Rediscovering the Library

Story Of Li Donglai

My name is Li Donglai, and I am the director of the Dongguan Library. I have worked in libraries for forty years. I studied library science, and I have devoted my life to library work.

During the Dragon Boat Festival in 2020, a message left by a reader named Wu Guichun, who was from Hubei, moved countless people online. He wrote, “I have lived in Dongguan for seventeen years, and for twelve of those years, I’ve been coming to the library. Looking back on my life here, the best place has always been the library.”

Wu’s message made many people reexamine the value of public libraries. For us, it also raised a constant question — what kind of public library should we build?

Before coming to Dongguan, I worked at the Liaoning Provincial Library. In 2002, I was recruited to Dongguan as a talent introduction. What attracted me most was the design blueprint of Dongguan Library’s new building.

The new library would have a total area of 45,000 square meters — at that time, the largest among all prefecture-level cities, even larger than many provincial libraries. I thought, perhaps many of my ideas could finally be realized here.

On September 28, 2005, the new library officially opened. During the following National Day holiday, in just seven days, we received more than 100,000 visitors.

Why did our library become so popular immediately? I think it’s because, for three years, we had been asking one question: how can a library connect with everyone? How can we make more people want to walk in?

We decided that the first thing to do was to make citizens feel that the library is a place anyone can enter.

That’s the most important part — to get people to walk in. It doesn’t matter what they do once they come in. They don’t have to read or study. They can enjoy the air conditioning, drink some water, sit and rest, or even play games.

We designed many specialized libraries to meet different needs. Each has a story behind it, but today I’ll share only one — the story of the Comics Library.

While planning for the new building, we often held informal lunchtime talks. One day, two young librarians said, “We love reading comics. It would be great if the library had comic books.”

It was 2004. At that time, there were few quality comic books in mainland China; most that children could buy were poorly made. Accessing e-books online wasn’t easy either, and original printed comics were expensive. So we thought, building a comics library might really mean something.

I asked the librarians to do a survey — to see how many comic books were published and available on the market, and whether citizens actually liked to read them. The results showed that 80% of people liked reading comics, not only children but also adults.

Among our own collection, comic books such as Wanderings of Sanmao, Double Cannon, and Laozi Says had extremely high borrowing rates. Newspapers like Satire & Humor and Comic Humor Digest were also popular.

Our librarians discovered that no dedicated comics library yet existed in mainland China.

So we decided to create one in Dongguan. At that time we were still in the old library. We spent six months preparing, purchasing a large number of high-quality original comics, and built the first comics library in mainland China — in a small room with 25 seats.

On opening day, more than 50 children crowded inside. Some even shared a single stool because they didn’t want to leave.

When the new library opened in 2005, we added comic and animation elements to the decoration. The Spider-Man-themed space became one of children’s favorite spots for photos.

Later, we renovated again — turning it into an even better environment.

When we first decided to build the Comics Library, there were many doubts. Some people said, “If you let in so many kids, won’t it get noisy?” I replied, “It’s wonderful for children to grow up close to libraries.” Noise is inevitable. We could strengthen management, divide spaces, and guide readers. We even had volunteer junior librarians — children guiding other children — which worked quite well. Silence isn’t realistic, but harmony is possible.

Different floors serve different functions. Those who want quiet reading or academic research can go to the fourth-floor research area.

Over time, many who first came to read comics became the library’s most loyal readers. That, I think, shows the success of the Comics Library.

In 2006, we held Dongguan’s first Comics Festival. Since then, we’ve hosted a comics carnival every year — each time drawing large crowds.

Picture books are the main reading material for preschool children. Many parents now value early reading, so we have invested heavily in picture book libraries.

We opened 18 branch picture book libraries — in one primary school, three kindergartens, four communities, and ten towns — so parents and children could read together nearby without traveling far.

Our Children’s Library also has its own features. It’s located in the old city, next to both a primary school and a park. Since many grandparents come to pick up their grandchildren, we built an Elderly Library inside the same building.

Besides the Comics Library and Picture Book Libraries, we have Cantonese Opera Library, Toy Library, and over a dozen other themed sections.

To build a good public library, you must consider not only people’s different reading needs but also their different times of need.

I’m from the north, and when I arrived in Dongguan, I discovered that street food stalls were still bustling even at two or three in the morning. Dongguan is a manufacturing city: two-thirds of its workforce are factory workers who often work shifts.

Our library’s opening hours were 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Near closing time, readers often said, “Could you stay open a bit longer?” I thought — restaurants and banks offer 24-hour service; why can’t libraries? If readers need it, we should find a way.

In 2004, we visited Hong Kong Central Library, where dozens of self-service machines were already in use. We were impressed, but we thought we could go further.

When we returned, we cleared a street-facing room, placed books, newspapers, and magazines inside, added tables and chairs, and set out to create a 24-hour self-service library.

People asked, “Doesn’t it need night staff?” We combined self-check machines, magnetic gate control, and our business management system. That solved the problem.

So in 2005, when our new library opened, China’s first 24-hour unmanned self-service library opened with it.

In 2007, we launched the country’s first library self-check machine — like a “library ATM.”

Reader messages showed how much people loved the 24-hour service.

By 2015, we expanded the self-service library from less than 200 to nearly 700 square meters, transforming it into a modern learning space.

Now, not only the main library but also many branches across Dongguan have 24-hour self-service libraries. Across China, nearly all newly built libraries now include 24-hour zones as a standard feature.

A public library’s doors should be open to everyone — even those who cannot come in person. For that, we created the Bookmobile service.

In 2004, our library was small and had only one 10-year-old Jinbei van. So we dismantled some seats, added sliding book drawers, tested for safety, and turned it into our first-generation mobile library. It could hold about 1,500 books, along with folding tents and shelves.

In March 2004, we drove it to a city square for its first service day. We issued 77 new library cards, lent 80 books, received 4 returns, and distributed 1,500 flyers.

The results impressed the government so much that they funded a second-generation bookmobile, converted from a mid-sized bus. It ran fixed routes like a bus, serving readers across the city.

In 2012, the city funded a third-generation bookmobile, larger and more advanced, with self-service equipment and space for 5,000 books — and room for over ten readers to read inside.

We drove it everywhere: to factories like Xu Fuji, to military bases, to coastal defense stations, even to prisons. Through this, people who couldn’t visit the library could still access books.

Libraries must also serve special groups. During the pandemic, entrance required QR scanning — but for elderly visitors without smartphones, we offered manual registration.

We worked with disability associations to send audiobooks to the visually impaired and train them in computer use so they too could enjoy library services.

We run a Citizen Lecture Hall. The speaker here is Professor Qian Xun from Tsinghua University — son of the scholar Qian Mu and co-author of The Analects Reader.

I especially love one photo. It shows an old man and a young man sitting casually on the floor. We thought — this is the most natural posture of humans. There’s nothing inappropriate about it.

There’s also something unique in the photo — something that, as far as I know, exists nowhere else in the world. We designed and custom-made it ourselves: a small double-sided desk board attached to each seat.

Each seat has two folding boards, one on the left and one on the right. Why? Because while most people write with their right hand, some are left-handed. We wanted to add that bit of thoughtful care that librarians can give.

To make more citizens love reading, we organized many reading promotion activities. For instance, we combined QR codes and e-books into a city-wide campaign called “Scan to Read.” Posters were placed in parks, subways, corridors, neighborhoods, and airports — anywhere people might scan and read instantly.

Our efforts have helped shape the city’s reading atmosphere. On Dangdang’s “Ten-Year Book Fragrance 50 Cities” list, Dongguan ranked ninth, and in 2019’s reading index ranking, it was second among all prefecture-level cities.

Everything I’ve mentioned so far is the visible side of library service. But a library isn’t only a space for storing books — it’s also a center of knowledge organization, management, and production.

One major task is document development. Over eight years, we edited and published the five-volume Complete Works of Lun Ming, and this year we released the three-volume Lun Ming Studies.

Why Lun Ming? Because he represents Dongguan — a famous bibliophile and Peking University professor who spent his life continuing the Siku Quanshu. His family of five brothers included four graduates of the Imperial University, reflecting Dongguan’s scholarly tradition.

We also compiled Comics Bibliography, Picture Book Bibliography, and Cantonese Opera Bibliography. Through these, we know exactly how many comics and picture books have been published — the kind of groundwork a library should do.

After learning about our work, the American Library Association, the world’s oldest and largest, established an International Innovation Award in 2008 — and granted its first award to Dongguan Library.

We’ve always kept the tradition of reader messages. Here’s one from our 2005 opening year:

“The library is like a harbor. Everyone can come in to seek knowledge, take shelter from wind and rain, or simply rest.

Dongguan Library — a library that belongs to everyone.”

So, returning to the first question: what kind of public library should we build?

I believe — a library that belongs to everyone.

A library that treats everyone equally.

Many people don’t yet realize how much libraries have changed. They think such spaces don’t exist nearby. But in fact, China now has many well-equipped, well-run libraries. I hope people will discover them and make use of them.

I first encountered a library when I was in elementary school. I think I was lucky. And I believe, the earlier you discover the library, the luckier you are.

Thank you.