their collection, why, who can say? Another store appears to have multiple volumes of a library set of advanced math and physics handbooks of the sort an engineering firm in the 60s might have kept on hand for reference. How have they come to be here? The shop keeper is far too busy wrapping customers' purchases in brown paper to respond.
It's heading on towards noon and I need a break. The crowd has thickened and gained an unpleasant vibe in doing so. Elbows are being tossed around a little more frequently, collisions are responded to with silence rather than apologies. It's as if nobody knows just how to be a crowd anymore, which is a problem as the narrow alleyways of Jimbocho have not grown any wider to accommodate the latecomers.
Still part of the rebranding and gentrification of Jimbocho has been a rash of new cafes and eateries tucked into every corner. My favorite3 is back away from the main crush of the festival and has outdoor seating. A light lunch and a heavy beer later, I'm more willing to brave the crowds, but decide to give it another minute or two because I'm too comfortable where I am.
I've been taking pictures all morning, but two challenges have prevented me from getting the shots I really want; well, they will prevent me from publishing4 some of my best shots.
For the first, Japan has very strict privacy laws; taking a picture of someone without their consent is frowned upon5. In some cases, the photographer can even be sued for invasion of privacy. I've worked around this as much as I can, cropping shots in-camera and positioning myself so that I get the backs of heads and that identifying features are indistinguishable.
The other factor is the plethora of "no photos please" signs that sit prominently in every storefront. So my camera, for the most part, stays in my pocket.
I'll have to content myself with taking pictures of Tokyo itself. It shouldn't be too hard; it's a beautiful, easy walk back to Tokyo Station...but first, one last coffee at one of the cafes, then one last stop at one of my favorite shops, and then we'll see about one last photo before it's time to hop back on the train and head for home.
Below are some notes about the photos presented above. Thanks for reading.
Selections - the central alley gets cordoned off and stalls are set up facing the shops on both sides of the streets. The sidewalks are a narrow throng of people shopping. It’s great.
Hand Trolley - however, getting merchandise from the stores to the stalls can be a bit tricky. More than one shopkeeper opted to just leave the handcart out in the street and only reclaim it once it was empty.
Streetside - what I really love about this bookshelf is that it’s built onto the outside of a shop, jutting into the alley. It’s got its own special shutters that pull down over it.
Discount - the festival itself boasts a 10% discount on any and all books purchased during the fair, but lots of the shops see this as a chance to clear out old inventory and price accordingly.
Tea - right in the middle of all the book stalls was this one tea shop. They were doing some serious business, too.
Staircase - probably my favorite shot of the day. This staircase led up to a small apartment tucked above one of the shops; presumably the bookstore owner lives there or at least has access, but the entire stairway was filled with books like these, bound into sets and ready for new homes. I’d take them all if I could.
Homeward - it was a good day to be out. I’m glad I went.
I was more than a little tempted by the comics, but the owner wouldn’t let them go as single issues and the whole set just seemed like trouble.
No, I’m not telling. However, make it to Japan and I will happily take you there. First beer is on me.
This is an ongoing issue. It’s also one of the things that drives me nuts - I see tourists and vacationers getting amazing shots, safe in their ignorance, or, worse, secure in the knowledge that they’re outside the range of prosecution.
I’ve erred on the side of caution in these photos, but if there is something you see in any of my photos, ever, that you think might be breaking either a legal or ethical standard, let me know. It’s a conversation always worth having.