I can’t rightly call it one of the my favorite bookstores, but only because favorite bookstores are developed through a history of repeated visits and memories of discoveries and encounters over time.
But it is a wonderful, wonderful place. It didn’t have everything I wanted (Mary McCarthy’s The Company She Keeps, for example), but a truly amazing selection. I bought:
Alexander Pope, Essay on Man and other Poems
William Carlos Williams, Spring and All (with a lovely rubbery, leathery powder blue cover that’s wonderful the the touch)
Ron Silliman, The Alphabet (which, so long as I am reading a book a week, will probably not be read this year, since it’s a 1000+ page difficult poem/poetic series)
Karl Marx, The Capital (it’s was a used, inexpensive, hardcover edition, the sort of thing one wants in one’s permanent library)
Nicholson Baker, The Anthologist