Ashley Elizabeth Miller

Lou Cohen was the seventh child of an immigrant family on the Lower East Side. In 1929, he borrowed $500 from his uncle to open a bookstore on Fourth Avenue: Argosy Books.

When the stock market crashed four years later, he sought books from New Yorkers forced to sell their libraries — not in bad faith, though. He’s said to have made fair trades.

The name “Argosy” comes from an old term evoking the image of a precious cargo ship from Spain. Cohen explained in his biography: “I selected ‘Argosy’ as my choice, as it had romance attached to it. It symbolized treasure and rarities carried by old Spanish galleons.” Also because a name starting with the letter “A” would ensure his store would appear first on any list.

“He was a very smart businessman,” said his daughter in a 2014 story for The New Yorker by Janet Malcolm.

After Cohen passed, he left his beloved palace of books to his three academically inclined daughters, who, according to Malcolm, exuded a “preternatural amity” — unusual for siblings who inherit a family business.

Flash forward to today: I visited their store, now owned by one of the women’s sons, at the end of a chilly walk.

It all started at about 2 p.m. I entered Central Park at 69th Street from the Upper West Side. I saw runners brave the breeze, heard horses clomp past, carting tourists on expensive carriage rides, and even spotted a sea lion in the zoo on my out of the park.

Exiting at 62nd Street, I made my way into the Upper East Side, where stores like Gucci, Michael Kors, and others whose names I will not pretend to know, line the streets.

Finally, on the street Simon & Garfunkel made famous, 59th, I caught sight of Cohen’s six-story store I’d read so much about.

Once inside, I made my way to the basement. There, I eyed the endless shelves and stacks of books that consumed the rectangular room. All I could think about was what this place once had in its place.

Having read Malcolm’s story, I knew there had been a bar above the basement. I imagined it holding pots and pans, beer, wine, whiskey, vodka, gin, dust, rats, mice. Maybe it even witnessed some stories: a couple kissing, once caught in the act, offering the excuse, We thought this was the way to the bathroom.

Now, many years later, on this day in December 2024, I stood there.

Like books, buildings are living things.