Zenith Books. Duluth
Ah, Duluth. One of the most confounding cities I have ever known — equal parts rust belt industrial grit and magical child of Lake Superior, the most brooding, most changeable, most spiritually powerful of the great lakes. People compare Lake Superior to the ocean, but it is actually a completely different beast. The ocean has moods, Superior has a personality. And that personality is one of a wild animal.
Today the animal is benign — shimmering waters gently rolling beneath cerulean blue skies. A joy to be in its presence, overwhelmed by its vast embracing calm.
Zenith, the bookstore where I am reading, sits at the lower tip of Superior in the industrial end of Duluth, a part of town that is trying to cast off its ground-in history of mining poverty and sailor bars to become a place of life and energy and youthful hope. With the help of establishments like Zenith, it stands a good chance.
I love bookstores like Zenith. They have such interesting characters and personalities. Zenith has a delightful fierceness about it. Gritty on the outside, it is beautiful inside, with shiny pine shelves and a well-curated collection of titles tastefully displayed. It’s almost like a guerilla establishment, fighting its battles from behind an unassuming exterior, and winning them one by one. It stands as a model for the other businesses and establishments in the area that are fighting their part of the struggle. Not quite an anchor, not quite a hub, it feels more like a mentor, showing the way that an establishment with a vision and a large heart can stand against decay and lethargy and lead the way to a creative and exciting future.
The reading went well. We had about 30 people — a good crowd — engaged and animated. We went on for about an hour and a half, with talk and readings and stories. This was the first day out on my own with Lone Dog Road and I had no idea how to present it. But the Zenith crowd helped with their genuine enthusiasm and attention. I’m feeling good about the book now, and ready to head north up the shore of Superior to Grand Marais, a tiny beloved harbor town at the jumping off point for people going to the interior and the great northern Boundary Waters and Voyageurs National Park. This is going well.