Tim

I walk past the ‘Title’ bookshop as is my custom on a Tuesday after work before trivia and glance through the glass, looking for the furrowed brow behind the counter. Sure enough, there’s movement and Tim glances around. He’s there but he’s not there. He’s kind of on autopilot manning the shop’s computer register, unobtrusive, almost reclusive. Don’t be fooled though he’s the master of covert multi-tasking, being subconsciously alert to the odd customer query and to those who enter through the doors of 501 Crown Street, Surry Hills. 

It would be easy to think that he’s just doing his thing behind the counter. He has that innate ability, like an uncanny sixth sense to know when to intervene and ask someone if they need any help. My boyfriend and I commented on what an art that is when we were looking for a couch. Those sales assistants who seemed overly eager to assist (ie make a sale) put us off. We found those most helpful were the ones who would just let us do our thing, browse, peruse and then enter at the right moment with tact and candour. 

Tim gets the rhythm of a book/music shop. He doesn’t impose, he’s not in your face but he’s there if you need him. Case in point. There’s a guy who looks to be in his early 40s who walks in and peruses the shelves for a good 45 minutes or so. He quizzically looks at the books, gently removes one from it’s position, caresses it’s cover, turns it over to read the blurb, then puts it back. He repeats this ritual several times before selecting four or so. Tim, observing this routine sidles past him and in doing so shows him a book recommended to him by a customer who told Tim that it was one of the best works of literature they’ve ever read. It’s by a Mexican author and the reviews are impressive. He buys the book.  

This first paragraph is misleading.Title is not just a bookshop. It’s filled with music, cascading vinyl and posters of the likes of Dylan and the Stones. It’s literally that but metaphorically, so much more. It reminds me of a coffee shop designed ahead of its time, like a wood-panelled rabbit warren with nooks and crannies. It’s built for dreamers, for thinkers, for those who can while the hours away in their heads. I think it’s ahead of its time really, not because it’s not modernist, minimalist, sleek or Scandi but because it knew what it wanted to be from the outset. It didn’t allow itself to be defined by consumer and marketing trends. Build it and they will come, and come they did. In fact the writing on the Title webpage is exquisite and captures the vision neatly. ‘Title is about the art and artists that run free, the ones that don’t fit into boxes, and even more, the ones that last the distance and outlast time’. It’s stunning writing and I’d love to meet the person who had me at the ‘Who we are’ page. 

As I’m typing this an article in The Age pops up on my phone. It notes that in 2019, ‘the print book has survived, the e-book has plateaued and the audiobook is a hit with achievement-oriented young men…’ While my first thoughts were how do you define achievement-oriented? Quickly followed by, what about young women? What do they read? But it’s so great to know that books are surviving. There’s something about dog-earing a book, measuring progress and the smell of a book. How I love that vintage musty smell and the texture of a cover too, the polished, the flexibend and the matt, all fantastic.   

He has eyes that have seen many things. His stare expresses as much, though the eyes give nothing away. Bono has explained he wears tinted glasses because the eyes are the window to the soul. Whatever Tim’s thinking his eyes do not betray his thoughts and like a master 500 player he keeps his cards close to his chest.

I glean enough from Tim to know that he started working at Title in 2007. What started off as a venture with 20 books, expanded and consolidated with a franchise in Barangaroo and Surry Hills. He’s not the owner but he’s responsible for ordering the stock, doing all the accounts, for recruitment of part-timers and essentially everything else that comes with running a small business. He cites memorable customers as being Ben Wishart, (I can’t get Q out of my head), while Hugo Weaving has also popped by and Jennifer Byrne was a fan of a Gentleman in Moscow. Music is his real passion though, and indeed he does have a kind of muso vibe and look about him. 

Title doesn’t just contain the bestsellers, there’s the subtle understated writing of Richard Kapuscinski and Rachel Cusk nestled between Booker Prize winners, classics, anthologies, sci-fi and the best sellers. You can almost feel the diversity and harmony between the categories, co-existing in an ecosystem of tolerance, while leveraging their collective strengths in an appeal to the customer. Tim understands this delicate balance and works to ensure there is an equanimous balance, shuffling books here and there, never allowing stagnation to occur, always creating interest to the observer. 

He’s an observer, an introvert. I internally do a fist pump when I meet a fellow introvert. As Susan Cain wrote in her book Quiet, introverts have power ‘in a world that doesn’t stop talking.’ I feel an underlying bond with those who analyse, internalise and are masters of the thought bubble. Never judge an introvert by it’s cover, because if you base assumptions on first encounters then you can miss the magic that’s behind an exterior, the creme beneath the caramel.  

A longtime ambition has been to work in a bookshop, paid, voluntary, doesn’t matter. I had been pestering (begging) Tim for some time to let me work in Title by whatever means possible, whether it was sweeping the floor, wrapping gifts, you name it, I was there to assist. Just before Christmas he finally buckled and gave in to my request. What followed was a glorious three hours on a Thursday evening chatting with customers and keeping tabs on new stock. It was like walking through the cupboard and entering Narnia, reaching the top of the faraway tree. I loved it and didn’t want to leave that world.    

Tim. Here’s to you. It would have been easy to say you were too busy. It would have been easy to brush me off as others quite fairly and reasonably have done. But you didn’t and until the day I am lowered into the ground I will always remember your generosity. 

Thank you.