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ｓｔａｆｆ　ｒｅｐｏｒｔｅｒ　ＬＩＵ　ＱＩＯＮＧ

FOR over 1,000 years the Chinese have extolled the virtues of reading with the saying: “There are houses of gold and girls of jade in books.” That is literally true today, but more so for the writers than the readers.

Post-80s Bestsellers

At the end of 2007, Beijing reporter Wu Huaiyao posted a self-calculated ranking of Chinese writers according to the authors estimated incomes. A previous list had been published in 2006, but it was the 2007 rankings that immediately stirred up a hornets nest in the nations literary circles. This was due to the massive earnings attributed to certain youthful “post-80s” writers. The rock star-like Guo Jingming, 25, was perched at first place with estimated accumulated earnings of RMB 11 million. In contrast, many of his more established older peers didnt make the list at all.

Guo only published one book in 2007, River of Grief, about intricate love affairs among four young Chinese urbanites. Sales exceeded 1 million copies within a week of its release, surpassing everyones expectations, including those of the author. “Its a record for me. Previously it took a year or so to reach the 1 million mark,” Guo said at the time. He had little idea, however, that a bigger record was afoot; sales exceeded 2 million copies in less than a month.

In fact, 2007 was a good year all around for Guo financially. He made more money than the previous five years combined. So far, Guo has published over a dozen novels, including the 2003 bestseller City of Fantasy. He has also launched the magazine Zui Xiaoshuo (Top Stories), with himself as editor-in-chief.

Guo is not the only 20-something on the rich writer roll. The other contender is 27-year-old Han Han, who raked in RMB 2.8 million just from his latest work, Day of Honor. The book is Hans sixth. The writer made rivals mouths water when he managed to extract a royalty rate of 20 percent from his publisher (an average rate is 8 to 10 percent) and a fabulous first print run of 700,000 copies. Day of Honor has been described as a fusion of realism and fantasy, peppered with Hans distinctive humor and cynicism.

A Fortune-making Formula

“I am a super fan of yours, and one of the lonely souls in this world. After others leave in silence, I have to go on the journey alone. Your book is the only accompaniment. Thanks.” This is typical of the adoring messages left by readers on Guo Jingmings Website. Like other “post-80s” writers, Guo owes his sweeping success to a legion of fans his own age.

Its not surprising these literary stars are loved, or even worshipped, by their contemporaries. Their stories are set in present-day China and revolve around youth issues such as romance and school life. The language is hip, witty and sassy. Between the lines they express many youths thoughts about the present and future. Teachers slate these books as coarse and shallow, but students love them, hailing them as expressions of individuality.

Theres no doubt marketing tactics also play a role in the popularity of these young writers. Guo, for instance, is known for his distinctive appearance –­­ the handsome wordsmith sports dyed hair and earrings – and film-star-like signing events around the nation. During the Xian stop on his promotional tour for River of Grief, frantic autograph seekers formed a queue 100 meters long. In Chengdu, Sichuan, crowds spilled out of the bookstore where the signing session was taking place and blocked the surrounding streets. In Deyang, another city in Sichuan Province, armed police were called in to maintain order. The scene in Qingdao, Shandong Province, was equally riotous. A boy screamed “I love you Guo Jingming!” while trying to straddle the barrier to reach his idol. In city after city, stocks of River of Grief completely sold out in Guos wake.

The golden boy of Chinas book industry, Guo has never denied the impact of image and marketing, but rejects claims this is all that makes his books sizzling hot. “The writer must display some competence, or the marketing tactics simply wont work.” And Guo insists that sales figures are not the only benchmark of a writers merits. He has no desire to churn out books that are commercially viable but without literary merit, or vice versa. In his opinion all writers aspire to both decent incomes and wide critical recognition that will stand the test of time.

His remarks are sniffed at by others in the business, however. “The success of young writers like Guo Jingming has little to do with how good their writing is,” states well-known critic He Sanpo. “The key is that they cover the life of todays youth, an area their colleagues of an older age are not familiar with.”

Like it or not, the dazzling success of the post-80s writers has won them a niche in Chinas literary mainstream. Last year, several of them, including Guo, were admitted to the Chinese Writers Association, the club of Chinas literary elite.

Balancing Art and Commerce

Whether the annual list of Chinas richest writers should even exist has been widely and vehemently debated since its debut in December 2006. Zhang Ning, a book critic and member of the Chinese Writers Association, is among the lists vocal opponents. “Commercial writing and serious writing are two different things,” he asserts. In his view, the writers on the list are not working in literature at all. The only purpose of their writing is to woo buyers and entertain them. “Popular books have great market potential. But the public has to be aware that they are different from literature.”

According to Zhang, popular books are simply slews of duplicates that wont risk deviating from the formula fans demand. In contrast, serious writing consciously makes an incessant effort to reinvent itself in its use of diction, form and plot.

Wu Huaiyao, the producer of the richest writers list, denies the accusation frequently leveled at him that he is gauging artistic achievement by the yardstick of money. “My intention in making the list is to prod Chinas writers to do some self-examination.” He agrees “a rich writer is not always a good writer. And a good seller may not be a classic.” To appease his critics, Wu also unveiled a list of Chinas most competent writers in September 2007, dominated by senior authors.

Historically, writing in China has never been a lucrative vocation. In the past, writers were content with, or even proud of, their financial misery. It was seen as a telling testimony to their spiritual loftiness. But changing times mean most contemporary Chinese dont see any contradiction between prosperity and integrity.

Yi Zhongtian, for example, is a history professor who has garnered fame with his televised talk-show-style lectures on historical events and figures. He has also published a collection of his lectures. Its said that when he heard he had moved from seventh to third place on the richest writers list in 2007, he cheered and declared, “Ive made progress!”

“The developed nations have demonstrated that art and commerce are not antithetical, and artistic creation cannot be isolated from the market,” argues Wu Huaiyao. “Chinese writers must face the question of how to produce works of both market and literary value.” It seems the question of how to balance art and commerce, so long faced by creative figures in the West, is now hitting Chinas creative class with a vengeance.