Street Bookselling: A Labor of Love in Spreading Culture, Overlooked but Deserving of Care

On the bustling streets of Beijing, an elderly woman makes her living selling secondhand books, standing in stark contrast to the modern high-rises of Sanlitun behind her. As factories shut down and libraries close, the once-stable jobs that defined her past have faded away. Selling books on the street, she clings to each one as a reminder of her former life and struggles to make ends meet. Amid the city’s rapid development, have some been quietly left behind? With industrial shifts and urban renewal, many former workers are forced into makeshift jobs on the streets, revealing a structural challenge that extends beyond individual hardship. While the rise of towering buildings and rapid economic growth captivate us, how do we care for those pushed to society’s margins? This question demands our collective attention. I don't know how she lives now, but I remember her parting words to me: “Stay away from spicy food; it’ll keep your skin clear.”

How Did She End Up Selling Books?

The elderly woman used to work as a librarian at the Textile Ministry Library until it closed in 1993 during a nationwide wave of layoffs. As a result of this upheaval, she lost her job, and the library, unable to pay her wages, compensated her by giving her the very books from the library’s collection. She had held onto these books for years, but now, facing hardship, she felt compelled to sell them to make ends meet.

The 1993 layoff wave marked a significant shift in China, where many state-owned enterprises underwent restructuring. Employees were laid off, losing their "iron rice bowls." The elderly woman was one of those who found herself out of work during this tumultuous time.

The Struggles of Daily Life

Every day, she earned around 50 yuan, while her husband received a pension of just over 3,000 yuan—a meager amount for survival in a bustling city like Beijing. To save money, she would forage for discarded vegetable leaves at a nearby morning market, soaking them in salt water for disinfection. Alongside half a carrot, this was the extent of their daily meals.

Concerned for my family’s well-being, she asked if my mother had paid into social security, urging me to ensure that we do. She lamented that her generation missed out on these essential benefits, leaving them without medical insurance. Sadly, she herself suffered from high blood pressure, while her husband had diabetes, necessitating regular medication. To avoid the exorbitant fees at Chaoyang Hospital, they typically went for check-ups at their local community clinic after visiting a larger hospital for tests. She recounted how major hospitals often admit patients for minor ailments, but they simply couldn’t afford the cost of hospitalization.

Respect for Knowledge

Despite the difficulties of selling books on the street, she remained committed to her craft, opting to sell individual books rather than wholesale to a book distributor. She recounted that a distributor had once offered to buy her entire collection, intending to resell it at higher prices in the Panjiayuan Market. However, she declined, unwilling to see the books sold for profit or mishandled by others. Instead, she wanted to ensure these books reached those who truly needed them. To her, selling each book was not just a transaction; it was a chance to pass on knowledge and preserve culture. Even with thin margins, she insisted that these books find their way into deserving hands.

As we chatted, a potential buyer approached. “You should buy two books for a photo; this really is hard-earned money!” she urged. “This ‘Shuo Wen Jie Zi’ is 150 yuan, and it’s the only one available—no duplicates, they’re all rare editions. And these books by Lu Xun can sell for over 200 yuan in museums.” The books, remnants of a bygone era from the Textile Ministry Library, were treasures from 80 years ago. After the library closed, she had to find a way to make a living, selling her collection to cover basic necessities like flour and rice. When she noticed someone using their nails to flip through a book, she quickly intervened, concerned about damaging the pages.

Reflection

This encounter with the elderly bookseller not only enriched my Valentine’s Day experience but also deepened my appreciation for the struggles and resilience inherent in her daily life. She embodies the pure and unpretentious lifestyle of Beijing's grassroots laborers. In this fast-paced metropolis, everyone has a story, and each story, whether joyful or sorrowful, deserves to be heard and reflected upon.

Through this blog, I hope to share her narrative with a broader audience, reminding us not to overlook those who strive quietly in life, embodying resilience and hope.