“We announced with a heavy heart that the 14-year-old Beijing bookworm was forced to close down at No. 4 South Sanlitun Road.” 2019 On November 5th, an old bookworm bookstore, one of the top ten bookstores in the world, issued an announcement. During the period before the completion of the business, the story of the old bookworm was constantly written. As an ordinary guest, the author also wanted to record this wonderful farewell. All “tonight” in the text refers to the evening of November 17, with the pictures taken by the author.
This is a “happy mourning”.
The night is heavy. In Beijing’s gale yellow warning and cold wave blue warning, the wind blew the leaves and hit the window, and it was thought to be the ice particles falling from the cold wave.
The old bookworm bookstore is still lit, she lit up the red lanterns and sang the last grand song for the farewell tonight.
The iconic literary staircase of the old bookworms came and went. These wooden boards with literary works and writer names were squeaky. Some people smoked on the steps; some people got out of the taxi and hurried up; the people who left were taking the last photo of the old bookworm downstairs, and the wind blew their hands a little. The phase is a warm color that faints.
Go up the stairs and push open the glass door. With the warming of the face, there is a buzzing voice, and the hall is full.
The gap between the long table and the long table was filled with people standing and sitting. Everyone was excited and laughed loudly. From time to time, they watched the broadcast on the big screen. There was a band in the performance hall. The waiter at the bar tried to get his voice to go to his colleagues: “The cup is not enough. Just pick up a few and come back, what cups will do!” In the bathroom, the two Arab girls laughed and filled their lipsticks. The strangers gathered in front of the bookcase to take a selfie, and the air was filled with a pleasant scent of red wine. Like the old bookworm general manager David Cantalupo, this is an uncompromising “like mourning.”
Every old bookworm’s photos are similar, inevitably having a red lantern that hangs high on the roof. A few days ago, the WeChat public account of the old bookworm bookstore predicted the farewell tonight. On the poster, it was the same music and jubilant, the same red lantern.
The old bookworm was originally scheduled to be officially closed on November 11. On the evening of the 10th, there was a four-hour talk show, and a large display was hung in the hall next to the curtain to broadcast the performance.
At the end of the performance, the audience had already passed the zero point. The audience shouted jokingly: “Happy New Year!” The customers who watched the broadcast in the hall also toasted, and they were intertwined at the same time. The audience and the actors rushed out of the performance hall and went to the lobby to have a drink and chat. The host and the host of the talk show’s humorous community, Tony, ordered the pizza to invite the actors to eat.
I was sitting at the bar, and my ears were a lot of busy social networking, looking up at the big screen. There was no one in the performance hall, and it was exceptionally cool under the shackles of the roof in the first four hours.
Suddenly, Tony walked into the camera alone. There is an empty row of chairs next to the brand of the humorous community. He sits on one of them and asks someone to take a picture for him. The humorous community is about to end in the six-year journey of the old bookworm. Tony looked at the camera lens better than a wink, with a childlike mischief on his face. Under the smile, it is a reluctance.
Last night, on the same big screen, after the performance, there was no one left. David walked into the performance hall alone and began to move the tables and chairs and take away the used cups. Earlier, when he received tens of thousands of violent greetings from customers, he couldn’t help but adjust the position of some books on the stand. Until the last night, he still wanted to be a qualified owner.
The adjusted booth has been completely renewed and filled with all kinds of good books. The crowd is moving, just as lively as the Central European Literature Festival held here in May. If it is not the discounted information on the top of the bookshelf, the bookshelf has obvious gaps. I even think that this is the opening of a new bookstore, not the end.
A few weeks ago, when I was chatting with David, he recognized that I was a half-baked customer.
Last week, I asked him if he still remembers me. He is sorry to answer. I have seen too many faces recently and I can’t remember. That day I heard him anger at the end of the phone. “Why can’t this simple thing be done? I really don’t have time. I hang up first.” His face was angry and helpless.
On November 5th, when the old bookworm announced the closing of the store, it was only 6 days away from the closing day of the 11th. Under the hard struggle of David, the old bookworm got another breather, dragging the closing day to the 17th. This extra few days, compared with the complicated affairs he faced, is a drop in the bucket. He is too busy.
Train presentations, farewell dances, calligraphy appreciation, tea parties, classical music appreciation, answering events, debates… Even in the last week, David also ranked every night. Full of wants, like wanting to give the guests a perfect spiritual feast.
Tonight, I once again introduced myself to the reporter who had an appointment with him. He responded for a while and asked if I was from TVB. My customer identity can be remembered by him, and the identity of the reporter is extremely vague for him.
I later learned that dozens of journalists from all over the world wanted to write old bookworms. He has seen too many reporters and refused to accept too many interviews. There are cameras and reporters here, and a hunting of the old bookworms.
“Next week, next week.” After finishing this sentence, he looked into the crowded hall, and fell into a short silence. I pointed out that he looked very tired, and he gratefully looked at me, gently revealing a smile.
After the night of the carnival, the old bookworm will begin to empty. David made a promise to completely evacuate before the end of the month. The old bookworm in the hearts of the customers will be closed tonight, and the farewell of David and the old bookworm has just begun.
Suddenly, a British customer strode forward to us and embraced David. At the moment he approached, the exhaustion on David’s face instantly receded, and he put on a cool smile, like a new spirited guy. He will always embrace the guests who love the old bookworm in the best state.
“Thank you for the amazing night.” The guest said in the ear of David.
“Thank you for heLping out.” Just two sentences, the tone is deep, as if the two veterans of life and death shared goodbye after the war.
After bidding farewell to the guest, David took the unseen beer and walked down the narrow stairs to the terrace of the old bookworm. This is a place of self-stay in the hearts of many customers. Here you can watch the stars, open a party, beer barbecue, and be very comfortable.
Tonight, the wind is so strong, it is dark, and a string of lights that are not lit are blown around the beam, like a wilderness. A long-haired boy stood on a square-shaped cross-iron shelf with a blanket and recited the “Howling” of Alan Kingsburg.
“I saw that the most outstanding mind of this generation was ruined by madness/Hungry hysterical nakedness and dragging myself through the dawn…” In his heated statement, his long hair was rolled up by the wind, like a side. High banner.
Afterwards, the long-haired boy returned to the hall, and a tall man dressed up caught up. The tall man is a photographer and curator who is preparing for a large-scale photo exhibition to deconstruct the portrait and the meaning behind it. He was deeply attracted by the performance of the long-haired boy on the terrace. He wanted to invite him to participate in his project. “It is not that poem, it is the feeling of reading poetry. It is great.”
Another team that is filming a documentary has taken all of this. A scene is set, the poetry is followed by the curator, and the curator’s invitation is recorded by the camera. Behind the huge camera and radio equipment, an Italian man drinking coffee said: It’s really an artist.”
He is a writer living in China. He opened a new book conference in the old bookworm many years ago. His book is still on the bookshelf of the old bookworm. Five minutes ago, he was just recognized by a London reader and eagerly talked for a long time. For many years, the old bookworm has been the favorite place in the heart of this Italian writer. Only here, you can meet interesting people at any time.
This is true, the announcement of the closure of the storeIn the past, the old bookworm once thanked “numerous writers, publishers, intellectuals, decision makers, artists, musicians, poets, stage performers, comedians, business leaders, and each of us who have had the privilege of meeting and collaborating. Embassies, international and local cultural organizations.” Most of the customers who came to the store were lying.
The Italian writer didn’t have dinner. I suggested that he go to the bar to try the order. He went around and regretted telling me that there were too many people, too late, and the kitchen couldn’t make any more meals. But he still does not want to leave, even if he is hungry, he wants to accompany the old bookworm to the last moment.
Until the hour hand goes to eleven o’clock in the evening, the talent in the hall is slightly reduced. The Italian writer said to me: “There were too many people before, and now it is just right, more like the usual look here.”
At the same time, the performance hall was full of fun.
A spirited old man took a small speaker to the stage and sang Liu Bannong’s poem “Teach me how to not want her”. The voice is mellow and affectionate. Qu Bi, the bottom of the cheers. The old man bowed slightly to everyone and smiled awkwardly. Hearing the person next to him said that the old man often sang to the old bookworm and has been going on for several years.
A man in a black down jacket sat in front of the piano, and a few curls of oil were placed in front of his forehead, his back slightly squatting, like a retracted snail, looking less confident. But the shot was loud and the piano was full of enthusiasm. He said that he was a programmer, and occasionally played to his colleagues. No one knew what the song was, but here, many people shouted the name of the song, and he was very happy.
A week ago, he just learned about the old bookworm, and at the same time, it was the old bookworm that was closing. He stood by the piano and gently landed on the piano. He said to everyone, it is so nice, it is very warmly arranged, and more importantly, there is a piano. “I like it here.”
“One more!” The old man who just sang shouted under the stage, “No one sleeps tonight.”
The programmer played the Bedo for everyone.Fen’s “Destiny.” Qu Bi, applause thunder, he stood up and thanked everyone, a sly, fell to the keys, “bang”, the piano sent a mournful chorus.
Basically Beethoven, this is the classic part of the old bookworm. Anyone can go to the stage to sing and play the instrument as long as they like. At night, the audience politely left only between the song and the song, giving the final applause to the old bookworm.
The Italian writer came to say goodbye to me when I walked out of the performance hall. He said that the kitchen finally gave him a roast chicken. After eating the “old roast chicken of the old bookworm”, he thought it was time to leave. He tied the scarf, pushed open the glass door, and disappeared into the cold wind.
The crowd gradually dissipated, and the glass doors that were frequently pushed open and swayed, reflecting different lights and pictures, and the colors changed, like a shaking lamp.
The long-haired boy learned a C’est la vie from a French customer and said one night. This is the meaning of “this is life” in French. This is life, there are farewells and reunions, this is life, there is no ordinary thing, you never know what a future is foreseeing.
Before pushing the glass door, the long-haired boy opened his arms and bowed to the warm night, completing a grand curtain call. He sang Que sera sera (naturally, the world can’t be forced), jumped down the stairs, like a flying bird.
The second layer of the literary steps he has stepped on, the title of Ulysses. The production of this stream of consciousness novels was obstructed, and was finally published in 1922 by the Shakespeare Bookstore in Paris.
Many people say that the old bookworm is the Shakespeare bookstore in China, the Chelsea hotel in China. As a platform for cultural exchanges between China and the West, the organization of literary and artistic activities, the old bookworm has taken on the ardent expectations of everyone.
About the closure of the old bookworm, there are many speculations, but for whatever reason, mostIn the end, Beijing has lost a bookstore that everyone likes.
Tonight, the old bookworm does not need to have a name. She unloaded all the names and returned to an ordinary bookstore, bar. Tonight we don’t have to have a name. In such a paradise that is about to disappear, no one will be entangled in the world and tomorrow. Tonight we are just a passer-by, and tonight we only laugh and laugh.
In the early hours of the morning, I walked out of the old bookworm and looked back in the cold wind. The tall roof was still lit with red lanterns.