KING OF THE BOOK BASEMENT

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The Gran Pulpería de Caracas contains over a millions books, documents and artifacts which fill every available space of the premises. Its owner explained how it once served as a centre for debate on issues of the day. Although now apparently in terminal decline, the pulpería is still a place where local traditions, Knowledge and history are maintained.

"The pulpería became the great window through which to observe the small world of national affairs."

Leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the street, you are overwhelmed by the sensation that you are entering a place steeped in history. Books are piled from floor to ceiling, trinkets hang from above and line skirting boards below. Descending the narrow staircase into the bowels of the store, passing a dusty wine rack loaded with ancient champagne bottles, row upon row of bookshelves open up before you. The musty aroma of old books is wafted around by electric fans which stand amid yet more books strewn or piled on the floor.

You have just walked into the Gran Pulpería de Caracas, home to over a million rare books, original documents and historical artifacts. There to greet you is Rafael Ramón Castellanos, historian, philosopher and owner of one of the few remaining pulperias in the country. Author of the title History of the Pulpería in Venezuela and many other historical volumes which are on proud display in the glass cabinet behind his desk, Castellanos is a veritable authority on the roles in society that establishments like this have played over the years.

There is no adequate translation for the word “pulpería”, being as it is a term to describe a very Latin American phenomenon, and one which has been in decline since the middle of last century. From first impressions it appears to be nothing more than an extensive secondhand bookshop, but books were just one small part of the selection of items sold in the pulperias of yesterday.

“The pulpería was the epicenter of the colonial economy, It sold all manner of things,” explained Castellanos, as he sat amid several piles of books, “No town or village was founded without one. The church and the laws required that every settlement had a place that bought and sold food and day-to-day goods. When a village was founded, the pulpero [the owner of the pulpería] would appear.”

But beyond providing essential goods to the local community, the pulpería evolved to become a point of information. “It was where you would go keep yourself informed about everything going on in the area and the wider world, the only place with a radio or television. The first place where the newspaper arrived -and that is when it did actually arrive- was the pulpería.”

News was a commodity like any other, but those pulperías where newspapers were changing hands and people where talking about the stories it contained tended to attract more visitors, and hence do more business. “ But the transmission of ideas began to take place there too,” Castellanos added with a half-smile.

The Trujillo-born Dr. of Philosophy went on to explain how these stores went from such humble beginnings to become centers of political and intellectual debate, a function they continued to perform well into the twentieth century.

The pulpero, said Castellanos, would memorize the day’s news and relate his opinions to the people that visited his store, spreading his point of view to the extent that he would acquire a virtual army of followers “a crowd armed with ideas”.

“The pulpería became the great windows through which to observe the small world of national affairs,” the historian added.

“It was a forum, a centre of integration where blacks, whites, Indians, women, children, everybody would go.”

Being such a focal point in the local community, the pulpero knew everyone and everything about the area he lived in.

“The pulpero became the village genealogist, the oral chronicler of local history.” Those that passed their knowledge on to writers who documented them for posterity “became stimulators of the diffusion of Venezuelan customs.” Castellanos explained with marked erudition.

Lamentably, however, pulperías have not adapted well to the march of progress. “These days the pulpero doesn’t really exist. Except in the most isolated or mountainous areas. But those that remain still perform the role of preserving local knowledge.”

In an attempt to keep up with the times, Castellanos will start selling his items online through a website that will be made later on in the year, although actually visiting the store is highly recommended.

It is located on 3a Transversal de las Delicias de Sabana Grande with Av. Solano López, opposite Torre Financeria del Banco Industrial de Venezuela.

OCTOPUS, LIQOUR OR WOOD PULP VENDOR?

The word pulpería first appeared in 1506, but the origins of the terms and its usage are not entirely clear. Some Say it stems from pulpero, the Spanish word for the person who would sell freshly caught octopus and other sea derivatives on the beach, around whom a crowd would always gather to obtain the best produce first.

Other accounts maintain that pulpería derives from pulpa or pulp: wood pulp, from which paper is made, which would be one particularly fitting origin, although the sale of books was a later addition to the trade that pulperias originally engaged in. “Pulpa” would equally refer to the pulpy fruit mass from which exotic juices are made, another item which was once sold in pulperias .

Yet another version states that pulpería is a corruption of pulquería- the point of sale of pulque, particularly potent liquor which is referred to here in Venezuela as cocuy. These vendors may have expanded their trades to become the historical and fast disappearing pulperia. Whatever the origins of the word, the pulperia established itself at the heart of the local community, although its heyday is long since over.

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The Daily Journal, Caracas, 19 de diciembre de 2006.
Escrito por Sebastian Kennedy, fotografía de Yomar Monsalve
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