Hong Kong is Banned Book Paradise

November 20, 2012

Mainlanders flock to Hong Kong bookstores to buy books censored back home

By Nectar Gan and Jennifer Lam

It is a weekday evening and Tsim Sha Tsui’s Peking Street is crowded with people and cars. But in an upstairs bookshop, it is extremely quiet. Thousands of books are arranged neatly on the shelves in historical order, from tomes about ancient times to contemporary China. Many of them are banned in the Mainland.

The Central Propaganda Department is the organ responsible for banning books in China. It has the power to censor, prohibit publication and ban the sale of books as well as to censor news, movies and television programmes. Banned books are often about sensitive issues in mainland China. They can range from academic works on political theory to salacious books of gossip about Chinese political leaders to fiction that is deemed morally suspect.

With such strict censorship in place, many mainland readers flock to Hong Kong for books they cannot buy back home.

On the evening of Varsity’s visit to 1908 Bookstore, Tim Wang bought two copies of Lishi de xiansheng, literally Herald of History. The book is a selection of speeches, articles and comments calling for freedom and democracy published by the Chinese Communist Party in the early 1940s, during the rule of the Kuomintang. The book has been banned by the Chinese government since 1999.

Wang grew up in the Mainland and came to Hong Kong before the handover. He is now in his 30s. He works in publishing and has a special affection for books. Wang says he has taken banned books back to the Mainland, either for himself or for friends,more than 10 times.

“I brought banned books as souvenirs from Hong Kong,” he says. In his eyes, banned books are much better gifts than mooncakes.

Wang says he was not always a big fan of prohibited books. He used to think such books were either poorly written or were just politically motivated. But his attitude changed after he read the historian Gao Hua’s acclaimed book on the Yan’an Rectification Movement, How the Red Sun Rises, out of curiosity. Wang recalls how he came to realise things that he had never paid attention to before. The more he read, the more he wanted to know. Soon, he was addicted to banned books.

For Wang, reading banned books is no longer just about satisfying curiosity. As China undergoes seismic changes, mainland society is struggling with many social problems. Wang hopes to get inspiration from books that are forbidden by the propaganda department, and be able to see a way out for the country.

Re-defining Reading

November 20, 2012

What Hong Kong’s young people are reading and how

By Astina Ng and Vivian Ng

If you look around on the train or the bus, or in cafés and restaurants, you are sure to see young people sitting and standing with their heads bent slightly forward, staring at their smartphones and tablets. It is less likely that you will see someone reading a printed book.

Hong Kong is often criticized for being a cultural and literary desert. Indeed, a survey of 800 people commissioned earlier this year by Sun Hung Kai Properties found that “reading” was ranked seventh out of nine leisure activities, behind shopping and listening to music and just ahead of sleeping.

Perhaps just as prevalent as the idea that Hong Kong’s reading culture is in a sorry state is the notion that Hong Kong’s young people belong to a generation that simply does not read.

Thanks to the growth of the internet, youngsters live in an age where information is readily available and for free online, accessed through computers, phones and other mobile devices. It seems obvious that young people no longer want to turn the pages of actual books.

But is the charge that the young do not read a fair one? Varsity set out to explore the reading culture of Hong Kong students, to find out their views about reading, what they are really reading and how. We conducted a survey (full results here) of 262 young people aged between 15 and 26, attending four local secondary schools and the Chinese University of Hong Kong. The vast majority of respondents were aged under 23.

The poll found that 37 per cent of the respondents said they spend an average of between half an hour and one hour reading each day. While 25 per cent of respondents said they spent less than half an hour reading each day and an equal number said they spent between one and two hours reading per day.

Most of the respondents thought it was important for young people to read, 89 per cent chose four or five on a scale of one to five (where five meant “very important”). But only 10 per cent thought that young people were reading enough and 61 per cent of respondents thought they did not spend enough time reading. The most common reason given was the lack of time.

“It’s not like we don’t want to read, but we don’t even have enough time to study, let alone read [for leisure],” says Janice Wong, one of the respondents from a local secondary school. Janice says she would rather scan through posts and articles on online social media platforms than read a novel from start to finish. “Short articles shared on Facebook and forums provide an excellent platform for us to read. They are much easier to read and it’s simply more convenient,” she says.

B&B Hong Kong Style

November 20, 2012

Bed and Breakfast offers alternative accommodation for visitors to Hong Kong

By Lindy Wong and Derek Li

On a street packed with three-storey village houses and small stalls selling salty fish and shrimp paste in the village of Tai O, stands a house that has been elegantly re-styled in industrial concrete, wood and stone finishes. Guest accommodation is offered at this coolly contemporary house and you could easily imagine it as a boutique hotel, complete with restaurant and rooftop spa.

But owner Veronica Chan prefers to call it a B&B. B&B stands for bed and breakfast, a type of lodging establishment offering overnight accommodation and breakfast to travellers that first emerged in Europe and America.

escape bed — Interior of Espace Elastique

In recent years, this kind of accommodation has also taken off in Asia. In Taiwan, travellers find B&Bs or homestays (民宿) provide a common and popular alternative to hotels and hostels. In both Taiwan and Japan, B&Bs are recognized and regulated businesses.

This is very different to Hong Kong. B&Bs do exist here but in very varied forms and price ranges. In general, they are accommodation units with basic utilities, furniture and an internet connection that are rented out on a daily basis.

Veronica Chan launched Espace Elastique, which offers three rooms, in December 2009 and has been running it as a B&B ever since. It used to be her family house and was later rented to locals. Chan turned it into a B&B after her father became too old to manage it.

Chan enjoys interacting with her guests. She thinks communication is what distinguishes B&Bs from other accommodation. “In hotels you just check-in and go straight to your room. It is very robotic,” she says.

In order to ensure the quality of service, Chan insists on being personally involved in daily operations. Not only is she engaged in duties like serving the visitors, cooking and cleaning, but she also takes time to sit down and have a cup of tea with them.

One visitor from the UK, Kam Sanghera, chose to stay at Espace Elastique for a two-day break after his two-week business trip. He has travelled extensively and stayed in various types of accommodation around the world, but he finds the personal interaction with the host is what makes him prefer B&Bs over business hotels.

“It’s hard for the big businesses of hotels to get beyond just the services. They are very good for facilities, but they are not as friendly or personal as B&B.”

Apart from bonding with the visitors, Chan also regularly organizes local tours in Tai O and workshops making shrimp paste and steamed buns so that they can experience the local culture.

The Model Asian

November 20, 2012

What the hype and hysteria over A&F hunks tells us about perceptions of Asian male bodies

By Ian Cheng and Thee Lui

Sweating on the treadmill, pumping iron, counting his crunches – 22-year-old Nicholas Tang Chia-wei works out for two hours every day. Then, almost every week, he takes a photo of the results of his labour and sends it to the headquarters of Abercrombie & Fitch (A&F) in the United States. Tang works as a model in the clothing retailer’s recently opened Hong Kong store. He is working his body so that he can satisfy his bosses at A&F that he is ready to bepromoted to the post of “shirtless greeter”.

These are the topless hunks with the toned torsos that A&F hire to stand by the doors of their stores, greet customers and pose for photographs with them.

When A&F’s store opened in August this year, it flew in around 100 male models to meet, greet and ride around Central on an open-top, double-decker bus wearing trademark red beach shorts and big smiles.

The topless models had the Central lunchtime crowd either whooping in approval, laughing or quietly shaking their heads. It was a difficult spectacle to ignore. Others travelled from across the territory to snap and to touch the men. Online too, it was a phenomenon, setting social networking sites like Facebook abuzz with pictures and both positive and negative comments.

Although it was a marketing event to promote a fashion brand, it stirred up heated debate about issues of gender, masculinity and race. In a society where women are the traditional objects of desire, it threw up questions about whether it was acceptable for women to look at men the way men look at women. The fact that the models were mostly foreigners also threw a light on how people perceive Asian male bodies, particularly Chinese, Japanese and Korean men.

Naked Sanctuary

November 20, 2012

Hong Kong’s home-grown nudists pursue state of nature

By Rene Lam

On a tranquil beach at the southern edge of Lantau Island, sunbathers laze around reading, taking photographs of the scenery and snoozing. They are much the same as sun-seekers you might find on any of Hong Kong’s beaches, except that trunk marks and bikini lines do not mean anything to them.

Although Hong Kong law forbids complete nudity outdoors, local nudists can still find some oases in isolated parts of Lantau, on beaches on the outlying islands off Sai Kung and a few other secret spots around Hong Kong that are usually deserted on weekdays.

Wing, who does not wish to disclose his real name, has taken time off work on this Friday afternoon to join a group of nudists who met up through social networking sites. He found out about the event after receiving an online invitation to a ‘Sunbathing Naturalist Gathering’.

Although the 39 year-old has been a nudist for ten years, this is the first time he has ever sunbathed with nudist companions. “Because I only come on weekdays, it is difficult to schedule a holiday with friends,” says Wing, “it is nice to meet new friends with the same interest.”

It took this group of ten nudists two hours to get to their destination and when they get there they strip off completely, without hesitation or awkwardness. It so happens there are some other unclothed people on the beach. They exchange smiles and go on drenching themselves in the sun.

However, when families or village people very occasionally pass by, everyone is on alert. Some quickly put on their swimsuits, some use a towel to cover their genitals. “The most important principle is to not disturb anyone… I do not want to be confrontational. After all, we are just a minority. Plus, it is prohibited by the Hong Kong law,” Wing says.

sign — Public nudity is illegal in Hong Kong

Leading today’s group is 44-year-old Zeno, who says there are usually no more than 15 participants at each gathering. These can be held either indoors or outdoors, and participants range from 18 to 50 years of age.

Zeno has been a nudist for ten years. Besides nude sunbathing, he also does nude hiking, nude Yoga and figure drawing with nudist Facebook friends. He feels delighted and relaxed to be naked in Mother Nature. “We did not wear anything when we came to this world,” he says.

For Zeno, going bare is about getting back to basics. The desire to peel off his “second-skin” is a natural one but stripping down is about more than just removing physical items of clothing. “When you are naked, you tend to be more honest and open. You would talk more about your feelings from depth of your heart,” he says.

Art for All

November 20, 2012

A group of young artists take art to the street

By Sabrina Poh

Earlier this year, guests in smart business attire admired contemporary Asian artworks in a 15,000 square-foot gallery space located in one of the city’s most exclusive office rental spaces. The artwork could be purchased for prices of between HK$160,000 and HK$5.5 million.

The guests were attending the opening party of a permanent new gallery opened by international auction house Sotheby’s and which is just one of the western art houses who want a presence in Hong Kong. The city has become the third largest auction centre in the world after New York and London. The Hong Kong art market is vibrant and new galleries seem to be opening constantly.

But that may not mean much to those who care about local art. Victor Liu Hing-yuen feels the art scene in Hong Kong only serves one group of people – the affluent. “It is just for rich people to buy luxuries and stuff,” says the 22-year-old fashion designer. “Art should be part of everybody’s life.”

At one gallery opening early this year, he began talking to a young artist who had just finished her studies abroad. He was attracted by her idea of bringing art onto Hong Kong’s streets, and joined her group of art lovers.

Members of the group do not create artworks in studios. They make art in unconventional venues and in public. They make life-drawings outside the Hong Kong Cultural Centre in Tsim Sha Tsui and in front of the Times Square shopping centre in Causeway Bay. They even have sketch-ins on the MTR.

This community of street art advocates has been growing since January this year and was hatched by two 22-year-olds, Jessica Poon Yin-tong and Vivian Ho Pok-yan. The two, who have been good friends since secondary school, both left to study in different US universities before returning to Hong Kong.

Being Stephen Au

November 20, 2012

Musings Stephen Au Kam-tong: actor, presenter, playwright and man of many other parts

By Yannie Mak

For a man who was once notorious for his prickly temperament and explosive temper, today’s Stephen Au Kam-tong is relaxed, candid and generous with his time. The 48-year-old actor looks dapper and boyish in a black T-shirt and a black jacket. Sitting in a Kowloon Tong coffee shop with a cup of gourmet tea in front of him, he shares his views on the current state of Hong Kong and stories from his life.

Au was unswerving in his public support for the anti-national-education protests earlier this year. He posted strong messages on his Facebook page, insisted on wearing black every day and spoke at a rally attended by tens of thousands of people at Tamar Park.

His outspokenness is all the more remarkable because he is a contracted artist with Television Broadcasts Limited (TVB). His friends were afraid there would be consequences, that it could hurt his career. But Au shrugs this off, “If we can’t even have a discussion without constraining ourselves, spooking ourselves, then what is the meaning of life?” he says.

Au says he is constantly pondering existential questions. He wonders about why he was born where he was when he was, about why events that have taken place in Hong Kong occurred the way they did. He thinks Hong Kongers are too careful, too worried about just “living”, which they equate with working at their jobs.

He wishes people could look at the bigger picture and see that Hong Kong, as a special administrative region, enjoys a lot of rights which are taken for granted. “If we can have the living conditions we do, the environment we have, if we can breathe the air of freedom, then we are wasting our lives if we don’t speak out.”

This urge to speak and act is not new for Au. When he was a secondary student, he protested against the depiction of the Sino-Japanese War during World War Two in Japanese history textbooks. He always identified himself as a Chinese.

History was Au’s favourite subject. He recalls that during lessons when Hong Kong was still under British colonial rule, he learned about the history of the Kuomintang, the Communist Party of China, and even the shameful incidents of British history. Discussion between teachers and students encouraged him to think critically.

He wanted China to be strong. Au remembers telling his teacher, “If we want China to be powerful, we have to study hard; as long as we are knowledgeable, China’s next generation will be good.”

Listen! Don’t look

November 20, 2012

How secondary school teacher became Lung Siu-kwan, a singer behind a mask

By Nicole Chan

Most people would find her outfit strange, perhaps even creepy. Her face is completely hidden behind her sunglasses and a black veil. Her full-length blue and white costume covers every inch of flesh, even in the summer heat, and is guaranteed to attract stares everywhere she goes.

She is Lung Siu-kwan, a former schoolteacher now turned professional singer.

Lung started out as an anonymous internet singer whose songs gathered a strong online following and ended up being signed to Golden Age Music, a music production company founded by actress Sandra Ng Kwan-yu and her brother.

Her real identity is a closely guarded secret. A record company staff member sat next to her during Varsity’s interview with Lung and shot her intense looks whenever she responded to sensitive questions which could reveal more about her background.

Lung says her insistence on hiding her face is based on a belief that, “music should be simple.” Audiences should appreciate a singer’s voice, instead of her appearance and figure.

She first dreamt of becoming a singer as a child but feared her dream would remain no more than just that. She recalls a judge’s criticism of her when she participated in a singing contest in 2009: “You sing quite well actually, but your size is plump so showmanship on stage is not good.”

Those words devastated Lung. She started to question if appearance meant everything for a singer.

At that time, Lung weighed over 90 kg and had health problems stemming from her weight. She developed sleep apnea and would pant even after a short walk. This made her determined to go on a diet. After a year, she managed to shed 45 kg. Lung says she had an inferiority complex starting from childhood. “I come from a lower class and a single-parent family. Besides, I was a fat girl since I was small,” she says. She remembers her peers often teased her about her weight and the negative feelings stayed in her mind.

Voiceover Maestro

November 20, 2012

Meet Lam Pou Chuen, the voice of cartoon cat Doraemon

By Kris Lee

When Varsity mentions that his real voice sounds very different to the character that has made him a household name, Lam Pou-chuen breaks into a laugh and launches into the memorable lines, “Nobita! Wake up la! Wake up la! Hurry and wake up la! It’s time to go to school la! Otherwise you’ll be late again la!” These words are heard in almost every episode of the Hong Kong-dubbed version of the Japanese cartoon Doraemon over the past 30 years.

While Lam’s voice is deeply etched into the minds of Doraemon viewers of all ages, the cat with the magical gadgets is just one of Lam’s great achievements in his 42-year long career as a voice actor. “Voice actors are similar to chefs. If you cook a delicious dish that becomes popular, you will become well-known too,” says Lam.

Lam never set out to be a voice actor. After graduating from secondary school, he applied for bank jobs but failed. At that time, the dubbing industry was still in its infancy. Lam wrote to Television Broadcasts Limited (TVB) to apply for a job as a voice actor and passed the interview. He has been voice acting ever since.

During his early days, Lam did not have the chance to dub even a single word of dialogue. There were no training courses for him and other rookies. They were only assigned to produce sound effects like the sound of footsteps, opening doors and phone dialing with props in the studio.

“We did not have so much professional training like now. We just sat behind the seniors and learned from them while they were voice acting,” explains Lam. “These days there are professional voice actors giving lessons.”

Among his seniors, Lam most appreciates the actor Tam Bing-man, who belonged to the first generation of voice actors in Hong Kong. “I followed and learned from him since the first day,” says Lam. “I call him master.”

Lam did not just observe and learn while he was making sound effects at the back of the studio, he made use of all his time to perfect his art. After he got home every night, he read newspapers out loud to improve his articulation and pacing.

Cemetery Stories

November 20, 2012

Uncovering Hong Kong’s history among the gravestones in Happy Valley

by Stephanie Cheng & Viola Yeh