Books as an expensive pleasure: What does reading cost in Armenia?

2026-03-24 - 17:42

In recent years, Armenia has experienced a literary paradox. On one hand, book festivals are overflowing, reading challenges dominate social media, and new releases often sell out within weeks. On the other hand, a familiar chorus of complaints persists: “Books are too expensive,” “People don’t read anymore” and “E-books should be more affordable.” Within these contradictions, the contemporary Armenian literary field is taking shape, navigating market risks, cultural shifts and a growing community of bibliophiles. A year ago, when Mariam Manukyan launched her book blog, her personal library held only a handful of modern Armenian-language books. Today, her collection has grown to more than 300 volumes. Mariam Manukyan “I started reading in childhood, mostly using my grandfather’s library of Soviet-era editions,” she said. To bridge the gap between those classics and the contemporary literary scene, Manukyan became a regular at local libraries before deciding to invest in her own collection. While working, Mariam treated books as a line item in her monthly budget. “I set aside a fixed amount from my salary. Every month, I allocate 20,000 drams (about $50) to buy books, which buys about four Armenian-language titles on average.” Today, she is not working, but the circulation of books in her life has not stopped. “Now, every month I buy roughly the same number of books for my friends — other book bloggers. I buy for them, and they buy for me. That’s how we exchange, read and discuss,” she said. Over the course of a year, she has received around 70 books through this exchange. Mariam acknowledges a harsh economic reality: Ordering Russian-language books through online platforms is often more affordable than buying local editions. However, she views the higher price of Armenian books as a necessary investment in the language. “If a book exists in French, English or Spanish, why shouldn’t it exist in Armenian as well?” she asks. “By communicating with publishers, we’ve come to understand that if we want high-quality books in our own language, we must be prepared to pay for the craftsmanship involved.” For Mariam, book blogging is more than a hobby; it is a responsibility to build trust in Armenian-language publishing and help shape a sustainable reading culture for the next generation. Quantitative growth or visual illusion? Prose writer and literary critic Hrachya Saribekyan argues that this growth is more than just “aesthetic” posts on Instagram. Hrachya Saribekyan “A quantitative increase in readers is clearly noticeable,” Saribekyan told the Weekly. “The growing number of Armenian-language titles in bookstores and rising sales figures are proof.” However, he cautions that this growth must be viewed through a historical lens. During the Soviet era, owning a massive home library was a mandatory cultural norm. That culture collapsed in the 1990s during Armenia’s economic crisis and energy blockade. “I remember a time when books were tragically used as fuel for stoves,” he said. According to Saribekyan, the situation began to change significantly in the 2010s, especially in 2012, when Yerevan was declared the World Book Capital by UNESCO. In his view, that period became a turning point. He said that before 2011, direct translations of foreign literature from original language were far fewer. For instance, one of the largest publishing houses, Antares, had only a few translated titles — seemingly just two: The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway and short stories by Julio Cortázar. Moreover, the former had been translated from Russian rather than the original. “Now, just look at how many translated books the same publisher has,” Saribekyan said. Later, numerous programs were developed, book festivals and fairs were organized, and direct translations from original languages expanded significantly. In his view, for contemporary readers — especially teenagers and young adults — not only content but also a book’s appearance matters: the cover and even the typeface. “The new generation has a new reading culture and new expectations. They generally do not want to read old Soviet editions. They prefer modern fonts, looser layouts and stylish design, often paperback editions that are more affordable, lighter and easier to carry. While reading, they may casually bend pages and make the book their own. They are not obsessed with collecting books and can easily part with one they have already read,” Saribekyan said. He offered a personal example: “My son did not want to read old Armenian editions of [American novelist] Dreiser; he preferred a newer print in another language.” The “bestseller” and the price of intellect In the modern Armenian market, the “bestseller” is king. But as literary critic Hrachya Saribekyan points out, sales figures are not a proxy for quality. “A bestseller simply means a book that sells well,” he said. While publishers like Newmag lean heavily into global hits and Zangak translates authors such as Dan Brown and Stephen King, Saribekyan likens the literary landscape to music: Pop will always have a larger audience than opera. However, the rise of mass-market fiction does not mean high art has vanished; it has simply moved to narrower, more specialized circles. The challenge today is attention. Competing with cinema, social media and gaming, literature often compromises. Saribekyan said modern readers, overloaded by constant digital information, avoid “straining the brain,” preferring fast-moving plots over deeply developed character studies. He argued this tendency reflects broader human behavior, even within the relatively small reading public. As a result, more intellectual and profound literature remains confined to limited circles. “Today’s reader prefers fast-moving plots — action and thrillers — rather than deeply developed characters. Meanwhile, more refined and intellectual detective novels are often overlooked because they unfold slowly and require mental engagement,” he said. The true cost of a page The debate over whether books have become an expensive pleasure is a constant friction point in Armenian society. For Hrachya Saribekyan, however, the argument is misplaced. He insists that the intrinsic value of a book — the months or years of intellectual and spiritual labor — always outweighs its price. “It’s clear that a book has its own intrinsic cost,” Saribekyan said. “Paper is expensive, and editors, translators and designers must be paid. Bookstores also take a commission. But saying books are expensive is a cheap remark, unworthy of someone who truly values literature.” To Saribekyan, price is secondary to the quest. He recounted an anecdote: “I once said I would walk from Yerevan to my hometown of Vanadzor — about 120 kilometers — if the book I dreamed of was waiting there.” For passionate collectors, he said, a high price can be a badge of honor — a testament to the lengths one will go to possess a piece of intellectual history. However, Saribekyan’s romanticism is grounded in a harsh financial reality for the creators themselves. When asked whether a writer can survive in Armenia on literary royalties alone, his answer was a definitive “No.” Unless an author is a runaway bestseller, the math simply does not add up. “When people complain that a book costs 3,500 drams (about. $9), they forget the author receives only 10% to 15%,” he explained. By the end of the year, that may amount to just a few tens of thousands of drams. Intellectual work, he said, remains undervalued. An analysis of prices listed on the official websites of Newmag, Zangak and the Epigraph bookstore shows the following: The average price of books published by Zangak is 4,355 drams ($11.55), at Epigraph it is 4,368 drams ($11.59), while Newmag’s average price is higher at 6,726 drams ($17.85). The calculation included books priced above 10,000 drams and those costing as little as 500 drams ($1.33), except for Newmag’s selection. These figures suggest different pricing strategies within the market. Zangak and Epigraph maintain relatively affordable averages, while Newmag appears positioned higher, focusing on premium-format publications in both content and production. Publisher’s calculus: Production, risk, marketing To understand why a book in Yerevan may cost more than a similar title in Moscow or New York, one must consider what can be called the publisher’s calculus. Gnel Nalbandyan, editor-in-chief at Newmag, said a book’s price reflects research, production quality and market scale. Gnel Nalbandyan He said a book’s price cannot be viewed in isolation. For example, Niall Ferguson’s The Square and the Tower cannot be compared with standard classical literature, given the decades of research behind it. Speaking about e-books, Nalbandyan said they have not yet become a viable alternative in Armenia. In his assessment, the issue is not only technical but also cultural and behavioral. “In Armenia, people do not pay for electronic literature. If a book becomes available digitally, the printed version will likely remain unsold,” he said. Under these conditions, the development of e-books is not considered economically viable, as it could reduce print sales without generating compensatory digital revenue. He also noted that the Armenian-language market is small, with print runs of 1,000 to 1,500 copies. In contrast, in Russia the same author may reach 30,000 copies, significantly lowering unit costs. As an example, he mentioned Agatha Christie: An Armenian hardcover edition may cost about 4,000 drams, while a Russian version can be significantly cheaper due to scale. He added that a 20-page children’s book may cost more than a 300-page book, because of high-quality color printing. Newmag’s editor-in-chief said the Armenian-language market also includes exclusive, “elite” editions. For example, the complete poetry collection of Charles Aznavour is priced at 38,800 drams (about $103). He described it as a special gift edition that includes five autobiographical works, a collection of short stories and four volumes of the artist’s poetry. Nalbandyan said the publication is produced with high-quality materials, a hardcover format and careful design, offering readers a premium experience. Selling books in Armenia, he said, is always a risk. “If they don’t sell, we run promotions — 30% discounts or ‘buy three, get the fourth free,’” Nalbandyan said. He said that during Newmag’s Winter Book Festival this year, the company welcomed 15,000 visitors in 10 hours. Discount strategies not only boost sales but also help build a sense of community around books. “We produce trailers for every book, organize large-scale presentations and involve television companies,” he said. As an example, he cited a book by Henrikh Mkhitaryan, priced at 7,800 drams (about $20) with partner support. Without that backing, he said, it could have cost twice as much. Nalbandyan also pointed to the challenges facing regional libraries. With annual budgets of just 15,000 to 30,000 drams (about $40 to $80), many are unable to update their collections. “In partnership with others, we donate 500 books to community libraries and organize meetings with authors in cities like Kapan, Gyumri and Vanadzor. That brings life back to libraries,” he said. These initiatives show that the book market is not only about sales but also about cultural policy and long-term investment in readership. Everyday life in the bookstore Hayk Smbatyan, who has worked in a bookstore for many years, describes the daily scene: “We have customers of all ages. Some are readers; others are not. Sadly, some buy books simply as gifts. For example, on Tumanyan’s birthday, often celebrated as Book-Giving Day, someone may come in, pick a random book and leave,” Smbatyan explained. He recalled the Russia-Ukraine war, when many people arrived in Armenia from Russia. Smbatyan said that despite financial difficulties, some Russians spent 15,000 to 20,000 drams (about $40 to $53) per month on books. “People like that are not common in Armenia,” he said. He added that customers often do not realize how much work goes into producing a book, including translation, editing and design. “Some customers are willing to pay 4,000 to 5,000 drams (about $11 to $13), but not more,” Smbatyan said. “Some books create a boom for a year and then are forgotten. Others have been sold for 500 years. Even if only 10 copies are sold each year, over 500 years those are the real bestsellers,” Saribekyan said. In Armenia, a book is both a commodity and a form of cultural capital. It is shaped by discounts, marketing strategies and partnerships, but it also builds community, memory and thought. Whether reading culture continues to grow depends not only on prices or festivals, but on society’s willingness to value intellectual labor.