Right around Mid-Autumn Festival, veteran Sinorama reporter Eric Lin traveled to China to catch the opening of the Beijing International Book Fair. En route, he also visited Shanghai and Hong Kong, and in all three cities he saw the dazzling success of "light literature" from Taiwan in the mainland market, and was also amazed by the rapid development of the PRC publishing industry. Even as the evolving "greater Chinese economic circle" is absorbing everyone's attention, another cross-strait realignment and integration is taking place that is equally profound-the formation of a "greater Chinese cultural circle."

If you want to talk economics, Taiwan, with its half-century head start, has long been an object of envy and study on the PRC side. But in terms of culture, Taiwan has "shallow roots and sparse foliage," and by no means holds such a clear advantage. To be sure, Taiwan has cultural celebrities like Jimmy, Wang Wenhua, and Liu Yung, but mainland authors like Yu Qiuyu, Wang Anyi, and Mo Yan have likewise deeply touched the hearts of Taiwan readers. As Taiwan and the PRC meet nose-to-nose in publishing, each side possesses certain strengths.

Perhaps the most unsettling, or perhaps impressive, things about the mainland publishing industry derive from the fact that all publishers are state-owned. Not only can they control publication of books through the use of book registration numbers (shuhao), they are adapting to the market pressures brought by WTO entry by organizing large publishing groups at the provincial level. Moreover, it is national policy to strengthen the publication of books of low commercial value that focus on basic knowledge and information. This is in sharp contrast to the situation in Taiwan, where large numbers of publishers, facing the pressures of making a profit, must adopt a more shortsighted attitude. In this cross-strait contest between "mass popular literature" on one side and "knowledge discourses" on the other, will Taiwan merely enjoy surface glory while the mainland solidifies its control over the cultural foundation?

There is already a trend toward "integration" among the publishing industries in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and mainland China. Yet one should not underestimate the determination of Taiwanese to maintain a unique identity. The recent demonstrations surrounding demands to change Taiwan's formal name from "the Republic of China" are just the tip of the iceberg. A variety of recent incidents reveal that identity remains a hot-button issue in Taiwan, ranging from the controversy over a public referendum law (which could open the way for a referendum on independence) and the appearance of Taiwanese-language questions on the university entrance exams (which have always been only in Mandarin Chinese) to proposals put forward by some scholars to integrate the study of China since the Ming Dynasty into general "world history" courses (rather than, as now, treating China more as a branch of "domestic" history).

Through a "ratification of names," many people in Taiwan hope to gain international credibility and autonomy, and avoid the fate of being marginalized and bullied by mainland China. There is certainly nothing wrong with this intention. But people should be cautious, because what will follow de-Sinification? Will Taiwan really benefit and gain in cultural depth and quality by standing apart? A comment made by Ping Lu, director of the Kuang Hwa Information and Culture Center in Hong Kong, is well-woth pondering: Culture, she says, is "additive," not zero-sum, and "the more you add the richer it becomes."

Don't assume, by the way, that "culture" is a subject that concerns only intellectuals. In fact, look a little deeper, and you will see another cultural cross-current in the low-to-middle strata of Taiwan's society. To wit, many brides from mainland China and other countries are marrying Taiwanese men and having children here. So many, in fact, that they are coming to constitute a distinctive ethnic group.

Last year one quarter of all marriages in Taiwan involved non-Taiwanese, and children born of cross-border marriages accounted for 12.5% of all births. Because of different customs, language problems, or low education, foreign brides have long been a disadvantaged group in society, and their rights receive little attention or protection. Now problems connected to raising and educating their children are causing headaches for school authorities in some localities. The larger issue-one on which we all need to work-is how to integrate these people into local society and culture, so that they become genuine "children of Taiwan," and their cultures combine with Taiwan's in a way that is "additive," not conflictual.

We are confronted by problems of politics, historical outlook, culture, economics and ethnicity. In the government and private sector, and in the ruling and opposition parties, the various paths adopted by different people are at cross-purposes. Are we open-minded enough to accept diversity? If we can truly achieve a situation in which "one hundred streams combine to make a great ocean," Taiwan, though small, will radiate astonishing strength!