Crazy - in a good way
Inside Southwest Book Trader, Durango's oldest – and quirkiest – bookstore

Some of you may recall an early scene from one of pop culture’s favorite 1980s fantasy films, “The NeverEnding Story.” Ten-year-old protagonist Bastian Bux escapes from school bullies into a quiet, unassuming bookstore where he meets the elderly, cantankerous bookstore owner seated around stacks of books and clutter. This serendipitous encounter leads Bastian on a fantastical adventure of a lifetime, thanks to one ancient and magical book he “finds” on the owner’s desk.

When visiting Southwest Book Trader, at 175 E. 5th St., one can find this same vibe.

Located in a small, stucco home that still bears the tiny footprints impressed upon the concrete front porch of the children who once lived there, Southwest Book Trader may not seem all that extraordinary at first glance.

The front porch is now home to typical antique flea market finds of jewelry boxes, ceramic kitchenware and animal figurines. But don’t let its exterior appearance fool you. Inside is a bona fide treasure trove of rare and unique collectables, including used books covering an eclectic range of topics and genres intermingled with rare and early edition books that even the most finicky bibliophile would find impressive.

Looking for a field guide on the lichens of the Rocky Mountains or maybe a book on the lost art of Japanese flower arrangement? Southwest Book Trader has you covered. But you may have to work for it. Some of the books are hidden behind stacks of front-facing books or hidden in crooks and corners of the shop. For some people, entering the narrow corridors of the maze-like shop beset by endless piles and towers of books may feel intimidating and bring to mind an episode of “Hoarders: Books Edition.” For others, it presents a fun and delightful challenge. I fall into this latter category. 

I recently paid a visit to Southwest Book Trader on a sunny but brisk Tuesday afternoon to see what gems I could unearth amid the massive assemblage of books and peculiar keepsakes. It had been some time since my last visit. On that occasion, I’d left the shop with one of my now most cherished collector’s items – a vintage metal old-school “ET: The Extra-Terrestrial” movie lunchbox, which epitomizes one of the best things about Southwest Book Trader: you just never know what dopamine-inducing item you’ll find. 

Much like the bookstore owner from “The NeverEnding Story,” shop owner George Hassan sits at his desk, surrounded by scores of gravity-defying stacks of books and other interesting items, such as the pea green rotary phone placed near the front of his desk. It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those, much less heard one ring. Hassan mentioned that it still worked and proceeded to call the phone to demonstrate its functionality. Despite being what one online reviewer called “the quintessential curmudgeon,” it would be difficult not to notice what a genuinely warm-hearted person Hassan is as he cracks jokes and converses amicably with his customers and shop hand, Zach. That’s not to say Hassan can’t deliver the occasional zinger if the opportunity arises.

“I have zero regard for what people think,” he said.  

Hassan, the son of a railroad engineer, grew up in Pittsburgh with parents of Turkish and Macedonian descent. He spent time in the Army and then traveled around the country a bit before landing in Durango in the early ’70s.

“I came here for the mountains,’’ Hassan said. 

After several years and various jobs, including construction work as well as owning and operating a vinyl record shop, Hassan opened Southwest Book Trader in 1980. To this day, it holds the title as the oldest – and I would add quirkiest – bookshop in town. Durango’s other beloved bookstore, Maria’s Bookshop, opened in 1984.

Perhaps most impressive about Hassan is his remarkable grasp on his entire book inventory, not only at the shop, but in his numerous storage warehouses as well. He’s also as humorously snarky as he is knowledgeable on many topics, spanning books, history, art and more, exemplified by the stories he exchanges with customers, booksellers and friends who frequent the shop.

As I continue my quest through the shop’s tight corridors while trying my best to avoid inciting a book avalanche, I’m struck again by the sheer variety of fascinating book subjects found here. First, I spot “Lost in the Jungle – A Harrowing True Story of Survival” by Yossi Ghinsburg and then the “Forgotten Art of Building and Using a Brick Bake Oven” by Richard Bacon. Then there’s a copy of the “Philosophy of Spinoza,” published in 1927 by the Modern Library, with echoes of the previous owner on its pages in the form of underlined passages and handwritten notes in the margins. Next, the naturalist in me is drawn to the natural science section of the shop, where I find a myriad of books on entomology and a 50th anniversary copy of Roger Tory Peterson’s “Field Guide to Mammals.” The opportunities for discovering your must-have book or item are endless within these walls.

So, for those visiting Southwest Book Trader for the first time, here are a few navigational tips to take along with you: set aside a good one to two hours for your visit to get an authentic feel for the shop and all that it offers. Also, if you’re anything like me, know that it’s easy to lose track of time in here. Some, but not all, of the bookcases and sections are labeled. Hassan is very helpful if there’s a particular genre you would like to explore. Only the fiction and classics sections are alphabetized by author, while other sections are more randomly arranged. And finally, always look up and down in the aisles, as many books are hidden on the tip-top of bookshelves and way below eye level. 

As for me, my most recent visit was an enjoyable and productive day of treasure hunting. Among my finds are a replacement copy of Margaret Attwood’s “Oryx and Crake” and Hassan’s recommendation, Nathaniel Philbrick’s “In the Heart of the Sea.” This is the book that inspired Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick,” he told me.

As I say goodbye and begin heading toward the exit, I notice a middle-aged man and his teenage daughter making their way to the shop entrance. I can’t help but catch a snippet of their conversation.

“This is a crazy, crazy store,” he told her with a smile. “But in a good way.”

I wholeheartedly agree.