George Bayntun
Manvers Street, Bath
I have perhaps
left the greatest bookshop in Bath – in my opinion – till last. I should
mention here that I purposely avoided Good Buy Books in my dedication because I
rarely went in there. But, here is a small dedication now, recognising it as
one of the many bookshops in Bath, which is worth a dedication itself: Good Buy
Books is good for your cheap, new books: the kind of books found in
supermarkets, The Works and bookshops like Parkside Books. With less emphasis
on trains.
This dedication
will come in two parts, as the bookshop I will talk about is also an impressive
and historical bindery, of which I had the privilege to visit last year.
George Bayntun
lies not far from Bath Spa train station, opposite the eastern entrance to
Debenhams. It is housed in a building that is fronted by Gothic arches: along
this road it is probably to most impressive building. Like the majority of
Bath, a lot of George Bayntun lies underground, and from the pavement a
passer-by is able to see windows below their feet and within, stacks and stacks
of books. Climb steps and ring a bell: be buzzed in: welcome to George Bayntun.
*
A step back in
time.
Sitting in
museum stillness on dark wooden floors, books mutter and live. They are the
books that live in glass cases that are as old as themselves. They certainly
know their worth: they shine in the sunlight through the windows, the gilt on
their leather proudly polished.
Here can be
found the most ordinary book in an extraordinary guise. Alice in Wonderland sits proudly on her own shelf, beautiful green
leather making her figure of gold stand out. Beside her, like a personal body
guard, the price: £3000.
But it was not
always so. It is likely that she once was dishevelled, her shine dull and her
words faded. This is a book of restoration: she has had quite a spectacular
makeover.
 |
| Entrance |
Her companions
are just as grand, even the smaller, rougher volumes, presented as they are in
their abundance. Some have managed to keep their complexion for a hundred years
without needing an Alice-degree makeover.
Dark wooden
counters support piles of complimentary literature, shining brochures
containing glamorous photographs of the inhabitants of the shelves. A guest
book – in-house bound, of course – contains the dedications of the visitors of
the books.
There are other
things residing in the room, under and over counters: divine, bookish wrapping
paper – several sheets of which are adorning my walls – stationary,
book-related advertisements and a recent tenant: a small selection of
bookbinding equipment: scraps of leather waiting to be re-homed and specialist
glue.
 |
| Looking around the first floor |
The books
whisper from glass, glinting luxuriantly in the daylight.
*
Through a small
green door you are introduced to fantastic curving steps, worn into shape by
many feet. What is encountered at the bottom of those stairs is completely
different to what lays above. Books stream on shelves from the doorway, books
of all different shapes and sizes and all of them very definitely second hand
and delightfully affordable, without losing touch with its worth in publication
history.
The second-hand
basement is a cavern of wonderful delights, holding books that are mainly over
fifty years old and very special: various and intriguing. Real treasures can be
found upon the shelves and several have made their way to the Isle of Wight.
 |
| General fiction in the second-hand basement |
I owe three of
my growing Andrew Lang collection to George Bayntun: The Blue Poetry Book (1891) The
True Story Book (1893) and The Red
True Story Book (1895). They are all first editions are beautiful enough
(in my eyes – relatively simple bindings but still) to make a bibliophile
swoon. Their smell reminds me of rainy days and old paper – delightful, to my
nostrils. Including fantastic prints by H.J. Ford and Lancelot Speed, they are
positively charming books, depicting on their covers a great war banner, a
pirate saluting to a ship int he moonlight, and a man strumming a lyre to an
audience of animals. My editions are scruffy, most likely from too many eager
hands fingering them off the shelves. Their gilt fore-edges still shine, and
their pages promise great escapes.
 |
| Literary criticism, music and jouranls |
There are not
only late Victorian books to savour – tucked underneath the staircase are more
modern paperbacks, in the kind of quality you would expect to find in a charity
shop. These may be first editions, I am not sure. Further within the basement
Folio Society editions of books can be found, as well as more general fiction,
and even a ‘£2 or less’ shelf which holds many obscure, commonly printed
volumes.
The second-hand
basement holds a great number of delights and covers nearly all subjects,
though it does dedicate several stacks to children’s books from the 1900s with
fantastically illustrated covers.
Perhaps the most
fascinating shelves in the second-hand basement holds books most people would
throw away: these are the most crumbly of books, missing covers and revealing binding
secrets. These books have obviously been rejected from the bindery and are
mostly over one hundred years old – sad, dilapidated books that want to be
loved again, perhaps by a budding bookbinder or restorer looking for some
practice. Alas, I never plucked up the courage to re-home one myself.
 |
| Crumblers |
George Bayntun
spans thee floors including the basement and the upper-most floor is like
stepping into a museum – small rooms and offices crammed along a short corridor
that leads to a room that wouldn’t look out of place in a 1930s building. It
includes a vast green-leather topped desk, complete with ancient telephone and
ledger, a sofa behind. This is truly the antiquary room and I can imagine quite
easily bibliophiles discussing their purchases.
Of course the
room does not lack glass-covered shelves, holding a selection of specialist
antiquary books. I picked up from here Rob Shepherd’s Handmade Books, which I am currently making my way through for my binding
projects.
George Bayntun
provides books for everybody. Do not be put off by the bell you have to ring to
gain entry. Rather realise that when the buzzer sounds, you step back in time:
a time where books were respected and prolific. Bayntun caters for many tastes
and is truly a dedication to old fashioned bookshops.
I miss visiting!
To be continued...
