Remainders in Prati

No need to spend huge money,to have a good read.

There’s a certain romance in a place where books are stacked so high they seem to form their own architecture. This remainder bookstore in Rome’s Quartiere Prati is one such space — an organised chaos where towers of paperbacks and hardcovers lean against each other like old friends, and the scent of yellowed pages lingers in the air.

When I framed this photograph, I wanted to invite the viewer inside, to feel that they might squeeze through those narrow aisles and get lost in the labyrinth. The open doorway, flanked by bookstands spilling onto the pavement, works as a visual funnel. You can’t help but follow the path inward, deeper into the cluttered promise of forgotten stories.

From a technical standpoint, working in black and white was a deliberate choice. Stripping away colour reduces distraction and emphasises the texture of the worn spines, the matte and glossy covers, and the patina of years. The tonal range here is quite strong — deep blacks in the recesses of the shop, crisp whites in the plastic crates, and plenty of midtones to give form to the books’ surfaces.

The exposure balances the shadowy interior and the brighter exterior without losing too much detail in either. The depth of field is sufficient to keep the front racks sharp while allowing the stacks at the back to fall into a gentle softness, enhancing the sense of depth.

If I’m critical, the shot is busy — perhaps too busy — and the eye has to work to find a focal point. But in a way, that’s the point. This isn’t a minimalist composition; it’s a visual echo of the bookstore itself, a place where discovery comes only after rummaging.

It’s an image about abundance, about the stubborn survival of the printed page, and about the pleasure of stumbling across a title you didn’t even know you were looking for.