To start my four-day weekend in Toronto, today I visited two stores that used to be the focal points of my life as a fan: Silver Snail Comics and Bakka Books, officially Bakka-Phoenix since 2003.
My experience with both stores started when I was still in high school, although, in retrospect, I find myself wondering how I even knew that they existed, in the long-lost dark ages before the internet. The Toronto Star newspaper, perhaps? Probably some kind of review in the Arts and Entertainment section, I can't imagine that either store actually advertised in the Star.
Regardless, my desire to shop at Bakka and the Silver Snail was the start of a series of semi-annual Saturday bus trips to Toronto in the later years of my high school career - and probably also the start of my interest in travel, at that point in my life visiting Toronto was certainly an adventure, equally intimidating and invigorating.
A round trip bus ticket on the Ontario Northlander was under twenty dollars back then - I looked it up, it's a hundred and eight now - and you had to catch an early bus, 6:00 or 7:00 AM, to get the most out of the day before catching a late afternoon bus back. Generally I'd start the day with a hundred dollars, and earnestly do my very best to come back with nothing but loose change and a couple of bags filled with comic books and paperbacks.
When I moved to Toronto in the 80s to attend Ryerson Polytechnic, I visited the two stores almost every Saturday or Sunday. At that point in time, they were conveniently located almost across the street from each other on Queen Street, and it made for a pleasant little ritual on the weekend to take the subway downtown and do a little shopping.
That tradition continued for about twenty years - in case you've ever wondered how my library reached its current size - but finally came to an end when I relocated to Vancouver in 2004.
It saddens me to think of all the pre-internet ephemera from the two stores which has vanished over the years, lost to water damage, spring cleaning, or sheer lack of forethought - the Silver Snail newsletters, the commemorative posters that they used to hand out for free, copies of the Bakka Bookie Sheet with reviews, recommendations and new arrivals, their distinctive bookmarks, and all the other little bits and pieces of promotion and branding. It's not all gone - I still have most of my celebratory Bakka birthday buttons, although it looks like I've misplaced the B12 button that I think started the run, and my Silver Snail Club button is battered but still with me - but as far as I know, that's all that I still have, unless there's a bookmark or two hidden away in storage.
My hotel is conveniently only a block or so away from the Silver Snail's second-story Yonge Street location, so that's the first destination of the day.
The Silver Snail has stayed true to its roots over the years. Although there's a
small selection of toys, action figures and statuettes, along with a
token gaming section, the Snail is still predominately aimed at the
reader and collector, with bins of back issues, a wide selection of new
comics, and a full range of graphic novels.
I'm a bit bemused by the
addition of the
Black Canary coffee shop to the layout - I've previously
encountered a couple of
book stores that combined the two, but I do
wonder if that space might be better used for retail purposes. On the
other hand, I'm not a coffee drinker, for all I know it's quite popular,
although there are only a couple of patrons during my visit to the
store.
It's been years since I bought a single-issue comic book
(although graphic novels are still part of my Christmas list) but in a fit of nostalgia, I pick out a couple of comics, one new, one used.
My used selection is issue 7 of
OMAC, the One Man Army Corps,
a character created by Jack Kirby* for DC in 1974 - I find it
surprisingly affordable at $6.00.** (Like so many of the Kirby
characters, OMAC has periodically been revived by Kirby fans who went on
to work in the comics industry - the black-and-white John Byrne
miniseries from 1991 standing out as a particularly well done example,
although I'm not as sure about the blue-skinned 2011 version by Keith
Giffen.)
My new comic of choice is the first issue of an alternative
reality comic,
Tales From the Dark Multiverse. In its first storyline, it takes a look at what
might have happened when villain-turned hero Azrael took over the Dark
Knight's mantle after Bane broke the Batman's back in the 1993-1994
Knightfall saga. Given that I'm unlikely to start buying comic books
again, especially with my
Marvel Unlimited subscription, it seems
prudent to not engage with an ongoing series. (As a sidebar, both Marvel and DC have
produced a wide range of alternate history/timeline/dimension versions of
their characters, I suspect that it demonstrates a degree of franchise
fatigue on the part of the comic book creative community. After all, some of the
DC characters date back to the 1930s, and most of the Marvel universe has
been in existence for close to 60 years, that's a long time to keep
tilling the same ground, so to speak.)
From the Snail, I proceed to lunch at the Rivoli, a Queen Street institution since 1982, which is
located just one block away from the original locations of both Bakka and the
Snail. I'm a bit saddened to see that the previous Silver Snail
location is now just an empty lot, there isn't even a building left.
After lunch - I strongly recommend the Riv's pad thai - I head up Spadina Avenue towards the University of Toronto
and nearby Harbord Street, the latest location of Bakka Phoenix Books.
Even
after a sustained absence, it still feels a bit like coming home to walk
into Bakka. The new books are still racked up to the right of the
entrance, they still use little hand-written notes to indicate authors
and recommended books, and the selection remains comprehensive and well
curated - Bakka has always enjoyed staff members who were both
knowledgeable and dedicated in their interest, which is probably why the
store's alumni includes so many science fiction authors.
This is my
first visit to this location, and I'm pleased by the spacious layout and
the general setup of the store. To an even greater extent than the Silver
Snail, Bakka isn't interested in t-shirts or toys or other ancillary
merchandise - it's a bookstore, plain and simple.
As I browse the
shelves, I'm a bit astonished by the high percentage of trade
paperbacks*** - it's like I wasn’t paying attention and the
mass market paperback died while I was looking the other way. That
being said, they might as well be hardcovers, I was a little offended by
the opportunity to replace my battered old first edition of
Again,
Dangerous Visions with a $19.99 trade version.
I pick out four books (needless to say that three of them are trade
editions):
Made Things, one of the unpurchased books from
my 2019 Geekmas list, by Adrian Tchaikovsky
; Wasteland, by W. Scott Poole, a scholarly examination of the origins of modern horror in World War One, which struck me as an intriguing idea;
The Long and Short of It, a collection of time travel stories by Jodi Taylor; and a replacement paperback copy of
The Atrocity Archives, the first book in the outstanding Lovecraftian
Laundry series by Charles Stross. I haven't
catalogued the S part of my library yet, but I'm reasonably confident that my current copy is more than a bit the worse for wear. To finish my shopping, I take a fifth book from the SALE table -
Wild Fell, a horror novel by Michael Rowe. I'm not a big fan of horror, but I always liked
to make a random selection when shopping at Bakka, just to avoid getting
stuck in a rut.
Sadly, after I pay for my books, not only do I not
receive a bookmark, but my purchases go into a plain blue bag.
Apparently the days of the branded bag and bookmark have come and gone at
Bakka Books, along with so many other things from years gone by.
- Sid
* I really have to do a posting on Jack Kirby.
** It turns out to be a bit rumpled, but still in good shape. But how do you rumple a comic book?
***
In case you don't speak printing, trade paperbacks are paperbacks more
or less the size of hardcovers, whereas mass market paperbacks are 4x7
inches, give or take.
