DOESTOYEVSKY AND A DECAF

By GINIA BELLAFANTE

Virtual eons ago, when people still socialized over martinis and not via modems, reading was a solitary pastime confined largely to the bedroom and the backyard. Call it a paradox of the online age-or maybe a backlash against it -- but book reading has suddenly gone aggressively public. The old-fashioned bookstore has been transformed into a convivial hang-out spot where customers can get cappucino, conversation, and a cushy chair for perusing the latest Elmore Leonard or the earliest Dostoyevsky.

In a culture where book reading is supposed to be an endangered habit, it is an oddly heartening sight. By the end of the year, the U.S. will have more than 450 sprawling, chain-run book emporiums equipped with reading tables, sofas, club chairs and coffee bars. Well over 100 new ones sprang up in 1994; seven will open this year in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, alone. These superstores, run by such chains as Barnes & Noble, Borders and Media Play, usually stock around 100,000 titles (in contrast to 20,000 for a typical mall store). But the real attraction is the opportunity to cuddle up with your favorite volume for as long as you want. Far from shooing away loiterers, these superstores operate on the philosophy that by creating an inviting atmosphere, they can lure customers who will linger and eventually plunk down their money.

"The important thing these days is to get the customer relaxed," says Wally Vliet, the manager of Media Play in downtown Denver. "A coffee bar helps build traffic. It would be conspicuous by its absence." Leonard Reggio, ceo of Barnes & Noble, pioneered the superstore concept in New York City five years ago and always envisioned it as a local gathering place. "You can't really hang around a Linens 'n Things or a Today's Man," he reasons. "When you go into a bookstore, you are going to meet people like you."

Jack McClintock, a free-lance writer from Miami, understands that motive well. Every afternoon he takes his craving for caffeine and company, along with an unfinished manuscript, to the new Borders in the city's north end. "Bookshops with coffee bars are unlike restaurants, where you can't move around, and libraries, where you can't talk," he explains. Notes Ted Marrone, a Denver superstore habitua: "You can't find a better buy in entertainment." Geoffrey Richards, a Chicago law student, also heads for his neighborhood Borders with more than John Grisham novels on his mind. "Maybe you spot someone looking at a book on Rubens. It's a great, innocent way to meet people."

Those too shy to approach a potentially special someone in the art-history aisle needn't worry though. Superstores increasingly play host to organized social events aimed at enticing lovelorn customers. Singles nights are a staple at many Barnes & Noble stores; the functions may feature a lecture by a romance-novel author or a relationship counselor. Some stores offer chess matches, Scrabble and backgammon games, as well as reading groups and open-mike nights for new poets in search of an audience. Borders stores even feature live bands.

In smaller towns superstores are providing a welcome -- and previously unknown -- burst of urban energy. Borders opened a store in rural Lancaster, Pennsylvania (pop. 55,550), in late 1992, and it is now the most popular spot in town, with its Saturday-night musical performances. "There are no major museums or galleries here," says Trudi Musselman, a management consultant who used to live in New York City. "When Borders opened, it was a godsend. I go there now before the library."

Independent book purveyors have been forced to find innovative new ways to compete with the huge selections and frequent discounting of the superstores. At Nickleby's in Columbus, Ohio, owner Palmer Cook maintains an antique tub for children to play in, as well as a bakery. One of the nation's best-regarded bookstores, Tattered Cover in Denver, bumped its biography and cooking sections off the first floor last November to accommodate a gourmet snack bar where visitors down cannoli and blueberry cheesecake while they pore over the latest hardcovers. Earlier this month owner Joyce Meskis went a step further and opened a swank restaurant on the store's fourth floor, offering specialties like vegetable torta and grilled venison.

Does the lure of a fine patisserie or the whiff of a Tuscan supper translate into greater book sales? They seem to. More than 980 million adult books were sold in 1993 (the last year for which figures are available), 64 million more than the previous year, and superstores report that their sales are growing 15% a year on average. "The great advantage to the superstores is simply that they buy more titles," says Roger Straus, president of the venerable publishing house Farrar Straus & Giroux. "More books in the best-seller echelon are being sold, and it would be unfair to say that the first-time novelist will be hurt by superstores."

Of course, not everyone is sold on the superstores. Small independent bookshops complain that the national chains have encroached on their more personalized local businesses. Some book lovers too feel these commercial giants have spoiled things by turning book buying into a mass-market experience. "You hear the clanking of cups and people waiting for tables," says Susan Moriarty, a Denver-based travel writer. "It's all too frenzied. I don't want to get picked up in a bookstore. Bookshops," she adds, "used to be a private thing between you and a book." How quaint.

--WITH REPORTING BY JULIE GRACE/CHICAGO, GEORGIA HARBISON/ NEW YORK, LISA TOWLE/RALEIGH AND RICHARD WOODBURY/DENVER

With reporting by JULIE GRACE/CHICAGO, GEORGIA HARBISON/NEW YORK, LISA TOWLE/RALEIGH AND RICHARD WOODBURY/DENVER