“It’s really becoming impossible to find a quiet spot to enjoy my book in Guangzhou. Thank you for being here, please keep fighting the good fight.” This from a customer’s note found in our bookstore’s mailbox—the bookstore I manage. We are among the few remaining in central Guangzhou. There aren’t many left fighting to keep the lights on in brick-and-mortar bookstores. There isn’t much left to illuminate our loyal patrons.

To use another example, the South China Book Festival (南國書香節) held in the Canton Fair Complex recently concluded at the end of August. The official statement says the exhibition covered forty thousand square meters, attracted nearly three million visitors, showed off two hundred thousand books, and invited 269 famous writers to host over 200 on-site events. Impressive as it sounds, the numbers are only half of what the Festival used to enjoy at its peak. Others in the publishing industry have observed that political issues have led to a dearth of new books, and factors such as shrinking demand for brick-and-mortar bookstores have led to fewer participants at the Festival. Judging from my own experience at this year’s show, besides the unwavering presence of state-owned publishing firms, the lack of new companies, new products, and new inventions is appalling. The lights grow dimmer and dimmer every year.

In the gathering dark, a rude awakening for the industry is coming like a slap in the face. Less than a month after the South China Book Festival declared the show to be a “resounding success,” Guangzhou’s internet darling bookstore, the “1200bookshop,” closed its 24-hour branch location on Tianhe North Road. A month after, the historic Hong Kong-financed UN Bookstore (聯合書店) in Zhujiang New Town also announced they’re closing. If we take into account Sanle-Wenchuang Book Shop (三樂文創書屋), which closed in August, Guangzhou has lost a major bookstore every month for the last three months.

Once upon a time, anyone could submit a request and be invited to stay overnight for free at “1200bookshop.” (Source: Ma, Chen-Chou)

With “Daddy Warbucks” in Retreat, Is It Lights Out for Guangzhou’s First 24-Hour Bookstore?

You can’t talk about “1200bookshop” without mentioning its visionary founder, Liu Erxi (劉二囍). He studied architecture in school and is a bona fide architect. He named his store “1200bookshop” because he once spent two months in Taiwan and walked 1,200 kilometers to circle the entire island by foot.

In 2014, he opened the first “bookstore that never closes” in Guangzhou. They held out for five years. To the locals, “1200bookshop” was much more than just a 24-hour bookstore. It positioned and advertised itself as a torchbearer, someone that “lit a lamp for the city.” It did everything in its power to create a cozy atmosphere: from the warm, muted color of its lights, to the kind and courteous staff, to the inspirational, “chicken soup for the soul” type of books on its shelves.

What’s more, it was not only a refuge for the weary spirit, but for the body as well. Anyone could submit a request three days prior and be invited to stay overnight in the bookstore for free. Just as impressively, “1200bookshop” was the first bookstore in Guangzhou to hire handicapped workers. I recall how I spent my first month when I arrived in Guangzhou more than two years ago. I often sat up alone at night in “1200bookshop”, enjoying a private moment of warmth and tranquility. 

As for why the branch location on Tianhe North Road closed its doors, the official statement is optimistic: it’s only because the mall the bookstore was located in is undergoing major renovations. It promises, “Guangzhou is only temporarily losing its 24-hour bookstore, but the ‘1200bookshop’ has not abandoned its plan to open around the clock, and we look forward to a bright future.” Not mentioned in this cheery declaration is whether the bookstore will return when the mall opens its doors again.

What’s more, word on the grapevine is Sunya Properties (旭亞地產), the real estate company that owns the mall, is in fact a major stakeholder in “1200bookshop.” But the branch location on Tianhe North Road had not turned a profit since opening five years ago, nor had it been demonstrably effective in attracting shoppers to the mall. Even if the company had the deep pockets and conviction of “Daddy Warbucks,” it could not justify pouring money into a failing experiment. Those in the know says after the mall is renovated, the bookstore may be replaced with a restaurant, and the entire mall will be turned into a food court. I cannot say I am surprised.

China’s Ban on Books Brought Down the Bookstore from Hong Kong

As for the Hong Kong-born UN Bookstore which closed in early October, it was the first Chinese bookstore wholly financed by Sino United Publishing (聯合出版集團), the biggest publishing conglomerate in Hong Kong. Its branch location in GT Land Plaza (高德置地廣場) in Zhujiang New Town opened in February 2016. It was three years and eight months old when it succumbed. The store’s slogan was: “From now on, be my life.” It prided itself on its modern, cosmopolitan, voguish attitude toward life. Unlike other modern bookstores bedecked with warm colors and wood furniture, UN Bookstore preferred extremely minimalistic black, white, and grey colors. Its interior design was also different from conventional bookstores. The book section merged seamlessly with the departments that sold other products, the performance area, and the in-house coffee shop “UNBookcafe.” It often hosted exhibitions and events that showcased modern dance, theater, musical performance, installation art, performance art, and so much more. In the two years from 2016 to 2017, it managed nearly 300 such shows. 

A book signing event at the height of UN Bookstore’s popularity. (Source: Ma, Chen-Chou)

The event I remember most fondly was in August 2017, when UN Bookstore invited hit millennial writers Yuan Ziwen (苑子文) and Yuan Zihao (苑子豪) to launch their new book: “Sorry I'm Also New As An Adult” (不好意思，我也是第一次當大人). Mall management estimated over two thousand fans crowded into the store that day. Local authorities had to be notified that there may be a “disturbance.” Because it’s a Hong Kong-based business, it’s no surprise that UN Bookstore often invited Hong Kong writers to visit Guangzhou to participate in launch parties or book signings. But every so often, their plans were thwarted at the last moment by the authorities, and the bookstore had to swallow the losses. 

In truth, the UN Bookstore in Zhujiang New Town was located in a mall managed by the company I’m currently work for. What’s more, they were our compatriots. I have a pretty good grasp of their business numbers, but I will not divulge any details here. Suffice to say, the main reason they shut down was because of nebulous political issues that often forced them to remove massive amounts of books they imported from Hong Kong and Taiwan. However, such books were their strong suit—due to their connection with Sino United Publishing, they could import books from Hong Kong and Taiwan faster and more cheaply, and market them to the right audience. Without this advantage, they had to stock the shelves with Chinese books, in which case they had to go through the same procurement process as any other bookstore, and so they lost the competitive edge in their products’ price and variety. 

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In less than three years, their inventory of books from Hong Kong and Taiwan dwindled from forty percent to less than ten, and the sales number plummeted as well. Judging from the data, even though UN Bookstore tried to make up for the loss by selling food and coffee, and by renting extra space to other businesses, in the end it was not enough to fill the giant gap in their revenue. 

UN Bookstore going out of business without warning left many loyal readers in disbelief. (Source: Ma, Chen-Chou)

Summary: The Closings Will Continue Unless Three Structural Problems are Fixed

When it comes down to it, bookstores in China currently face three structural problems they cannot seem to overcome:

One, the bookstores’ money mainly comes from real estate companies that want to get very rich very quickly. This pigheaded insistence on a spectacular return on their investment just doesn’t gel with the bookselling business, and so these bookstores often start with a bang but end with a whimper.

Two, even the biggest, oldest bookstores can run afoul of the authorities. One politically incorrect move and they’re looking at massive direct or indirect losses. What happened to UN Bookstore was just one example. Even Fang Suo (方所), the most famous bookstore in Guangzhou that won the Bookstore of the Year Award from the London Book Fair in 2019, was once forced to shut down for three days’ inspection and reorganization because it was caught selling “forbidden books.”

Three, low-cost online bookstores are undercutting brick-and-mortar bookstores’ ability to turn a profit. Unable to live off just selling books, these stores try to expand the variety of their services. On paper, this seems to marginally increase their revenue. But the hidden cost is often much greater than the return.

It is my humble opinion that if these three structural problems are not fixed, Guangzhou’s streak of losing a bookstore every month will not be a fluke, but merely the prelude to bookstores everywhere disappearing quietly into the night. 

Translated by Jack C.
Edited by Sharon Tseng

Crossing features more than 200 (still increasing) Taiwanese new generation from over 110 cities around the globe. They have no fancy rhetoric and sophisticated knowledge, just genuine views and sincere narratives. They are simply our friends who happen to stay abroad, generously and naturally sharing their stories, experience and perspectives. See also Crossing Arab World.

Original content can be found at the website of Crossing: 當民營書店紛紛吹熄燈號──中國一線城市或將迎來「書店倒閉潮」？

This article is reproduced under the permission of Crossing. It presents the opinion or perspective of the original author / organization, which does not represent the standpoint of CommonWealth magazine.