What will keep Singapore bookstores alive?
By Anthony KohPrologue will close its store this Friday with a surprise move to revive Borders which had since closed down in 2011. Evidently, economy of scale no longer guarantees a bookstore's survival.
Page One is another example. In the battle between David and Goliath, independent bookstores seem to triumph when in fact they are affected by similar problems their behemoth opponents face. Competition is fierce for all but rising rental is fiercer.
However, to save our local bookstores, we must not look at the issue just from a business point of view. Books are cultural products. So we have to look at them from a cultural perspective too.
More readers do not mean more bookstores
The general readers are less mindful of where they get their books. They value price and convenience over the experience of browsing at a bookstore. Bibliophiles, however, care more about the latter. They are readers who embrace all the physical aspects of a book and usually collect them. They love the touch and smell of it, and the possession of a nicely bound copy in their hands.
Writers are the other backbone of brick and mortar bookstores. All writers dream to see their books in print and sold in every physical bookstore. Although e-publishing is on the rise, earning a space on the shelf speaks of substance of their works. Surely, they will clamour for more physical bookstores.
The closing of mega bookstores is not all bad
Literary speaking, a bookstore is a cultural heritage. Shakespeare and Company in Paris is a classic example. It serves as a bookstore and a boarding house for aspiring writers, and remains a 120m2 bookstore since World War II.
More mega bookstores in a country do not necessarily contribute to the betterment of literary culture. It only turns the book scene into a battlefield.
Bookstores are like a temple for the intellectuals; serving arts and money at the same time is a juggle. When bookshops expand their scale and reach, they gradually lose sight of their literary mission.
A visit to a mega bookstore becomes an experience no different from shopping for clothes. The exchanges between staff and customers are mostly "yes, we have the book" or "sorry, no stock" behind the information desk. It is not that they are less knowledgeable; it is just harder for them to have a personal relationship with their customers.
A visit to an independent bookstore feels less businesslike. The decor has a literary character. If you ask the staff for book recommendation, some of them can turn into a literary motormouth.
It would be nice to have another bookstore in Singapore that is as grand as the El Ateneo Grand Splendid (3,390m2) in Buenos Aires. But if people only buy books from a bookstore because of its grandiose, it becomes less hopeful for the smaller, humble bookstores to have more supporters.
Common sense also tells us that one less mega bookstore can potentially drive shoppers to independent bookstores.
The points so far are not to say that we should celebrate whenever a mega bookstore closes down. Small bookstores can satisfy the consumption of a village or a town but a country needs mega bookstores for their range.
However, it is the independent bookstores who are in the forefront of promoting local writers and writing. Their customers are more willing to spend on unknown authors.
Both types of bookstores should therefore co-exist to complement each other for the different interests of readers and writers. But what is the right proportion to have to prevent the-big-fish-eating-little-fish scenario?
After all, there are only that many bookstores that our little red dot can sustain. Singapore is a small country but bookshops are conveniently located both in the heartland and city. Unlike in big countries where community support is strong for independent bookstores, ours have no such spirit to speak of.
Bookstores should look like bookstores
The definition of bookstore is becoming obsolete as bookstores now do not just sell books. CDs, DVDs, stationery, toys and gifts (which the industry called as "sidelines") have found their ways fast into bookstores.
Some bookstores even sell foods and beverages. Because their profit margins are higher than books, most booksellers sell them to stay afloat.
Though it makes business sense, it becomes an identity issue when customers can't tell if they are in a bookstore, a stationary shop, a gift shop or a café. It then blurs the line if we were to trace our literary footprints.
Bookstores should strive to be an arts establishment. But with rising rental, even the smallest bookstores struggle to remain in the cultural frontline.
Can the National Arts Council help by subsiding rental of independent bookstores? In return, booksellers shall pledge to promote local books and to transfer the saving to patrons.
People who care about books care about bookstores
Book lovers take extra care of their books - even when it is not theirs. Teaching people to care for books cultivates their love for real books which are the livelihood of physical bookstores. It is a habit that has to start from young.
In Read it, don’t eat it!, author, Ian Schoenherr, teaches children not to vandalise a book (scribbling on pages) or damage it through negligence (getting it wet). Parents are a child's best learning example, but adults sometimes mishandle their books too.
Just as we are taught not to take things in life for granted, we should treat books the same. Perhaps the National Book Development Council of Singapore can start a series of activities on book appreciation for both children and adults?