Summary of the Core Content
This article delves into profound reflections on commercial spaces, decision-making emotions, and how to cope with failure through the author's experience in a luxurious yet deserted shopping mall on Nanjing Road in Shanghai. The "sorrow" associated with such spaces stems from the contrast between high expectations from the past and the reality of their emptiness. The essence of this sorrow lies in an "unfinished farewell"—the refusal to acknowledge that those hopes were never fulfilled. The solution lies in breaking free from old dreams and adopting a more pragmatic approach (for example, by reducing the size of the space to attract more visitors). By drawing on the concept of "intentionality" from phenomenology, the author points out that spaces embody the emotions of their creators and can be interpreted and completed. Finally, the article emphasizes the value of investing emotion in one's work: even when it fails, it is important to learn to say goodbye and move forward.
1. Why do luxurious shopping malls evoke sadness?
The golden escalators mentioned by the author are not just ordinary escalators; they represent the materialization of the dreams of decision-makers from a decade ago. People fought over budgets, drew plans, imagining a future filled with endless streams of luxury customers. However, with few customers in the mall today, the escalators continue to operate, and the lights remain on, turning those hopes poured into concrete and glass into a sense of reluctance.
In contrast to smaller, lower-cost shopping malls that are more popular or places like Pop Mart, which create a lively atmosphere with limited circulation areas, the emptiness of luxurious malls is particularly heart-wrenching. The more luxurious they are, the greater the expectations from the past, and the more disappointing the reality becomes. It's like hosting a party at great expense only for no one to attend—no matter how beautiful the venue, it remains deserted.
2. The essence of sadness: "Unfinished farewell"
The author gives two examples: a completely abandoned amusement park (with rusted equipment and overgrown grass) is not sad because the "funeral" has already taken place; however, an amusement park with working lights and still-turning Ferris wheels, where the operator hasn't given up on their dreams, is the most sorrowful. The lingering hopes make it impossible to accept the reality of the broken dream.
This is similar to Miss郝 Weixiang from "A Dream of Splendor," who keeps her wedding dress for decades and refuses to let go of her past dreams, even though her wedding was abandoned. Sadness arises not from failure but from the refusal to say goodbye.
3. Overcoming sadness: Breaking free from old dreams and starting over
The author uses the term "dousing in realism" (a metaphorical reference) to suggest that instead of maintaining a pretense of emptiness, it might be better to reduce the space's size or close off certain areas to create a more lively atmosphere (similar to a night market). If a new development cannot proceed, it might be better to convert it into a park. The key is to openly declare that old dreams are dead; luxurious malls fail because they continue to wait for the customer base and ambiance envisioned in the past. Just as Miss郝 Weixiang must let go of her wedding dress, we must first acknowledge that those dreams no longer exist before we can move on.
It's also important to distinguish between a temporary setback (such as a downturn in the market) and a fundamental misdirection in strategy; if it's just a temporary issue, waiting might be worthwhile, but if the direction is wrong, changing course is necessary.
4. Emotions hidden in spaces: What is "intentionality"?
The author explains this using phenomenological concepts of "intentionality," suggesting that spaces are more than just physical structures; they also carry the intentions of their creators. For instance, a Spanish architect's sunken plaza was designed to connect with a garden on the north side, but due to its depth and limited entrances, it remained unused. The author modified it by adding ramps and doors, allowing office workers to easily access the garden—this fulfilled the architect's intention. In other words, things made with care retain the creator's intentions, which those who understand can perceive.
5. Is investing emotion in work worth it?
The author notes that investing emotion in work can lead to two outcomes: if successful, your efforts will convey your intentions (for example, the architect will be pleased if their garden is put to use); if not, you must deal with the sadness of a missed opportunity. However, it's important to separate the reality of your emotions from the outcome of your efforts. Working without emotion might be safer, but success would lack the emotional depth that your work could convey. Just as we appreciate Van Gogh's paintings for more than just their colors, we also feel the life and emotions he poured into them.
In conclusion, the article uses the story of a shopping mall to illustrate the principles of business decision-making, emotional investment, and failure. It teaches us that we should not dwell on past regrets but should bravely say goodbye and move forward, as time cannot be reversed.