When this is Done
And the young become old
the old become elders
and elders become spirits —
and spirits, what
can be said of them?
– Ifeanyi Menkiti, Coming To America (2022)
Nestled between Harvard Book Store and TD Bank on Plympton Street lies the quaint, picturesque Grolier Poetry Book Shop. As I wrestled with the matured door handle and stepped into the small space for the first time, I immediately became overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia. I quickly felt affection towards the cramped shelves and old-book smell, the damp lighting, and the manager who promised to find me poetry that would truly speak to me. I became attached to this newfound place that felt as well-loved and worn as my favorite novel. I imagined myself sitting on its steps, poring over crisp pages, determined to discover a fascinating new poem. At the time, I was not aware of Grolier’s weekly poetry readings or the family who recently breathed life back into it. All I knew was that I wanted to learn more about this venerable house of poetry.
The cozy Grolier boasts a rich history as the “oldest continuously operated poetry bookshop dedicated solely to the sale of poetry books.” Since its opening in 1927, Grolier has remained a cultural hub for verse. When Louisa Solano took ownership in 1974, she did so as part of her “mission in life…to make sure that poetry stays alive in America.” She organized poetry festivals on Plympton Street and stocked the store’s narrow shelves with about 15,000 poetry volumes. Solano played a critical part in bringing Grolier back to life. But Grolier’s true uniqueness is in what the store has come to symbolize under the care of the Menkiti family since they took ownership in 2006. In current co-owner Ndidi Menkiti’s words, Grolier represents the “power of cultural institutions to foster community and discourse… It’s the experience and the people and the community that the art form [poetry] brings together.”
As I spoke to Carol and Ndidi Menkiti, I could feel the adoration in their voices for both the store and their loved one, Ifeanyi Menkiti. In 2006, Grolier was almost forced to close because Solano was unable to financially support it any longer. Ifeanyi Menkiti, acclaimed poet and, at the time, a philosophy professor at Wellesley College, bought Grolier with money he had saved from his real estate ventures. The poet had loved the shop for years and often spent hours on end enjoying the space. The purchase had a profound effect on the Menkiti family. His four children, particularly his youngest daughter Ndidi, came to understand poetry as a universal language that “[brings] together people from different cultures and different backgrounds.” Ifeanyi himself, according to his wife Carol, “wanted the store to be a community of poetry.” When Ifeanyi passed away unexpectedly in 2019, Ndidi and her siblings “felt a duty to help [their] mom, to continue that legacy and not let the store die with [him].”
The celebrated poet and shop owner’s legacy lives on through Grolier, a continual reminder to the Cambridge community of his impact. The shop has held multiple events that meld poetry and music together. Through street parades and crowded readings, Grolier has become a mixing pot of culture and form. Ifeanyi, despite being an immigrant from Nigeria, was deeply involved in the Cambridge arts scene and used it as an opportunity to uplift his cultural heritage. As a long-time board member of Revels, an organization that creates theatrical events, he also participated in the performing arts. Ifeanyi made his stage debut in the 2002 Spring Revels, during which he acted out guiding a cultural voyage to West Africa and performed a musical adaptation of his poem “Common Soil”.
Ifeanyi carried a heartfelt devotion to his old and new homes up until his final breath. A lifelong appreciator of the “musicality of words,” he passed away holding a pencil and paper covered in his own lyrical musings. When Carol found him, he had been “writing the first few lines of the first poem in his book, Coming to America.” The rest of his finished manuscript, which during his lifetime he had referred to as his “opening prayer,” was later found, and Grolier Poetry Press has since published it posthumously.
Alongside his poem, on the same piece of paper, Menkiti wrote the words “I love America. I love Africa.” In buying and supporting Grolier, he accomplished more than just fostering a community and building poetic bridges across cultures. He cemented a legacy here in Harvard Square and created a way for immigrants and children of immigrants to connect with the same Cambridge that he so loved.
As a daughter of two immigrants from very different countries, I have struggled with finding my sense of belonging in the U.S., despite being born here. In high school especially, poetry became a safe haven and means of expressing my own conflicted notions of identity. Stepping into Grolier now reminds me of where I am from and who I might become as a Harvard student. It’s a place where I can be sure to find words and people that I identify with—experiences that I know we will share. By the time I graduate from Harvard, Grolier will have been around for a century, its longevity evident in the crease of every page. And while the future of Grolier continuing as a stand-alone bookstore is uncertain, Ndidi assured me that Grolier will continue to be a cultural institution centered on poetry, perhaps just in a different form.
Mia Tavares ’27 (miatavares@college.harvard.edu) self-diagnosed herself with asthma after one too many uncomfortably loud sneezes in Grolier.