| USED BOOKS NEW FINDS SAVE OUR FORESTS GROW OUR MINDS |
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| ______________________ |
| There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love. |
| ~ Christopher Morley ~ 1890 - 1957 |
Shortly after this photo was taken when I was about 6 years old, I had to read
books, to watch the moving clouds, the singing birds, to climb trees and to observe
the everything happening around me behind a pair of thick, heavy and ugly dark
rim glasses.
When people made comments about my glasses, saying: “You must be doing very
well at school and study hard, you’re a good girl!” My mother answered: “Not at
all, she has to repeat her grade this year.” I felt so guilty and wanted to dig a hole
in the ground to hide.
My parents had no ideas why my eye sights were so bad and why I did so poorly at
school. Well, I spent most of my time day dreaming in classes, often lost in many
imagination worlds acting as the characters of the stories in books that I read the
night before.
My parents seldom bought me books other than textbooks because they insisted
that I had to do well with my school work of recites and dictations before reading
other non-school subjects and books. But at school I found textbooks and
dictations were very dull, had no interests in reciting and memorizing subjects that I
had no interests in. I love listening to music, drawing, and reading everything that
my parents forbidden me to read, that I could afford to buy and find.
Occasionally when I scored high marks of subjects, my parents then allowed me to
choose books in a stationery store in the neighborhood; but these rare luck never
satisfy my thirst in reading because my school reports contained a lot of failed
items most of the time.
My mother gave me 50 cents per day as breakfast money to buy drinks and bread;
so I skipped breakfasts and saved the money up to buy books that I like and read
them secretly. I no longer remember at what age that I started to wait till everyone
were asleep before I uncovered a torch that I hide under the mattress, went under
my duvet, tucked the edges of the duvet under pillows, turned on the torch to read
till small hours.
I was an attractive, pretty, polite and quiet little girl, thus my father loved to take me
out to show me off. One day, he took me to Central to have lunch with his
business contacts in a basement restaurant, the menu was in English, a subject I
did worst in school. My father ordered for me and told me to watch and imitate how
he and his friends used the cutleries and glasses. After this first western
restaurant outing, I went to a book store in the neighborhood to buy a book on
western table manner in Chinese to learn from it; on Sundays when my father took
us out to have dim sum breakfast, sometimes I asked him to take us out to English
breakfast so I could practiced what I have learnt in that book.
I often tried to convince my siblings, class mates and little friends to read or I read
to them. They didn’t like reading as much as I did. When they were busy running
around, playing card games, Mahjong and having fun, I read my books in my room
with the door closed. One of my brother-in-law strongly believed that I had autism.
I didn’t have enough money to buy books when I was a teenage girl (I still don’t),
and there was no library in the neighborhood unless I took Star Ferry to go to the
one in City Hall in Central, so I often just tried to read as much as I could in The
Zhong Wah Book Stores in the neighborhood after school or dinner. Sometimes,
in the middle of reading a book, an unfriendly male voice would say: “Get out of
here if you are not buying, here’s not a library. You are blocking the traffic of my
customers.” I looked up to meet a pair of mean looking eyes, after I returned the
same expression to the shop attendant, put the book back on the shelf, I walked
slowly out of the shop. When I had money, I went back to the same shop, read till I
heard the same demand, then I ignored the instruction, eye-dirked the shop
attendant but continual reading till I felt like to go to the cashier and paid my
books proudly with my chin up in the air. I still have some of the books that I
bought in those days, here is one of them: short stories by 柏楊 Bo Yang.
One day I read from 明報月刊 (Ming Pao Monthly) that a limited facsimile edition of
a rare 1760 editor’s 4th edition of “The Story of a Stone" was available in 榮寶齋
(Rong Bao Zhai). I knew I couldn’t afford it but couldn’t resist the temptation of it,
so I went across the harbour to visit Rong Bao Zhai to admire it. The book shop
owner unlocked the glass door of the book shelve, took the books out and shown
me the contents of the books and pointed out the editor’s writings on the margins
of the pages. I touched the cloth cover, smile and watched him put it back in the
locked shelf. It occupied one of the compartments in my heart, I went to visiting it
often. Twice a month in average I took the Star Ferry across the harbour, walked
to Rong Bao Zhai, stood admiring its cloth covers behind the locked glass shelf.
Imagined that it was on my book shelf for a while.
After a few months I gathered my courage to tell the shop owner that I was a
student, I could not afford to buy this book now but could he put a little red dot to
reserve it for me. He didn't accept my proposal of paying him HK$200.00 per
month. I withdrew more than 3/4 of my saving from the bank to pay the required
down payment and then HK$200.00 per month. For how many months? I no
longer remember but it was more than 6 months before I took it home; and I dared
not told my family members about this expenditure.
One of the books I used my breakfast money to buy and read under the duvet by a
torch light was a Chinese translation of “Tales from Shakespeare” by Charles and
Mary Lamb. The stories and storms in The Tempest and the fairies in The Mid-
Summer Night Dream became parts of my day dreams materials in classes. So,
when I met the 1st edition of “Tales from Shakespeare” by Charles and Mary
Lamb published in 1918 by War, Lock & Co., Limited, I again couldn’t resisted not
buying it although I didn’t have a full time job.
My brother introduced the Chinese translation of “Robinson Crusoe.” I and my
siblings loved the story, we went on to read the translations other adventure
stories and named our first dog Friday. I bought a rare edition of “Robinson
Crusoe” published in late 19th century, but it was not an unhappy experience
because the first quote of the book was less than HK$500 to HK$700, My brother
introduced the Chinese translation of “Robinson Crusoe.” I and my siblings loved
the story, we went on to read the translations other adventure stories and named
our first dog Friday.
Books are my silent and most patient of teachers, I've learnt many skills and
knowledge from books. My heart was broken to find out my mother had sold my
books by weight after I returned home from first overseas living for a number of
years. Ever since then, whenever I stationed overseas to work, I moved my books
with me.
After I’ve found my spiritual teacher, I slowly realise that no matter how much I love
my books and other attachments, one day in the future I will have to continue my
journey without them. In order to avoid my books being taken to a paper shredder
machine or sell by weight again, why don’t I share them with other book lovers.
When a book lover pick a book that I'd enjoyed reading years ago, a bird sings in
my heart because my beloved book is going to be read, enjoyed and cared for by
another book lover, the life of this out of print book will be extended.
books, to watch the moving clouds, the singing birds, to climb trees and to observe
the everything happening around me behind a pair of thick, heavy and ugly dark
rim glasses.
When people made comments about my glasses, saying: “You must be doing very
well at school and study hard, you’re a good girl!” My mother answered: “Not at
all, she has to repeat her grade this year.” I felt so guilty and wanted to dig a hole
in the ground to hide.
My parents had no ideas why my eye sights were so bad and why I did so poorly at
school. Well, I spent most of my time day dreaming in classes, often lost in many
imagination worlds acting as the characters of the stories in books that I read the
night before.
My parents seldom bought me books other than textbooks because they insisted
that I had to do well with my school work of recites and dictations before reading
other non-school subjects and books. But at school I found textbooks and
dictations were very dull, had no interests in reciting and memorizing subjects that I
had no interests in. I love listening to music, drawing, and reading everything that
my parents forbidden me to read, that I could afford to buy and find.
Occasionally when I scored high marks of subjects, my parents then allowed me to
choose books in a stationery store in the neighborhood; but these rare luck never
satisfy my thirst in reading because my school reports contained a lot of failed
items most of the time.
My mother gave me 50 cents per day as breakfast money to buy drinks and bread;
so I skipped breakfasts and saved the money up to buy books that I like and read
them secretly. I no longer remember at what age that I started to wait till everyone
were asleep before I uncovered a torch that I hide under the mattress, went under
my duvet, tucked the edges of the duvet under pillows, turned on the torch to read
till small hours.
I was an attractive, pretty, polite and quiet little girl, thus my father loved to take me
out to show me off. One day, he took me to Central to have lunch with his
business contacts in a basement restaurant, the menu was in English, a subject I
did worst in school. My father ordered for me and told me to watch and imitate how
he and his friends used the cutleries and glasses. After this first western
restaurant outing, I went to a book store in the neighborhood to buy a book on
western table manner in Chinese to learn from it; on Sundays when my father took
us out to have dim sum breakfast, sometimes I asked him to take us out to English
breakfast so I could practiced what I have learnt in that book.
I often tried to convince my siblings, class mates and little friends to read or I read
to them. They didn’t like reading as much as I did. When they were busy running
around, playing card games, Mahjong and having fun, I read my books in my room
with the door closed. One of my brother-in-law strongly believed that I had autism.
I didn’t have enough money to buy books when I was a teenage girl (I still don’t),
and there was no library in the neighborhood unless I took Star Ferry to go to the
one in City Hall in Central, so I often just tried to read as much as I could in The
Zhong Wah Book Stores in the neighborhood after school or dinner. Sometimes,
in the middle of reading a book, an unfriendly male voice would say: “Get out of
here if you are not buying, here’s not a library. You are blocking the traffic of my
customers.” I looked up to meet a pair of mean looking eyes, after I returned the
same expression to the shop attendant, put the book back on the shelf, I walked
slowly out of the shop. When I had money, I went back to the same shop, read till I
heard the same demand, then I ignored the instruction, eye-dirked the shop
attendant but continual reading till I felt like to go to the cashier and paid my
books proudly with my chin up in the air. I still have some of the books that I
bought in those days, here is one of them: short stories by 柏楊 Bo Yang.
One day I read from 明報月刊 (Ming Pao Monthly) that a limited facsimile edition of
a rare 1760 editor’s 4th edition of “The Story of a Stone" was available in 榮寶齋
(Rong Bao Zhai). I knew I couldn’t afford it but couldn’t resist the temptation of it,
so I went across the harbour to visit Rong Bao Zhai to admire it. The book shop
owner unlocked the glass door of the book shelve, took the books out and shown
me the contents of the books and pointed out the editor’s writings on the margins
of the pages. I touched the cloth cover, smile and watched him put it back in the
locked shelf. It occupied one of the compartments in my heart, I went to visiting it
often. Twice a month in average I took the Star Ferry across the harbour, walked
to Rong Bao Zhai, stood admiring its cloth covers behind the locked glass shelf.
Imagined that it was on my book shelf for a while.
After a few months I gathered my courage to tell the shop owner that I was a
student, I could not afford to buy this book now but could he put a little red dot to
reserve it for me. He didn't accept my proposal of paying him HK$200.00 per
month. I withdrew more than 3/4 of my saving from the bank to pay the required
down payment and then HK$200.00 per month. For how many months? I no
longer remember but it was more than 6 months before I took it home; and I dared
not told my family members about this expenditure.
One of the books I used my breakfast money to buy and read under the duvet by a
torch light was a Chinese translation of “Tales from Shakespeare” by Charles and
Mary Lamb. The stories and storms in The Tempest and the fairies in The Mid-
Summer Night Dream became parts of my day dreams materials in classes. So,
when I met the 1st edition of “Tales from Shakespeare” by Charles and Mary
Lamb published in 1918 by War, Lock & Co., Limited, I again couldn’t resisted not
buying it although I didn’t have a full time job.
My brother introduced the Chinese translation of “Robinson Crusoe.” I and my
siblings loved the story, we went on to read the translations other adventure
stories and named our first dog Friday. I bought a rare edition of “Robinson
Crusoe” published in late 19th century, but it was not an unhappy experience
because the first quote of the book was less than HK$500 to HK$700, My brother
introduced the Chinese translation of “Robinson Crusoe.” I and my siblings loved
the story, we went on to read the translations other adventure stories and named
our first dog Friday.
Books are my silent and most patient of teachers, I've learnt many skills and
knowledge from books. My heart was broken to find out my mother had sold my
books by weight after I returned home from first overseas living for a number of
years. Ever since then, whenever I stationed overseas to work, I moved my books
with me.
After I’ve found my spiritual teacher, I slowly realise that no matter how much I love
my books and other attachments, one day in the future I will have to continue my
journey without them. In order to avoid my books being taken to a paper shredder
machine or sell by weight again, why don’t I share them with other book lovers.
When a book lover pick a book that I'd enjoyed reading years ago, a bird sings in
my heart because my beloved book is going to be read, enjoyed and cared for by
another book lover, the life of this out of print book will be extended.
| All rights reserved. |
| The Story of a Stone 1760 editor's 4th edition before published. (1,000 limited reproduction published in 1974.) |
| I look forward to seeing you at The Book Attic where browsers are always welcome. Jennifer |
| 1st edition of “Tales from Shakespeare” by Charles and Mary Lamb published in 1918 by War, Lock & Co., Limited |
| "Shaluolen" by Bo Yang Published by Sky Wind Hong Kong in late 1970s. |
| Team Members |
| Happy Amoy Part Time Ambassador and Security Officer |
| Happy Amoy is a Labrador Retriever. He is about 6 to 7 years old now. Happy and his sister joined the Amoy Street neighborhood when they were puppies. Although there were unhappy incidences happen in Happy’s life, but he is still strong, enjoying life and smiling most of the time. Happy original owner bought him and his sister with the original intention to preparing them as one of the delicacies in a hot pot dinner in winter time. When the killing time came, all neighbours persuaded the owner to give up this delicious idea because the young dogs were gentle and lovely and being loved by everyone in Amoy Street. The owner agreed not to cook them provided he didn't have to look after the two young dogs. Thus, all the shop owners agreed to share the responsibilities in looking after them. They became the neighbourhood dogs of Amoy Street. One day when both of them were young, they ate some rats poison and became very sick; Happy drank a lot of water and survived but he lost his sibling. He was sad for a while but recovered very quickly. Another unhappy incident happened to Happy was that his first foster parents moved out of Amoy Street but was not able to take him with them. Thus, Mr. & Mrs. Lau, owner of a Chinese comic book shop became Happy’s second foster parent. They gave Happy a shelter, food, training and love. Other neighbours continue to take Happy out to walk in the hills, to run on the beaches, to swim in the seas. But so many neighbours feed Happy food, thus he is overweight but VERY HAPPY. Unfortunately, Mr. & Mrs. Lau retired in April 2008 and left Amoy Street. So Happy is being left behind again. He had depression for a few weeks but is slowly recovering. The new arrangement is that the neighbours who take him out to swim and walk continue to do so, Mr. and Mrs. Wong of Wing Lee Sign Shop become his latest foster parents to provide him shelter and food. I take up the responsibility to brush his fur coat every morning. I offered Happy a 11:00 to 7:00 ambassador and security officer position. But he refused gently because he wants to be ambassador of Amoy Street to continue roaming in the neighbourhood. He agrees to be The Book Attic part time ambassador, security guard and my companion on hot days after bath only. When you visit The Book Attic and find Happy blocks the entrance, please don't be afraid because he is very gentle, just point him to the short flight of stairs and say “UP”, he’ll listen to you and lead you up to the attic. Before 19th century, Amoy Street was part of Victoria Harbour, the few steps at the end of the street next to Queen's Road East were the steps of a pier where people and fishermen embarked on boats and sampans. The government is going to develop Amoy Street into a busy traffic street for vehicles with parking lots, round-about, and vehicle access to Queen’s Road East. I am afraid that this friendly atmosphere in the neighbourhood will disappear for Happy and all residents on Amoy Street. |
| I took this picture of Happy Amoy enjoying sunbath in front of Mr. & Mrs. Lau's Chinese comic bookshop in April 2008 before the couple moved out of the Amoy Street and left Happy behind becasue the building where they live do not allow residents to keep pet. |
| About Happy Amoy |
| USED BOOKS NEW FINDS SAVE OUR FORESTS GROW OUR MINDS |
| Jennifer Li Book Lover |
| A 6 years old book lover |
