Bookstores big and small: The Manila scene

Florianne Jimenez

This is AI generated summarization, which may have errors. For context, always refer to the full article.

Have you checked your friendly neighborhood bookstore lately? How do you feel about the ones who have closed down?

People can spend hours inside one, browsing and buying, or just feeling at home. RAPPLER/Katherine Visconti

MANILA, Philippines – When I went to the US as a kid, there was a destination that made me even giddier than Disneyland: the bookstore. As long as there was a Borders or a Barnes and Noble in sight, we had to go in. The ones in the US were just so BIG — much bigger than National Bookstore in Katipunan or Powerbooks in Megamall.

I was blown away by the fact that they had chairs everywhere so I could sit and read all day if I wanted to; that the clerks knew where to find things; and that none of the books were shrink-wrapped. Because of the excellent quality of their stores, I thought that bookstores over there would never die.

Fast forward some 15 years later, and those big bookstores are closing. People have started blaming the e-book for the death of print and lamenting the loss of the physical book and the brick-and-mortar stores that peddled them. As people begin moving towards tablets and mobile reading, we begin to wonder whether there’s still a place in our culture for the bookstore. 

Size matters: The chain bookstore

ONE WAY FOR BOOKSTORES TO GET CUSTOMERS IS BOOK SIGNINGS. Fans are often required to buy a brand new copy of an author’s book if they want to get it autographed. Photo from the Fully Booked Facebook page

In the Philippines, at least, the death of big bookstores has been much slower. I haven’t noticed any getting shut down, but they’re definitely taking a hit, especially in terms of store size.

The formerly huge Fully Booked in Rockwell has been taken over by Muji and Make Room. Half of Powerbooks in TriNoma is now a bistro. Yet they sell the same number of books in the same space, making them unspeakably tight. Once, a portly friend of mine got stuck in-between the aisles of a National Bookstore and had to be pushed out, Winnie-the-Pooh-style, by his companion. 

The big bookstores can make money because, well, they’re big — they have years of corporate resources behind them. It’s easy for them to have warehouse sales, bargain tables, and frequent shopper cards, which bring in customers. Also, they can sell other products: isn’t that why half (or sometimes more than half) of National Bookstore branches are all school supplies?

Yet despite the relative strength of our local bookstore chains, they seem to be scrambling to catch up with large changes in publishing.

Pleasure but no profit: The boutique bookstore

WHERE TO FIND HARD-TO-FIND. Popular Bookstore is a great place to visit if you’re looking for local, hard-to-find titles. Photo from the Popular Bookstore Facebook page

A type of bookstore that is nearly extinct is the small bookstore: the small retailer of brand new books. There’s something about going into a small bookstore that makes one feel rewarded. You can’t match the intimacy of a bookstore where the owner/manager is also cashier/re-shelfer/book suggester/whatever else needs doing, and where the selection is limited but well-curated.

The best small bookstore used to be Ink and Stone, tucked into the back of Podium’s first floor. The space was unbearably tiny — the portly friend would’ve had trouble there, too. The selection was a good mix between mainstream bestsellers (because let’s face it, we all need to make money) and relative unknowns.

The other small bookstores I remember — Libreria on Tomas Morato (and then Cubao Shoe Expo, for a short while) and Aeon books in Loyola Heights — are now closed. Popular Bookstore on Tomas Morato, which used to take up a two-storey retail space, is still open but is half its former size. 

These small boutique bookstores seem to be dying at a much faster rate than the big chains. I suspect that the pleasurable experience of browsing and the excellent selection at small bookstores don’t always translate into profit. After all, browsers don’t bring in money — they can browse at your shop for hours and not get a book.

And if National Bookstore or Powerbooks can order the same rare book online and get it to you within a couple of weeks, does it still matter where you bought it?

Joy in disarray: The secondhand bookstore

ORGANIZED CHAOS. BookayUkay Libruhan on Maginhawa is an institution among students who love to read. Aside from a wide array of fiction, they also carry zines and self-published books by local authors. Photo from the Bookayukay Libruhan Facebook page

Then there’s the other kind of small bookstore: the secondhand bookshop. The appeal of the secondhand bookstore is the sheer disorder: you enter the store with no objective or title in mind, merely thinking “Why not take a look around?”

Sometimes they’re organized by genre, sometimes completely at random — whatever the arrangement, the secondhand bookstore carries no expectations of its stock. There’s nothing like stumbling upon a book you’ve been looking for at the bottom of a pile in a dinky old Booksale, and getting it for half the price to boot.

Random tip: I’ve been told that the seedier the location of the Booksale, the better the books are. I’ve yet to confirm this, since I have no interest in exploring the seedy corners of Metro Manila, but it makes sense. Since fewer people would frequent an oddly located branch, there’d be more books left over for determined bookhunters.

The best secondhand bookstores are located near or in schools. These stores know their clientele well and stock their shelves accordingly. They’re even willing to take “requests” (“Kuya, pa-text ako pag may bagong David Sedaris!”) at no extra charge. These stores are often more cramped than your boutique stores, and less comfortable — don’t expect air conditioning. 

With all these choices available, does it really matter where you buy your books? Personally, I don’t think so. Whether you want to go big, boutique, or secondhand, you’re still handing money over to a local business, and enriching yourself at the same time.

No matter where you bought it from, or whether it’s old or new, the world inside a book will always be there for you. – Rappler.com

Add a comment

Sort by

There are no comments yet. Add your comment to start the conversation.

Summarize this article with AI

How does this make you feel?

Loading
Download the Rappler App!