As a youngster, I was sent out to buy my father’s favourite weekly magazines – mostly mysteries involving ghostly encounters. As a reward I could buy myself comic books.
Then my elder siblings introduced me to new kinds of magazines: one was on novels and another was about mysteries like UFOs and ancient civilisations. I was soon addicted, but I had to find my own copies when I left home to study in Bangkok. I discovered some in bookstores, where I was also drawn to short stories and other stuff. Some could be found at school and university libraries, where I got access to thousands of titles in other subjects.
Life three decades ago was very different to now, when gadgets take up most of our free (and not free) time. With no smartphones, more people killed time by reading. I always had a book in my bag and the habit has stuck (though I also spend time scrolling on my smartphone, of course).
Learning enough of the language, I started to read English books. Needless to say, they broadened my world. Some were new to Thailand and hadn’t yet been translated into Thai. Authors like Isaac Asimov mesmerised me with their avant-garde ideas. Others, like Michael Crichton, inspired me with visions that made the fantastic sound conceivable. (When his now-famous novel “Jurassic Park” hit shelves, how many of us were convinced that we could clone a dinosaur?)
I’ve always admired bookstores that allow readers the freedom to explore their products. Only through exploration can customers discover new reading stuff. This was how I first encountered American author James Patterson and his brutal serial killers (books that perhaps help to explain why the US is more blasé about killing sprees than other developed countries). Read any novel by John Grisham and you realise why American lawyers are so fond of filing lawsuits. Dan Brown, on the other hand, hooked me with his extensive historical research.
The author’s name and the brief synopsis on the back cover is enough to draw loyal followers, but what about new readers? Without the chance to explore – mostly the first chapter – how can we get familiar with a new authors’ work?
Yes, it’s true that browsers can get careless with the copies on bookshelves. Some flip through them so quickly that I cringe, waiting for the sound of ripping paper, while others stuff them back like dirty laundry.
It’s no wonder that some stores now wrap books.
Bookstores have also changed in another way – to match the reading habits of Thais. At one time, teen and fashion magazines were the trend, fuelled by better national transport infrastructure and rising incomes. Then came the “how to” books, serving the rise of the corporate world and the ambitions of those who worked in it. Soon, demand from Thailand’s growing army of entrepreneurs saw autobiographies of rich businessmen dominate the shelves, along with teen novels featuring Japanese manga-style covers. All Thai bookstores also now offer a variety of titles translated from foreign languages, many of them guides on how to use hi-tech gadgets.
But will they all join the trend for wrapping books to prevent readers from testing their wares?
For me, stopping readers from thumbing is equivalent to shutting the door for new authors. As new authors can attract new readers, this means bookstores can only expect a shrinking number of customers. Youngsters are turning to electronic devices for their all their reading, perhaps not realising the strain this puts on their eyes. Yes, it’s true: real books are better for your eyesight. But few people know it, which means bookstores might soon disappear for good.
It’s no surprise to learn that SE-Education’s profits have been dwindling over the past few years. From Bt243 million in 2010, the chain of bookstores that reaches across Thailand saw its net profit plummet to Bt72.29 million last year.
If the trend continues, paper titles may be printed for annual book fairs alone, making fairs the only venues for book shopping aside from e-shopping sites.
That could be disastrous for Thailand. The country’s literacy rate, as measured by the World Bank, was 96 per cent in 2010. That puts us much higher than Afghanistan (32 per cent) and on par with Singapore.
But when we pause to consider that the figures refer to the percentage of people over the age of 15 who can understand simple script and numbers used in everyday life, this is no cause for celebration.
I shudder to think what Thailand’s literacy rate would be if basic knowledge of science and technology were part of the criteria.
Another cause for concern is that only a small percentage of the population is interested in learning more about Thailand’s history (let alone the history of our neighbours).
Reading inspires new ideas and new opportunities. And while it’s true that digital books offer greater convenience, research has shown that readers retain less information from scrolling e-books than they do from turning the pages of their paper equivalents.
So it would be more than just sad if all bookstores had to close their doors: it would be a serious blow to hopes of instilling a reading habit in future generations of Thais.