The Fight for the Paris Bouquinistes
Why the Olympics could spell disaster for Paris's iconic booksellers
One of my fondest memories of Paris is a bright sunny day in December 2019 when I decided to spend the day by myself and found myself strolling along the banks of the Seine near Notre Dame. We had spend the Christmas holidays in Paris and as a recent freelancer, I decided to spend a few days by myself in the city of lights.
As I strolled along the banks, mesmorized by the cotton candy sky of the setting sun, I came across a bookseller selling pins and spotted a pin of a kachina doll with the words Arizona. Delighted at having found something from my hometown so far away, I ofcourse purchased the pin along with a few other vintage ones. The bookseller, a lovely woman with a black beret, asked me where I was from.
“Arizona,” I said, opting not to give her the more complex story.
“I knew if I kept the Arizona pin someone from there would buy it,” she said, laughing.
Four years later, her green wooden box along the Seine along with the boxes of dozens of other booksellers is in danger, as the city has asked the bouquinistes to dismantle their outdoor stores to make way for the opening ceremony of the Olympics.
“It’s not possible,” they said, fearing as many do, that this order could be the final nail in the coffin of many years of struggling against online retailers, Covid, and protests. Could the Olympics bring about an end to a Parisian tradition dating back before the French Revolution?
The word bouquinistes was first noted in the Dictionnaire de Trévoux in 1752, referring to the sellers of old books. The word comes from the Flemish word boeckin, meaning small book, which was itself from medieval Middle Dutch boek.
The tradition of selling small books along the banks of the Seine dates back to at least the 16th century, when peddlers would sell wares including books, generally displayed on blankets or on carts. Sales even continued during the French Revolution, as booksellers prospered from the pillaging of the libraries of the aristocracy and clergy.
It wasn’t until 1859 that the city of Paris and the booksellers agreed to establish themselves at fixed points along the Seine. Booksellers were entitled to 10 meters (32 feet) of space with an annual tolerance fee of 26.35 francs and a tax of 25 francs. In 1891 the current boxes were made official, so booksellers should leave their books overnight. In the early 1900s the dimensions of the boxes were fixed, with a regulated color called wagon green, the same green as the Wallace Fountains. The raised cover was also restricted to no more than 2.10 meters (6.89 feet) above the ground in order to not obstruct the view.
Today the bouquinistes do not pay rent or tax but they must operate under very strict rules. They must be part of the trade and companies register, with most registered as self-employed. They are only allowed to occupy 8 metres (26.2 feet) of parapet, which allows up to four boxes. They most open four days a week, except in bad weather. They are only authorized to sell books, old papers and engravings, and in one box, can sell coins, medals, old stamps, postcards and other objects that would be found at a flea market or souvenirs from Paris. Most only make €600 to €1,300 a month, far below minimum wage.
Discussions between the bouquinistes, Paris city hall, and the French government over their removal during the Olympics continue as the three try to reach a compromise. The police have agreed to test the feasibility of the move on a few boxes to see if a move will indeed harm them, as many of the boxes are over a hundred years old and fragile. While the City of Paris has said it will cover any damages to the boxes, the bouquinistes and the public are still concerned. Over 147,000 signatures have been gathered on a petition to stop the bouquinistes from being moved.
The fight over the bouquinistes highlights just one of many issues highlighted over the Olympics that will take place in the city of lights next year. The city and surrounding suburbs are changing, with much-needed renovations to the metro system, long-term plans to make the city more walkable, and concerns about how the city should adapt to climate change.
Unfortunately, like anything that involves a lot of bureaucracy and change, institutions like the bouquinistes are in the crosshairs. With many Parisians concerned about the impact of the Olympics on the city, we can only hope that the city hall listens to locals and doesn’t completely change one of its iconic images simply for one event.
Bravo Moriah
I found this post via Judy’s restack. I can’t imagine Paris without the bouquinistes--what does the city want to put there during the olympics?