Imagine what it would be like to be a bookseller. People seem to do that a lot. The dream tends to drift toward endless hours set aside for reading in a quaint bookshop, nestled among the tidy stacks; or engaging in bookish chats with well-read customers. Oh, and there must be the requisite bookshop cat (or dog) napping peacefully nearby.
For those of us who are, or once were, booksellers, the fantasy is both understandable and amusing. After all, we succumbed to the siren song ourselves at some point, and it's nice to see the dream retain its hold on readers' imaginations in these cynical times. Does anybody fantasize the same way about opening an online bookstore? Where would the cat avatar sleep?
Earlier this week, I noticed this Facebook post from Dolly's Bookstore, Park City, Utah: "Dolly loves to read too (especially books about cats like her)! Come stop by today to read with Dolly or help find you your next book!"
The book was open, but Dolly was literally catnapping, a word that was apparently coined in the early 19th century and has an exquisitely simple etymology: "from cat + nap."
Bookseller cats deserve their naps. They have responsibilities and stresses, like New Title Tuesday at E. Shaver Bookseller, Savannah, Ga.; or post-holiday back-to work challenges at Let's Play Books Bookstore, Emmaus, Pa. ("Bernie's best impression of a scary monster! Bye bye Halloween--it was fun! Time to SHOP!!!"); or, in the case of Mr. Bingley, "soaking up some sun" while on patrol at the Haunted Book Shop, Mobile, Ala.
I've been gradually learning how to catnap since the Covid era began and am better at it than I used to be. Working from a home office affords more opportunities than being on a sales floor would, though George Costanza (Jason Alexander) solved the problem creatively in a Seinfeld episode where he also said, "I love a good nap. Sometimes it's the only thing getting me out of bed in the morning."
A few years ago, Fast Company featured what it called "the next logical step after standing desks: the nap desk." (George wasn't credited for the inspiration.) "The main concept came after I saw my classmates put chairs together in order to have a power nap while they were struggling between deadlines," said designer Athanasia Leivaditou. "Then I wanted to comment on the fact that many times our lives are 'shrinking' in order to fit into the confined space of our office."
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| Molly & Maisie, assistants to the columnist | |
I hate the phrase "power nap," and I'm still a mere apprentice in the art of catnapping, but fortunately I have two excellent in-house sleep gurus, Molly and Maisie. They're naturals.
I guess I'm more adept at the sports nap. As Jason Gay once wrote in his Wall Street Journal column (headlined "My Column Puts People to Sleep--A discussion of a beloved sports ritual: dozing off in the middle of the action"): "I think we can all agree that golf is probably the sports nap summit. Golf has it all, really: It's long, it's quiet, there are a lot of khakis, and its announcers are trained to whisper softly, like they're holding an infant. After a while, you, too, feel as if you're back in your childhood crib, listening to Mom or Dad read Make Way for Ducklings. Golf is basically tryptophan, and the only thing standing between you and a solid 40 of Zzzzs is an eagle chip and a burst of crowd noise, or a loud commercial for an oversized pickup truck."
Bookish catnaps have their consequences, of course. Some are mild. I was waiting at the dealership this week to have my car serviced. Despite the implicit promise of excitement that new cars on display are meant to project, dealership waiting rooms are also "basically tryptophan." As I listened to my audiobook (title redacted so no authors are harmed by this column), I dozed off, then woke suddenly, disoriented. Where was I? How long had I been out? A chapter? Who knows?
But my experience pales beside others in book world. Consider what befalls Lewis Carroll's Alice when she begins "to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do.... So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her."
Beware the Cheshire catnap, Alice!
Then there's Washington Irving's Rip Van Winkle: "He even ventured, when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found had much of the flavor of excellent Hollands. He was naturally a thirsty soul, and was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked another; and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so often that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, his head gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep." Twenty years later...
"All life is a nap. The more naps you take the better," Ralph Waldo Emerson advised. So take a page from Mouse the cat at Cupboard Maker Books, Enola, Pa.: "Baby Mouse Monday. Our fluffy little hero has always been an accomplished napper, yawner, and sleeper."