Among high mountains and pristine lakes, pastoral meadows with grazing sheep, knightly castles and protected heather fields, in the vastness of a country celebrated by Robert Burns and Walter Scott, there lies a small town with a rural biography. This town is home to Scotland's largest bookshop, owned by a man with a complex character.
He sells primarily old books, from the most common to rare and antique, and likes to call himself a misanthrope, since his customers, let's face it, are often capricious and provocative. A modern-day Luddite, Sean Bythell has demonstrably shot down the Kindle and has long spoken out against the dominance of online technology (and, by extension, anything impersonal and cookie-cutter). But a misanthrope? No misanthrope could have such a keen sense of psychology, humor, nature, and beauty, have so many friends as Sean Bythell, actively participate in the city's cultural life—the Wigtown Book Festival and other important events—and be, contrary to all the jokes about the stinginess of the Scots, generous and magnanimous.
In his ironic, witty, sometimes deliberately frank, but undoubtedly talented narrative, everyone will find something for themselves—someone will be interested in the everyday life of a bookshop, someone will hear the call to visit Scotland, someone will want to read this or that magnificent book following the thinking and feeling author. And, of course, everyone will be glad to meet again with the old heroes from 'The Diary of a Bookseller' or meet new ones.
