In 1971—long before we could all fit 1,000 books in our pockets, before browsing titles became a matter of algorithms rather than thumbing pages—a motley used bookstore opened in Portland.
Today Powell's City of Books spans an entire block in the city’s Northwest quadrant, a temple of print so vast that visitors find their way around via fold-up maps (free souvenir alert) and giant directory boards that resemble the arrivals-and-departures signage at the airport. Miriam Sontz, the company’s CEO, likes to say that Powell's is a visceral experience: “Take the bookstore in your brain and multiply it by 10—then you’re close.”
The best way to visit Powell’s is with lots of time and no agenda whatsoever. While used, new, hardcover, and paperback volumes commingle on the shelves, a system of color-coded rooms and clearly labeled aisles directs browsers in a most orderly fashion. If you’re into vintage cookbooks, 16th-century British history, or frothy celebrity memoirs, there’s an aisle with a mind-boggling number of volumes waiting for you. Landing a job here is competitive, even for the most devoted bookworms; if you're not sure what to read next, the "staff pick" tags with hand-written recommendations are always solid bets.
About half of the books on Powell’s shelves are used, most in very good condition. Loading up on used volumes with friendly prices, then struggling home with a weighty book-filled suitcase, has become somewhat of a tradition for Portland visitors. In an era where many readers have a Kindle or Nook on the nightstand, Powell’s is proof that readers still yearn on some level for what Sontz calls “paper between boards.” The bookstore sees 8,000 visitors a day, she says, attending young adult story times and author events, purchasing paperbacks, or just plopping down in an aisle to read for a bit. “It’s all about growing a reading culture.”
Must-Visits
The newly remodeled Green Room, where you enter from Burnside Avenue, offers a bit of everything from around the store, and Powell’s merch like T-shirts and water bottles that list the elements of good literature. If the rare book room on the third floor is open, it’s worth a visit to see the hushed temple of first editions and 17th-century collectibles. Overwhelmed? Retreat to the coffee shop (in what’s aptly named the Coffee Room) to get your bearings.
