It’s a large tricycle that’s been outfitted with a plywood box that, when its creator-rider stops to engage passers-by, opens to reveal a vibrant, self-contained world of books.
“Hopefully, it’s just a fun discovery for people,” Gabriel Levinson says of his Book Bike. Weekly, he hops on board, rides into and through the streets and parks of Chicago, and expresses his love of reading by inviting anyone who sees something they like to take the book of their choosing.
Free of charge.
But Levinson recently made a discovery of his own, and one that was anything but fun.
A Good Ride Spoiled
It stands to reason that one might need a permit to hold a rally in a public park. Or to sell hot dogs. Or to sell anything for that matter. But a permit to offer people (and only the voluntarily interested and curious at that) a book for free?
A fellow bicyclist approached Gabriel in one of the city’s parks, and his initial excitement at having a nibble of interest on a slow day soon transformed into surprise and then frustration and anger.
The bicyclist turned out to be a parks department employee who informed Levinson that unless and until he has a permit on hand, he had to remove himself and the Book Bike from park property. The paperwork required would be substantial, and it would be ongoing: Chicagoist reported that in addition to the overall permit, he would need to apply separately for each intended outing. And without 501(c)(3) status, he would not be eligible for fee reductions or waivers, which would likely approach $2,000 in total.
Discouraged, Levinson went home and once again found comfort in the written word by blogging about his frustrating day in the park.
Just Who is This Guy?
Levinson, 27, tells Tonic that job titles and the like aren’t so much his cup of tea, and says that he’s happy to take on various jobs here and there to pay the bills. One of these days, he’ll probably get around to pulling together and polishing his resume.
“I guess I just have a bad problem about getting excited about things and just doing them,” he adds.
Levinson is being modest. The St. Louis native who left his hometown nearly a decade ago to attend school decided to stay put, embracing Chicago as his adopted home, racking up an impressive roster of creative and community-oriented accomplishments.
A dedicated and knowledgeable fan of the animated short film, Levinson produced The John and Bill Show in 2007, which for the first time brought together Academy Award nominee Bill Plympton and Ren & Stimpy creator John Kricfalusi to discuss and showcase their beyond-funny animated marvels. Levinson also served as tour manager for An Evening with Don Hertzfeldt (and if that name is unfamiliar, please do yourself the service of finding and watching his short film Rejected).
A former reviews editor for Make: A Chicago Literary Magazine and ongoing editor and contributor to Is Greater Than, Levinson has taught creativity workshops at the Chicago outpost of 826.org which was launched in 2002 in San Francisco by author Dave Eggers to help young students get excited about writing and to develop writing skills.
And one of those things that Levinson has been especially excited about since 2008 is his Book Bike project. Since his inaugural pedaling two years ago, Levinson has collected and distributed more than 3,000 books to Chicago’s citizens and visitors he has met while riding to and through the city’s several parks.
During his once-a-week free book distribution junkets, he explains that he’s always tried his best to be unimposing but available and welcoming to the curious.
“It’s unusual, but unobtrusive,” he says of his bike. “Granted, it’s an unusual-looking thing, but I’m not beating anyone over the head with it. Either you come up for a closer look, or you walk past.”
The Birth of the Book Bike
A dedicated participant in a Chicago literary scene Levinson describes as energetic and experimental, he’d observed nonetheless that his literary magazine had a dedicated but small subscription base. And he’d see the same faces over and again at local literary events. It’s always great to see friends, but it dawned on him that the Chicago book community might be a bit insular, and he started to ponder what could be done to lengthen the reach.
One evening with friends, perhaps while enjoying some manner of adult beverage (but not too many that he was prevented from recalling his flash of genius the following day), the idea of a roving book distribution on wheels popped into mind. The Book Bike was conceptually born.
He then wrote to 40 publishers, explaining his vision and asking for donations of unwanted or unsold volumes. To his astonishment more than 20 responded, and cartons of books soon started arriving.
“I guess I should build this bike,” he recalls thinking in reaction to the generosity and support. Without much extra cash on hand however, “like any good red-blooded American, I just went ahead and charged the thing.”
“It’s taken awhile to pay down that debt, but there’s not one moment of regret.”
Beyond his own lifelong love of the printed word and insistence that something must (and could) be done to bring more people into the book fold, Levinson shared two specific sources of inspiration behind his efforts.
He recounted getting to the last page of Dave Eggers’ What Is The What, which tells in novel form the life story of Valentino Achak Deng, a Sudanese refugee displaced by regional ethnic war. There, he found the explanation that all proceeds from the sale of the book would be dedicated to supporting The Valentino Achak Deng Foundation, a nonprofit whose mission is to improve learning opportunities in the strife-torn region. The foundation has supported the development of schools and libraries, and helped directly support Deng’s own education expenses.
“Dave Eggers didn’t take a dime. McSweeney’s didn’t take a dime. One book did that, and it blew me away that that could be done,” Levinson remarked.
Also serving to inspire his vision is the work of Luis Soriano, a primary school teacher in Columbia. His Biblioburro initiative involves traveling the Colombian countryside with a duo of book-laden donkeys, distributing literature for free.
A Few Blog Hits, Then More, and Then a Whole Lot More
With the benefit of hindsight and the passage of several days, Levinson was able to recall his encounter with the park employee who informed him that he needed a permit to operate the Book Bike in public parks, and the frustrated futility of slinking home sadly to blog about it.
“My blog has about ten regular readers, nine of whom are friends that I’ve browbeaten into reading it.”
But over the following days, he noticed the traffic picking up. And the hits kept coming. His request to read and share through social networking contacts had been taken to heart and was picking up serious steam. Local media outlet Chicagoist ran the story, and this was soon followed by national media when MSNBC picked up and ran with it.
Suddenly awash in interest, moral support and fresh donations from not only those in the Chicago community, but from around the world within mere days, Levinson was surprised how resonant his idea and passion had become with so many.
“I was simply overwhelmed by what has come back from this. I had no idea that there was this sort of support.”
And before long, the plight of Levinson and the Book Bike came to the attention of a critical institution, one well matched to help keep things rolling. When Levinson and I spoke on the phone, he had just recently received the wonderful news that the Chicago Public Library had offered to deputize the Book Bike as an official partner.
“They contacted me,” he says of the fortuitous connection with the library system. By way of what he describes as a good working relationship between the city’s parks and library departments, a simple letter on official letterhead made his bureaucratic woes as well as the expenses he was going to face disappear completely. He’s thrilled to have the seal of approval from the libraries in case any future questions arise during an outing.
“This letter says ‘he’s cool, he’s with us,” in case anyone asks in the future.
“And I don’t have to change a thing” about how he operates the Book Bike.
“I get to be the one to give out books and meet people. It’s like a vacation for me! I get to go out and hang out in the park and read and talk about books.
“It feels almost too selfish,” Levinson adds. I think I can actually hear him shrug, while I’m thinking it’s the precise opposite of selfish.
Congratulations to the Chicago library system on having selected your new partner. And, of course, congratulations to Gabriel. Tonic shares your delight that the Book Bike will live to ride another day, and countless more.
Photos courtesy of The Book Bike, used with permission.
