The Passive Voice linked to an article in the Bangkok Post about bookstores. For me it was very evocative.
I spent almost seven years in Thailand as a kid. I used to spend hours in the DK bookstore in Bangkok, one of the few English language bookstores at the time. It was probably not as large as I remember, but I think it was three or four stories tall, and I clearly recall where the science fiction could be found, on an upper floor toward the street side. It stocked British imprints, and I still have the Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert Heinleins I bought there, with the half-naked people on all the covers. It was always sunny and hot when I went there, and the store had a certain strange smell unlike other bookstores. I can’t describe it, but I’d recognize it if I came across it again ever. And, no, it wasn’t pot. That strange smell I finally identified when I went to college.
When we moved north to Chiang Mai, I would save my allowance and send it with my mother for a list of books I wanted her to get for me from the DK when my parent visited Bangkok. When I graduated from horse stories to science fiction and historical novels, I always needed more Heinlein and more Georgette Heyer.
I don’t recognize any of the names of the stores in the article, but I wonder if DK was a variation on or an Anglicization of Dokya.
I spent almost seven years in Thailand as a kid. I used to spend hours in the DK bookstore in Bangkok, one of the few English language bookstores at the time. It was probably not as large as I remember, but I think it was three or four stories tall, and I clearly recall where the science fiction could be found, on an upper floor toward the street side. It stocked British imprints, and I still have the Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert Heinleins I bought there, with the half-naked people on all the covers. It was always sunny and hot when I went there, and the store had a certain strange smell unlike other bookstores. I can’t describe it, but I’d recognize it if I came across it again ever. And, no, it wasn’t pot. That strange smell I finally identified when I went to college.
When we moved north to Chiang Mai, I would save my allowance and send it with my mother for a list of books I wanted her to get for me from the DK when my parent visited Bangkok. When I graduated from horse stories to science fiction and historical novels, I always needed more Heinlein and more Georgette Heyer.
I don’t recognize any of the names of the stores in the article, but I wonder if DK was a variation on or an Anglicization of Dokya.
Madeleines have nothing on the DK.