Bloor Street is blessed with two diverse options  

By Howard Pressburger

Do you remember when you learned to read? Was it Fun With Dick and Jane? Dr. Seuss, or P.D. Eastman? Maybe a coffee-table book about Liberace? No matter what, you probably learned to read from a book: a real, honest-to-goodness, printed-on-paper, held-in-your- hand, book. A book doesn’t require batteries or uploading. It’s tactile, and it makes a real sound when you turn the page. It may even have a musty aroma. Books are anachronistic.  They take up space, and when you move, you probably have regrets, but like me, you can’t live without them. 

Fortunately, there are a couple of great places in the Annex to keep you supplied; there are “two households, both alike in dignity.” Not the Montagues and the Capulets, but BMV and Seekers Books. BMV, located at 471 Bloor St. W., occupies the space that was once the Hungarian Castle restaurant, while Seekers is hidden under the stairs below Mezcalero at 509 Bloor St. W., around the corner from Wildhearts Café (see my previous article). BMV is like an inviting, magical castle, replete with helpful stewards. Seekers is like a monastic cell, where a learned man can help you make sense of the world.

As far as bookstores as a concept, I really feel that the Annex BMV is the perfect example. The store is bright and open, with large front windows, high ceilings, and a central staircase that is wide and inviting. The space is festooned in different colours and merchandised in such a way that there seems to be a surprise at every turn, such as hidden staircases. It’s everything an inviting bookstore is meant to be, without having to resort to inspirational hand towels.

Seekers personifies the proper Toronto used bookstore. It’s all business; no fluff. It’s organized, compact, and shoehorned into an old basement. But that’s the charm. The best used bookstores are all repurposed buildings and spaces: old insurances offices, warehouses, small factories, and even an abattoir. And I don’t know if it was my teenage brashness, but I found that the older, bearded, perpetual English literature grad student never thought much of me. Sitting at the checkout table—which was always an old, ornate desk, recovered from the office of the building’s original owner—the man in charge would dispense judgment on me and my high school chums who went downtown to exercise our intellectual muscle. Always humbled, we would return to our suburban wasteland armed with poetry, prose, and reference works we would use to impress our classmates. Alas, always a Pyrrhic victory, since the highest point of intellectualism was the profoundness of the lyrics of Bruce Springsteen.

This is just a long-winded way to say that Patrick, who is the current owner of Seekers, is nothing like those curmudgeonly clerks of my past. Patrick is the real thing; he wants people to read; he wants to help people read; and he wants to help people read books that will enhance their lives. Patrick personifies Seekers Books. He is the most recent in a long line of caretakers of this store. Visiting the location in his youth, he became absorbed by the magic. Years later, he became the owner. He may or may not know how that happened, but in addition to an economic transaction, I believe there was some form of psychic transaction as well. Somehow the store’s entire collection, both past and present, resides in Patrick’s mind. Whenever I’m looking for a specific book, I always visit Seekers first. If he’s got it, Patrick knows exactly where it is (don’t reshelve things in the wrong place as there may be a minotaur ready to brutally correct you). If he doesn’t have it, he knows the last time he had it, and at least a physical description of the person who bought it. He’s always willing to discuss books, literature, philosophy, and the other lively arts, with an arid sense of humour.

BMV is where I go when I don’t know what I want. It’s definitely a destination in the neighbourhood when I want some light entertainment, or if I’m looking for a gift. It’s also my second stop, after Seekers, when I’m looking for a specific title, although that miracle has only happened once. When I recently purchased a random book from BMV, the person on cash, smiling and engaging, even though he had a beard and may have been a grad student, said the following: “If you’re looking for something specific, you probably won’t find it here, but it’s an adventure nevertheless.”

No glooming places, this morning will they bring,
The sun with no sorrow, may show his head,
Go hence to have more talk of these things,
Some shall be pardoned, but all will be read.
For never shall we have far to go,
To find books, like Juliet and Romeo.

Howard Pressburger is manager of Wiener’s Home Hardware, the beloved retail institution established in 1922.

READ MORE BY HOWARD PRESSBURGER:

• LIFE: Coffee two ways (Feb. 2026)
• NEW IN BUSINESS: Clothing options on Bloor for the fashion conscious (Dec. 2025)
• NEW IN BUSINESS: Delightfully Turkish (Sept. 2025)