‘I see bookstores as citadels of life. They civilize neighborhoods,’ the American author John Updike once told a group of readers and writers. ‘My local bookshop brightens my life and the whole street it’s on’. 
Berlin is blessed with a bounty of fine bookshops: Dussmann, Hugendubel, Lehmanns and above all Marga Schoeller’s, a venerable Berlin establishment which opened back in 1929 and boasted W. H. Auden, Samuel Beckett, T. S. Eliot, Hermann Hesse and Thomas Mann among its guests and customers. These German stores have good (excellent in the case of Schoeller’s) foreign sections. But for readers who want to lose themselves in English language literature alone, the city offers five or six specialist outlets.
In Kreuzberg Another Country sells and loans second-hand books as well as runs a film club. With its 10,000 used books and chesterfield sofas, Saint Georges in Prenzlauer Berg is especially welcoming, as is East of Eden in Friedrichshain. Charlottenburg’s Books in Berlin specialises in American writing and produces a thoughtful newsletter (although sometimes their monthly picks get a little scrambled).
Earlier this year a young, energetic Londoner, Sharmaine Reid entered the field with Dialogue Berlin.
‘The shop is called Dialogue as I want to engage interested people in the art of conversation and debate,’ Sharmaine told me earlier this week.
For her Berlin has ‘the perfect ingredients. It’s an historically fascinating city that is vibrant, culturally-aware and full of interesting regeneration opportunities. It’s not commercially-consumed, and is reflective and very different to London. The other important point for me is that I can offer my skills and experience to Berlin and open something that is not already here --the city’s only English-language bookshop to specialise in new books.’
Sharmaine first visited a bookshop alone when she was eight years old. When the bookseller handed her the latest Roald Dahl in its brown paper bag she knew that she’d found her calling. While still at school she found part-time work in an independent bookshop near her home in Battersea. Then, at the same time as studying for her degree, she worked at the second-hand bookstalls under Waterloo Bridge. She moved on to Foyles, London’s oldest bookshop, then Waterstone’s in Leadenhall Market and finally the London Review Bookshop.
‘Although Foyles is a wonderful bookshop, it was too big for me,’ she said. ‘I wanted to work in a smaller shop where my skills could shine. I fell in love with the selection and the atmosphere at the London Review Bookshop. For me it’s the best bookshop in London.’
Dialogue Berlin occupies a small living room at the back of the T Room Café in Prenzlauer Berg. Its compact size enables Sharmaine to offer her customers personal attention, while browsing the shelves and through her Book Doctor service, with guidance on holidays reads, one-to-one consultation and even advice on building a library.
‘I always wanted a bookshop with a café, where the café was a focal point of the shop and the bookshop was a ‘boutique’ shop,’ she told me. ‘It was hard to find a place in the right location and I went to the T Room by chance and got chatting about my plans to open a bookshop. Everything came into place from there.’
Dialogue Berlin aims to introduce readers to new and dynamic English-language writing, as well as English and German classics, and stimulate a ‘conversation’ that goes beyond the books themselves.
‘For me books are the key to other worlds and other people. Stories can transform people’s perceptions and understanding of a variety of subjects. I think that today, as we are shifting to different forms of communication and pace of life, reading is imperative to keep us grounded and open minded.’
‘Booksellers, defend your lonely forts,’ said John Updike. ‘Keep your edges dry. Your edges are our edges. For some of us, books are intrinsic to our human identity.’
Sharmaine Reid is is helping Berlin's English-speaking readers and writers to define themselves with her citadels of life.






I know that's tantamount to heresy for some. But there you have it.
As a writer and customer there exists little else but a list of diminishing returns where this mainly mythological idea lingers.
As a writer without a trust fund, the simple fact is that bookstores are unable to pay me with any degree of efficiency; no fault of their own, it's just the way things are in the analog world.
ITunes, Amazon? Every click makes me money.
As far as the legendary helpful bookseller I'm sad to report that not once in my life has a bookseller guided me to a new purchase (of course, this is New York...)
Online, I am constantly exposed and excited by endless choices and endless new avenues of expression. Because of the nonexistence of rent and other analog costs, books cost far, far less, and so I'm more inclined to try out titles I would have passed on in the past.
Which leads to the ultimate case against the analog store: because of the aforementioned, my book buying has tripled. And the writers of those books have a new customer.
Analog may have been sweet for some but on every level, digital is simply better, more profitable, and holds out infinite new hopes for authors who had none in the analog realm.
Best regards,
Ian Grey