We all know that Aziraphale hates customers. But I submit that he LOVES grad students.
- if asked (by Crowley, solely to fluster his Angel) he will say that it’s completely reasonable to love people who want to study and discuss books? And that feeling he gets when they come and ask him for help isn’t Pride no. It just so happens that having lived for millennia means he’s the best primary source on the planet. It would be selfish to not share his knowledge really. Why shouldnt he feel good about helping young people learn? So it’s really only lowercase ‘pride’ at most…
- …I mean, it’s just harmless satisfaction that he is spreading knowledge like God intended. Err, probably intended. This knowledge isnt that Forbidden Knowledge so it’s fine, right? They’re way past that at this point. Surely there is no objection to knowing about books?
- if you were to ask Crowley, he will point out that grad students can’t afford to actually buy any books. But no one has ever asked him
- back when the shop first opened, poor Aziraphale was struggling with the realization that people might get suspicious if never lets anyone buy any of his books. And in walks in some poor, exhausted student from Kings or London University who has spent the last 10hrs looking in every bookstore and library around for an original copy of ‘The Tamer Tamed’. So they stumble in, turn to Aziraphale and ask if he has any 17th century editions of Fletcher’s work. They just need to look at it bc every copy they’ve found has been edited.
- does Aziraphale have a 17th century editions of Flecher’s ‘The Woman’s Prize, or The Tamer Tamed’? What an absurd question! He has the first edition, printed in 1647. Two copies in fact, one with notes in the margins written by an early actor that Aziraphale particularly liked. It was, after all, one of Crowley’s favorite plays from that period.
- (Crowley claims that he has nothing to do with the plays popularity when compared to the work it was in response to, ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. Yes, he preferred the feminist-leaning work by Fletcher, but it’s not his fault the audience agreed with him) [1]
- the look on this students face when Aziraphale sits them down at his desk and brings over this folio - full of relief and gratitude - have the angel feeling a bit chuffed. So much so that, as he’s closing the shop for the day, he tells them to come back tomorrow if they need another look. And thus one of the great student pilgrimages of London is born
- at the beginning of each term, new students make their way to this strange, magical bookstore run by a nice, possibly-immortal man. Group visits are discouraged, as they seem to make the owner nervous.
- fellow students (and sometimes professors) warn newcomers that the owner doesn’t actually want people to buy any books. But if go and tell him that you just want to look at them for a class, he will let you come and look around.
- actually, browsing isn’t recommended: depending on his mood, Mr. Fell (the owner) may encourage you to look around or he may decide to suddenly close early, or find some way to get you out the door. It’s always safest to ask Mr. Fell for something specific, the more obscure the better: he likes it when he has the exact thing you’re looking for
- there are snakes in the shelves - well, one snake, probably. Just like Mr. Fell, this snake has been hiding in the shelves since the store opened and never ages. It loves to jump out and scare customer, but is generally considered harmless unless you damage or mistreat the books. There are numerous accounts of people being bitten for dog-earing pages, putting cups on books, and general rudeness.
note: do not refer to the snake as Mr. Fell’s pet. He tends to get rather indignant if you do (Mr. Fell, not the snake. If anything, you would think the snake finds Mr. Fell’s reaction amusing) Think of it as his slightly terrifying roommate who occasionally hides in the shelves or curls up by/on Mr. Fell to nap
- A. Z Fell & Co had the world’s least comprehensible business hours. He could be closed for days or weeks at a time, then open 24hrs for a month without explanation. Often, he would open at 4 or 5AM then close around lunch, then open again after he finished lunch (anywhere between 1 and 4PM). There was one 11 year span when the shop was almost always closed - university’s saw a drop in grades in several departments until it finally opened again. If he recognizes you, sometimes you will arrive to find the store closed, only for him to suddenly open the door and let you in because he was “just about to open up”.
- Mr. Fell can easily be bribed when someone needs to stay after closing or come in early the next day. Down the block and across the street is a bakery: it has had many names over the years, but it has been supplying students with bribes in the form of cream puffs, eclairs, Turkish delights, and other sweet treats since the bookstore opened. Students scrambling before a deadline got 10 cents off their purchase.
- while he never seems to know what day it is, or what year it is (see: immortal), he always remembers when it’s time for exams because suddenly the shop is open at all hours, and Mr. Fell “just so happens” to have trays of sandwiches and fruit leftover, and wouldn’t they help him finish it? It’ll spoil, after all. Outside food and drinks are never allowed but suddenly there are little plates and napkins on a table by the door, and stacks of strange coasters from all over the world. Coffee is not allowed but tea is. Of course, everyone knows that Mr. Fell makes the BEST hot cocoa and if you put a coaster next to you, he will bring you a mug of cocoa, always at the perfect temperature.
- as revisions comes to a close, you will find almost a dozen students at Fell & Co. They will be slumped at a desk or curled up on the floor by the windows, cups of cooling cocoa and plates of healthy snacks left in places where they couldn’t spill onto the books. Colorful blankets come out of a back room as Mr. Fell tidies up, smiling fondly as he drapes them over the slumbering students
- there are stories of people whose old, cruddy laptops seem to work better in the bookshop. People listening to music (quietly, of course) may notice that the songs that come up on shuffle are always exactly what they wanted to hear. Notes you could have sworn you left at home or lost show up at the bottom of your bookbag. Documents you should have lost when your computer crashed can be recovered. One Martin Pryce insists that in 2014, he brought his broken bike to the store and when he came out again, it was fixed. He actually went up to Mr. Fell as he closed shop and asked him about it but Mr. Fell insisted he had nothing to do with it. Martin says Mr. Fell sounded like he was telling the truth, but looked very pleased and muttered something about it being a “minor miracle”, which is a bit much for a bike.
- if there are a thousand stories about Mr. Fell and his bookshop, there are just as many about the man in the fancy black car who comes around sometimes. Many have speculated on the nature of the men’s relationship, ranging from torrid love affairs to blackmail to Dickensian-level family drama. But the only thing you really need to know is that when you see that fancy black car parked by the shop, you best just to home. The store is most definitely closed.
1. One account survives of the audiences reactions to the two plays. ‘Shrew’ was performed first and was “liked”. ‘Tamed Tamed’ was performed after and it was “very well liked”. Whether or not this account is from Crawley is impossible to say.
germansingergirl
vaporwave
2087
