Boston in Used Bookstores

Boston is a city I always end up enjoying more than I expect. Last time I was here, I focused on the historical sites and major tourist attractions. This time, though, I had the freedom to dive into one of my favorite travel activities: exploring used bookstores. For me, wandering through these shops is one of the best ways to get to know a city and its people—and, as you’ll see, it’s a bit of a personal obsession. Visiting these bookstores feels like catching up with old friends, with the added joy of discovering new ones.

Now that I have a blog, I thought I’d do something different and document this bookstore adventure. I’ve captured my impressions of each shop, along with a few memorable books I encountered, in case it helps others with prioritizing their visits. Of course, these impressions are entirely personal—every bookstore experience depends on the visitor’s tastes, budget, and interests. That’s why I give a ton of context about how I made my decisions.

A quick note on the limitations: I was traveling light, with only a small personal item and public transportation to get me around. That meant skipping some out-of-the-way stores and passing up (dozens of) hefty tomes I’d have loved to bring home. Even so, each visit left me with plenty of stories—and more than a few additions to my reading list.

Boston is a paradise for used bookstore lovers, and my recent trip was all about exploring as many as I could fit in. Each shop had its own character, and I tried to capture that here—though fair warning, this ended up being a rather long post. If you’re using the Table of Contents below to jump to highlights, here are a few personal favorites: Brattle Book Shop, with its outdoor bargain lot and rare editions; Bryn Mawr Book Store in Cambridge, where the selection of academic texts, a large fiction section, and beautifully bound classics could keep anyone browsing for hours; Commonwealth Books, deceptively small from the outside but packed with well-organized philosophy, history, and science titles; and Good Dog Records & Books, a cozy shop with an unusually strong selection of math and logic that led to one of the most memorable conversations of the trip. If you’re here for the story, read on.

Stores I Visited:

Commonwealth Books (Must Visit)

Commonwealth Books is deceptively spacious—I spent about an hour exploring their science, math, and philosophy sections, with a quick detour into history. I wish I’d had more time; several parts of the store went entirely unexplored, and there was so much more inside than the narrow entrance suggests.

Lately, I’ve been deep into the history and foundations of mathematics¹, so I loved seeing shelves dedicated to “History of Mathematics.” But to my disappointment, I couldn’t find anything quite to my taste. Most of the books were either too narrow (e.g., Emergence of the Theory of Lie Groups) or overly broad and superficial. Given my limited luggage (just a “personal item”!), I didn’t want to use up space on something that wasn’t already on my to-read list. But I did find a clean copy of To Mock A Mockingbird, which was a real highlight.² I also spotted The Theory of Social Situations by Greenberg, which explores a game-theoretic solution concept that supposedly outdoes all others³. It was a tempting find and I almost caved.

The science section was fairly interesting, though nothing out of the ordinary.

Commonwealth’s philosophy section was impressive, and I hoped to find a few titles on my near-term reading list.⁴ I did spot a few works by authors I’m interested in, but the books weren’t quite right. Some were the wrong titles (like finding Strawson’s Sense of Truth when I was hoping for Individuals), while others were in languages I can’t read (many of Quine’s works were in German or French). There were also some books I plan to read someday, but not just yet—like Rorty’s Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature. Despite the near-misses, it was still a pleasure to browse through their selection.

In the natural history section, I saw a few titles I’d recently read (like Christakis’s Blueprint and Browne’s Darwin: Voyaging), but nothing new caught my eye.

I also searched for Braudel’s The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II, as one does, but it was nowhere to be found. That is until I accidentally spotted it in the Spanish history section… Unfortunately, the steep $30 price for a softcover copy, combined with my limited luggage space, made me leave it behind. I look forward to spending the next 18 months obsessing over why I didn’t buy it.

Overall, Commonwealth offers a fantastic selection with well-organized categories, though it’s slightly pricier than some alternatives. Even so, I’d definitely visit again on a future trip to Boston. Fun fact: I recently learned they have a sibling shop in New Orleans, Crescent City Books. Funnily enough, I’d been to that store before and had no idea they were connected!

Rodney’s Bookstore (Optional)

Rodney’s Bookstore is a cozy, compact shop, and with limited time on my hands, I was able to cover most of the areas that caught my interest. About 40% of the store is dedicated to fiction, which doesn’t leave much room for nonfiction in such a small space. I spent most of my time looking at the books in science and classics shelves.

The philosophy section was pretty sparse—maybe 30-40 books total—and I didn’t find anything that caught my interest, so I made my way to science.

The math and science selection was limited. I spotted Alan Turing: The Enigma by Andrew Hodges, which is still on my reading list, but it’s common enough that it didn’t feel worth hauling home this time. I also saw a handsome edition of Darwin’s most influential 4 books, edited by Watson. I was pleasantly surprised to find Presocratic Philosophers by Kirk, Raven, and Schoenfield tucked among the science books. It’s a great collection, and I’d have snapped it up if I had more space.

I also came across The Horse, The Wheel, The Language by David Anthony, though it was shelved with South Boston history books for some reason… It’s a fascinating book on the origins of Indo-European languages⁵, arguing that their homeland was in the steppes north of the Black Sea. The book combines linguistic evidence and archaeological finds related to technology and agriculture to argue for this location—a book I’d love to re-read someday, but maybe not the right book to carry around Boston on a tight luggage budget.

I also spotted Green Mansions by Hudson and Human Action by Mises—both unexpected finds, since I rarely see them in bookstores.⁶ There was also a beautiful Folio Society edition of The Talisman by Walter Scott, but its hefty size made the decision for me.⁷ I also browsed the history selection but couldn’t find something that interested me.

Being so close to Harvard, I thought they might have some scholarly editions of literary works—maybe even a Riverside Chaucer. But to my surprise, there wasn’t a single copy of Chaucer in sight. In fact, as far as I can tell, there weren’t any works from Old or Middle English periods.

I enjoyed browsing the stacks, as always, though the selection wasn’t quite to my taste. The lack of organization was a little frustrating, but the store is small enough that you can cover it all in a reasonable amount of time. Plus, the chaos led me to notice a few books I might have missed otherwise. Prices are generally fair, so I’d definitely visit Rodney’s again in the future.

Good Dog Records & Books (Must Visit)

Before arriving in Boston, I did my homework on used bookstores, mostly through Reddit and a few random blog posts. I shared my list with a Bostonian friend, who immediately told me I was missing one of her favorites: Good Dog. I’m so glad I took her advice—and I hope this post pays the favor forward.

Good Dog is a cozy little bookstore tucked near Boston College, with a surprising selection of math, logic, and physics books. The owner, Barry, turned out to be incredibly knowledgeable. We ended up in a long conversation about everything from the foundations of mathematics to machine learning, evolution, and beyond.

Good Dog’s logic and math section was surprisingly extensive. I found Enderton’s Introduction to Mathematical Logic (one of my favorite logic books, and one I’ve never seen in a bookstore before), Tarski’s Introduction to Logic, Boole’s collected works, and Boolos and Jeffrey’s Computability and Logic (which I couldn’t resist buying–no regrets!)

Barry mentioned that Raven, another used bookstore in the area, had recently shut down—it was one of the few other shops that stocked highly technical academic texts.⁸ At one point, Barry asked me what “nonmonotone truth” means, pointing to a book. So we picked up the book and tried to decipher it together. But the terminology was so dense, we ended up none the wiser for it. I thought it might be the relaxation of logical omnipotence, but now I see that it’s at least not limited to that.⁹

The math section included some vintage editions of classics like Hall’s Theory of Groups and Halmos’s Finite-Dimensional Vector Spaces, as well as histories of various subfields of mathematics. I even spotted Villani’s Birth of a Theorem, which led to a conversation about his work on optimal transport theory—and his attempt to become the mayor of Paris to solve its traffic issues…¹⁰ Barry even brought out some of the “good stuff” from behind the counter—rare finds with dense content that we tried (with mixed success) to make sense of together. I saw several volumes of The Art of Computer Programming as well but thankfully, they were on a very high shelf and I didn’t have to make the decision to not buy it.

The philosophy section was interesting, though I didn’t give it much attention since I was focused on math and logic. A few titles did catch my eye—Ryle’s Concept of Mind, Kant’s Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics, and some works by Fodor—but I wasn’t thrilled with the editions or their condition.¹¹.

While I was browsing, someone called about a map, and Barry started pulling out all kinds of cool old maps to show me. One was a 19th-century map of Palestine, which led to a conversation about that West Wing episode where President Bartlet wants to hang a similar map in the Oval Office—only to be told by each and every one of his advisors that he absolutely can’t.

Beyond the excellent book selection, Good Dog also has a large collection of records and, as I mentioned, some truly fascinating maps. Barry was flexible with prices and refreshingly low-key about selling. I’ll definitely be back in the spring—hopefully with a bigger suitcase in tow!

Bryn Mawr Book Store (Must Visit)

Bryn Mawr Book Store, located in Cambridge, donates its proceeds to scholarships at Bryn Mawr College. With a fantastic selection and friendly staff, it’s the kind of place where you could easily buy books by the dozen without feeling guilty—a dangerous prospect… Personal connection: about a decade ago, I bought a beautiful 19th-century edition of Gibbon’s History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire from them online, and it’s been one of my most prized possessions ever since. With this “advertisement” (or cautionary tale) out of the way, here’s what I browsed this time. I spent about two hours there, mostly in the science, math, and philosophy sections (surprise, surprise!).

As I walked in, I was greeted by an impressive collection of Goethe’s works at a great price—see the photo below for proof. Remembering that I also got my Gibbon’s for a very reasonable price, I can’t imagine how quickly my library would fill up if I was living near Boston.

I was told that it had a great science selection, and since it is close to Harvard and MIT, that made sense to me. The science section was indeed very interesting but perhaps not as wide as the ones in Commonwealth and Good Dog. There weren’t many serious math books, but I’ve come to expect that. I liked the evolution section (several Dawkins and Dennett books spotted) but I already have most of what I liked there. There was also an entire subsection on the “brain”, including books like The Symbolic Species: The Co-evolution of Language and the Brain by Terrence Deacon, Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain by Antonio Damasio, and Mind, Language and Society: Philosophy in the Real World by John Searle. I’d have probably snatched up all three if I had the space (and the arm strength).

The philosophy section was especially fun to browse. After a few minutes, I realized that many of the books I picked up had once belonged to the same person: Charles D. Parsons. I figured he’d probably passed away, and his family had donated his library. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it at first. After browsing some more, I got really curious because he had books from 6-7 decades, and he signed and dated many of them; this person read philosophy books for over half a century including works by Davidson, Dummett, Putnam, Williams but also classics like Lucretius. So, I did the natural thing and found out that he was a philosopher of mathematics at Harvard, an advisee of Quine, and that he passed away recently. I happened to have my copy of Shapiro’s Thinking About Mathematics; I pulled it out of the bag and sure enough, he was referenced in the chapter I read a few days ago. I thought it was a good enough coincidence that I had to make sure at least one of his books would go to a good home.

I continued browsing and raised my eyebrows when I reached the Qs—there were two books by Quine, though both were recent prints. One of them, however, Word & Object, had a “signed” dedication to someone named Charles. I won’t share the entire text, but apparently this person had been learning from Charles since the fall of 1957. The signature, though hard to decipher at the time, turned out to be from Dagfinn. However, I was pretty sure ‘Charles’ was Charles Parsons so I decided to get it; besides the book has been on my reading list for years. I still had to figure out who signed it for him though.

After successfully fighting the urge to buy all the books owned by Parsons (most of which were on my reading lists anyway), I made my way to the linguistics section… which ended up being a collection of about fifteen books, barely related to linguistics. I looked around the other shelves and spotted a copy of John McWhorter’s Our Magnificent Bastard Tongue: The Untold History of English. It was a great find—I like McWhorter, I’d been curious about this book after reading some of his other work, and most importantly, it’s small enough to fit in my bag… or jacket pocket if necessary.

I also checked out the classics section to see which Loeb editions they had, and if they have any other classics that I am planning to read soon.¹²¹³ I spotted a Penguin edition of Metamorphoses and got excited, hoping it might be Golding’s translation, but it turned out to be the Innes translation—which I already own. I had no luck on the Loeb editions I was after, but I did find a Latin copy of Lucretius’s On the Nature of Things (or as it says on the cover, LVCRETI’s DE RERVM NATVRA). Naturally, it had once belonged to Charles D. Parsons, who bought it on June 12, 1950, in Cambridge, MA. I am never not learning Latin, no matter how incremental or indirect my progress might be, so I of course had to buy this one as well.

On the way back home, I was going through the books again and again while keeping an eye on my stop, and that’s when I noticed that the person who wrote the preface for the new edition of Word & Object was the person who signed it for ‘Charles’. This makes perfect sense; Dagfinn Føllesdal was another one of Quine’s advisees and like Quine and Parsons, he taught at Harvard. Another mystery resolved.

I walked into the store, dead set on buying at most one book. Naturally, I walked out with three—and a mental list of dozens more I plan to come back for. Prices are also seductively low. I read that they didn’t use to accept credit card but when I was paying, I saw a sign saying they now do. The sweet old lady at the counter even told me I could “do the magical thing with my phone that the kids do”—but I’m not quite that hip, so I passed her my card to swipe. It was a different visit than the one I expected, but totally worth it.

Harvard Book Store (Optional)

Harvard Book Store, located in Harvard Square, has a certain prestige—but it didn’t quite live up to my hopes as a used bookstore destination.

Despite the name, Harvard Book Store isn’t affiliated with Harvard University—though the Harvard community is clearly a big part of its customer base, and many sections reflect typical Harvard course syllabi. Most of the store is dedicated to new books, but the basement holds a mix of remaindered and used books, which is what drew me in.

Given its location, I’d hoped for some serious science or math books, but the basement selection was mostly light on academic depth. The most unexpected title was Topological Methods in Walrasian Economics by Dierker, though I already own a copy. I did find a few interesting science history books, including Darwin Among the Machines by George Dyson (which I bought) and Leviathan and the Air-Pump: Hobbes, Boyle, and the Experimental Life by Shapin and Schaffer¹⁴, but overall, the selection didn’t hold many surprises.

I’d hoped to find some Old or Middle English texts, but the options were sparse and mostly modern translations. For Old English, they only had Beowulf—in a modern translation—and the Middle English options were abridged or simplified. I guess I’ll have to get those Riverside editions online after all.

There were two more books that I would have bought if I didn’t have any constraints: Colin Renfrew’s Before Civilisation: The Radiocarbon Revolution and Prehistoric Europe. I already talked about Renfrew’s work on the origins of Indo-European Languages. This book has a related but slightly different focus; it is about the origins of some of the cultural innovations that are usually attributed to Near East. Second book was Sea & Civilization by Lincoln Paine; I love learning more about sailing and anything to do with ships and this is a history of the role of the sea in shaping civilizations.

When I headed upstairs, I was surprised to find the store packed at 8 pm—it took me five minutes just to reach the cashiers. Apparently, a poet from Gaza was there signing his new book, drawing an enthusiastic crowd. I hope Israeli poets are being received with a comparable enthusiasm as well, if they are being invited at all…

Harvard Book Store is worth a stop if you’re already in the area, but it’s not worth a special trip if you’re looking for a dedicated used bookstore experience. Stick to the basement for any potential finds, but lower your expectations.

Brattle Book Shop (Must Visit)

Brattle Book Shop is an absolute must-visit for any book lover. With its famous outdoor bargain lot, multi-level building, and third floor dedicated to rare books, it feels like three shops in one. I first visited a few years ago and practically had to be surgically removed to continue our Boston tour. This time, my friends just left me behind—win-win!

Brattle is probably Boston’s most iconic bookshop, and it lives up to the hype. They have an outside section, which is larger and better than most bookshops, and all the books there are priced $1-5. The books are not categorized, but I’m not complaining; it forced me to notice so many gems that I would have missed otherwise. You can see this part on the left side of the image above. They also have a three-story building, as can be partially seen on the right side of the same image. The first two floors are like a regular bookshop with an amazing selection. The third floor is entirely dedicated to rare books, where you can find anything from centuries old classics to signed copies of modern books.

I don’t know how much time I spent in Brattle but I could have easily spent another few hours without getting bored there, although I admit I timed my visit badly; it was incredibly crowded. If you can, I’d recommend visiting Brattle on a weekday, and remember that they are closed on Sundays. I also mostly browsed the lot but I’ll talk about a few highlights from the indoors section as well.

Within about 2 minutes of arriving, I found a pristine hardcover copy of Civilization & Capitalism, 15th-18th Century, The Structures of Everyday Life by Fernand Braudel. It is the first volume of an amazing work that considers every aspect of daily life, from measurements to grains, from water usage habits to metallurgy, from towns to currencies and money… You might remember from my visit to Commonwealth that I was looking for his Mediterranean history but I know how to take what I get; I knew I started the day with a win under my arm.

Within a few more minutes, I also found a nice copy of The Empires of the Steppes: A History of Central Asia by Rene Grousset. This is an important work for its exploration of how ‘barbarians’ dominated sedentary societies for centuries, only to have power dynamics shift almost overnight with the advance of artillery. “This was a bittersweet moment—this was another book I’d been looking for, but I knew it would more or less take up my remaining space. From here on out, the visit was mostly for fun.

However, the amazing finds didn’t stop there. I found The Pursuit of Power: Technology, Armed Force, and Society since A.D. 1000 by one of my favorite historians, William McNeill.¹⁵ I do have a copy already and I could not interest my host in Boston to reading the book so I had to pass. I also saw all volumes of Winston Churchill’s Marlborough: His Life and Times series about his ancestor, John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough. As an avid Neal Stephenson reader, I was very tempted but I knew it was not the right time or place. I also saw sporadic volumes of Churchill’s other works; I’m pretty sure one could collect all his works within just a few visits.

I haven’t spoken much about fiction, so the next find adds some variety: An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears. It’s one of my favorite novels of all time—a historical crime-mystery set in 17th-century Oxford with four narrators. It has spies, mathematicians, scientists, and more. I won’t say more but just seeing it made me so happy. And there were two great copies in hardcover. I actually do not own a copy myself and I think I am due for a re-read but I figured it would be easier to find it again than the other two that I picked up so far there.¹⁶

I am going to skip over many books but one book that I couldn’t pass mentioning is Wedgwood by Wolf Mankowitz. (See below or above for an image.) It was among ‘coffee table books’, and it is a mystery how I even spotted it, as my coffee table has different books… What made this interesting to me was that it was at the intersection of two of my interests: Pottery and evolution. Pottery part is relatively straightforward;Wedgwood is a pottery and china producer with designs that have been extremely popular in the UK, even among members of the Royal Family. I can’t say what’s so special about their designs that they can get away with selling cups for over $100¹⁷, but good for them. The way this connects to evolution is that the founder of Wedgwood, Josiah Wedgwood, was the grandfather of Charles Darwin (and his wife…¹⁸) and a good friend of Charles Darwin’s other grandfather, ’evolutionary poet’ Erasmus Darwin. Needless to say, it would have been an instant buy for me had I lived in Boston.

After these finds, I headed inside. It was even more chaotic than the lot, filled with both tourists and locals. I skipped the first floor almost entirely and made my way to the second floor. That’s when I saw one of the most exciting sights you can catch in a bookstore: a full shelf of hundreds of Loeb books, each priced at $15. Had I not already cried at the sunrise, I would have been weeping then.¹⁹ It was such a beautiful moment and I explored quite a few translations.

Next, I moved on to the science and math sections. Math was pretty ‘meh’—mostly calculus and other elementary textbooks. Science was slightly better, but still, nothing stood out.

Philosophy section was extensive but it had surprisingly few books in the analytic tradition. It had great selections for ethics and political philosophy as well as Clarendon editions of classics like An Essay Concerning Human Understanding by Locke—but I thought better of buying them.

Finally, I visited the top floor to see some of the rare books and read from old editions of some classics. With dozens of people walking around, it felt more like a museum tour unfortunately. This was probably better for my wallet and schedule; after a quick tour, I made my way to the next stop after convincing my fiends to accept me back.

Brattle is a must-visit for any book lover. With unbeatable prices and an incredible selection, you’ll leave with something—whether it’s a $1 paperback from the lot or a signed 19th-century classic. It doesn’t disappoint.

More Than Words (Visit for Beautiful, Affordable Editions)

More Than Words is a unique bookstore with a different focus from the others on this list. Located in the South End, the shop is part of a nonprofit organization that provides alternative paths for system-involved youth in the region. Most of the employees appeared to be young people in training.

The store itself is small, with a somewhat limited selection, but it’s cozy, with comfortable chairs and tables where you can easily spend hours browsing if the selection is to your taste. Most of the stock caters to a general audience, with sections on popular fiction, U.S. history, and other widely appealing topics. I wasn’t expecting to find rare academic volumes here, but I still held out hope for a few unexpected gems, especially because their online inventory seemed pretty impressive.

As it turns out, the real treasure at More Than Words lies in their beautiful editions. They have a small but lovely collection of classic works from publishers like Folio Society, Franklin Library, and Easton Press, all priced far below typical online prices.²⁰ While browsing the shelves, I came across a handsome Folio Society edition of Robinson Crusoe, a leather-bound Franklin Library copy of Aeneid, and an Easton Press edition of The Three Musketeers with gilt edges and embossed leather—books that feel like works of art in themselves. See the picture below for the “rare books” section.

I ended up buying only one book, Aeneid, and even that was slightly outside of my space budget. But I can completely imagine myself leaving the store with 10-15 of these beautiful editions.

In short, if you’re in the area and have a taste for beautifully bound classics, More Than Words is worth a quick stop. And if you’re not nearby, their online selection—which appears to be significantly larger than the in-store experience—is worth a look, though it doesn’t seem to include these special editions.