City's oldest independent bookstore still committed to open exchange of ideas, despite financial troubles

Owner of Philadelphia's oldest independent bookstore will never stop trying to keep the flow of communication and ideas open.

It could easily be missed: a single glass door with orange and white letters at eye-level, competing with sky-level neighbors. It's difficult to make out the small white paper that reads, "We Are Open Come On Up!"

A narrow stairwell leads to a door on the right that leads into a room with a creaky wood floor. This is definitely not Borders. On the second floor of this Philadelphia establishment, Robin's Books is on one side, Moonstone Arts Center on the other.

Robin's Books is the oldest independent bookstore in Philadelphia, and its proprietor, Larry Robin, is the grandson of the man who first opened the doors in 1936.

"My kids won't work for the amount of money I make," said Larry Robin, the owner of the store. As he chuckled, his mouth's opening was partially concealed by a few stray whiskers from his unruly, white mustache and beard, which eventually connect to a similar puff of white hair, which surrounds his head like a Christmas wreath.

Though Robin says the book business was never booming, things weren't always so second-floor-dwelling. In its 73-year run, Robin's Bookstore has had its "jumpin'" moments, although business is slowing as the competition grows, especially on the internet. However, Robin says he'll continue finding new ways to keep the language and ideas flowing until he dies.

"They want the sound-bite answer, and I'm giving them 300 years of history, because you're not going to understand it without understanding what the history is. And everyone would get frustrated."

-Larry Robin

Robin doesn't remember much about the days when his grandfather ran Robin's Bookstore. He does remember his father's job in the early days of the business: to pull usable magazines from the paper scrap yard's trash, then bring them back to sell. Robin's still sells discounted magazines today.

In 1960, when he was just out of high school, Robin began working the night shift at the store from 6 to midnight, while he simultaneously studied as a sculptor's apprentice. The family business gave him the ability to come and go as he pleased. Robin says around this time, the paperback explosion was just happening, so he took over his own, new department. He could order the books he wanted-poetry, progressive politics magazines, and civil rights books-and soon came to recognize that working at the bookstore allowed him the freedom to feed all his interests at once.

In those days, there were about 20 bookstores in downtown Philadelphia. Each one had its own personality, reflecting its owner's interests, according to Robin. People who were interested in books would travel from store to store, checking out the various niches. Robin smiles, as he says that every one had its own bestsellers. These books were what would support the ability to carry the books that never sold but really interested you.

When Robin's was located at 13th and Filbert, all the New Jersey transit busses would stop at the corner. This traffic, along with all-night theatres and restaurants, contributed to an atmosphere that provided the bookstore around three times the business it does today. People who were interested in Robin's niches would come. But eventually, there weren't enough of them to support the business. That change, along with the arrival of discounters that took over Robin's and other stores' bestseller sales, and increased Web sales, led to the decision to close in November of 2008. The closing sale concluded in January of 2009.

But Robin's wasn't done yet. By moving to the second floor on 13th and Sansom, Robin cut his expenses by two-thirds, and although the store could not be sustained without the first floor's rental, it existed. Renting the space below has given Robin enough income to work on renovations, starting with a new roof.

"When I was in college I made it a point to never work for a corporation. I like to know my boss; I like to be able to talk to my boss, and not just be counted as a faceless number."

-Nebadon Adams, cashier for six years at Robin's

Robin says, despite the store's current online sales-which only provide a "trickle" of the business-he doesn't know how to appeal to the younger, Web-prone consumers. To him, though, the experience of shopping in-store is more valuable and offers a greater sense of community than online shopping experiences do.

When asked about so-called online communities, or customer reviews on online retail giant Amazon's site, Robin stops tapping his right fist on the arm of his chair. He calls Web sites' suggestions for similar reading "mechanical.

"You need to go to people where they are," said Robin. "But, if you're dealing with any level of education, you need to help move them. You never walked in the store and saw the thing you didn't know you were interested in."

Robin says that's where he comes in. He talks about how the in-store book seller can lead people, directing them to better literature, perhaps by placing a lesser-known, but more skilled writer's work next to a bestseller. A similar dynamic can happen just from having a conversation with someone in the store, who has picked up a different author than you. This atmosphere is something that cannot be matched online, according to Robin.

When asked about Google's Library Books Project-they hope to create a "virtual card catalog of all books in all languages"-Robin says he worries about the possibility of one major power controlling the world's books. Already, he fears economics are infringing upon what gets published too much, something he calls "censorship by economics."

He doesn't want to destroy technology, though, and realizes it's good to save money by doing things like putting used books online instead of selling them back to a used bookstore, however injurious to retail it may be. These days, Robin is pursuing a different direction, facilitating communication and community.