by Elise Nakhnikian
Half a block from Abril bookstore and print shop, on the corner of Santa Monica and Western, twisted steel and heaps of rubble lie inside the shell of a building burned during the recent riots. Down the street, another burned building turns blind eyes to the street; clothing stores, shoe stores, and pawnshops in the neighborhood were all looted. Did Harout Yeretsian, the owner of the city's oldest and best-stocked Armenian bookstore, worry that his business would go up in flames? Yeretsian hoots at the thought. "Who is going to come and take Armenian books? They are not that crazy!" he says.
The narrow, dingy store may not attract a looter, but it's a magnet to a certain segment of L.A.'s Armenian community. Whether they come to buy or to browse, they leave feeling better for having spent time surrounded by stories, history, and artwork that illuminate their lives. And no one understands that better than Yeretsian, the keen-eyed, kindly man whose love of literature and Armenian culture is the driving force behind Abril.
As a young man, Yeretsian majored in theater in Armenia and then returned to his native Beirut to work as a director. When the war broke out he moved to L.A., where he founded a cultural magazine called Abril in 1977. It was, he says, the first monthly magazine in this country to be published in Armenian. Needless to say, the magazine was no cash cow, so he began printing it himself in order to economize, earning extra money by doing jobs for other people. Before long he was in the printing business full-time and had to fold the magazine. Meanwhile, he noticed something that bothered him: only a few books by or about Armenians were published in this country, and they were all in English. "There were not lots of Armenian books, especially from Armenia," he recalls. "You know, those great poets Shiraz or Sevak . They were like heroes, and there were [none of their] books here." And so, in 1981, he took over the space next to his print shop, shipped in a load of books from Armenia, and opened a bookstore.
That was 10 years ago, but already Yeretsian sees a change in his customers. "When I started, the demand was more for Armenian books. The demand now is more in English-language books-art books, history books, not literature or Armenian poetry." He thinks this is partly because of all the people who have recently come to L.A. from Armenia, many of whom bring boxes of books with them. "And if they don't, they don't have the money [to buy books], because they are refugees." It's also harder, Yeretsian finds, for books to get people's attention here than in the old country. "In Armenia when it was under Soviet rule, people used to read every day, because life there was very quiet and they didn't have much entertainment. Here there is no single minute that you can be quiet. There is TV, movies, music, everything."
Another change Yeretsian has noticed is more customers who don't speak Armenian and want to learn. "Before, ninety-eight percent of my customers were Armenian-speaking people, but after Deukmejian was elected governor and after the earthquake, more American Armenians became interested in Armenian history, Armenian culture, Armenian problems." Still, few who come in for reference books go on to read the literature Yeretsian loves. "They want to talk and understand Armenian, that's all. The bestsellers in Armenian bookstores are English-Armenian dictionaries."
"I had hoped the alumni from Armenian day schools would be interested in reading Armenian books, but I don't think so," he adds. "They start coming when their teachers give them summer reading assignments, but usually they choose the book which is the thinnest." He laughs indulgently. "American culture is too strong; the youngsters must have too much strength to fight back, and they don't do that. They say, 'Culture is culture. We can read in English.'"
Yeretsian thinks they may have a good point. The key to revitalizing Armenian literature, he believes, is to publish in the language most people are reading. And that means, whether it's a question of translating existing works or writing new ones, "we must think a little bit like the Jews. We must write in English, but about ourselves-about the Armenian heritage. We have quite a rich heritage we can share with the world, and that we can do only when we do it in other languages."
Meanwhile, Yeretsian continues to publish a few literary works in Armenian "because I love literature, so I want to help writers. But it's a losing business because nobody buys." A losing business financially, perhaps, but there are things in life more valuable than money. And that Harout Yeretsian knows well.
