FLOWBOOKS
X
LILYBOOKSHOP:
Two idealists thrusting books back into human hands to change our reading
Gabriel Fung
There is truly nothing more sad than the state of the book industry in Hong Kong. The epilogue of PageOne, the death of dymocks, the send-off for Swindon, and the closure of all 16 stores of the no-longer-in-demand Popular. So in order to survive this hostile climate, you need to completely revamp the very fabric of a society’s reading culture.
One bold shot at this is FlowBooks x LilyBookshop. Situated in Sheung Wan, the second-hand bookstore (originally just FlowBooks) has been running since 1997, braving the many challenges that have been hurled its way – and the metalllic mace that is COVID has now flown smack into its face. But what has given it immense strength is the philosophy that buttresses the store.
Run by Surdham and Lily, the shop advocates that books should not be kept on shelves, but passed from one person to another, or “flowing” in Surdham’s words.
Surdham had come upon the idea to start FlowBooks by accident. After graduating from HKU, he worked as an education officer for the first organic farm in Hong Kong and spent most of his time advocating for environmental consciousness. One day, he was introduced to a small second-hand bookstore in Mid-levels, and was so impressed by it that he decided to begin working there.
“I was the only staff there to take care of the whole shop, because the two owners had full-time jobs,” Surdham recalled.
Eventually, the shop closed down because it was simply unprofitable (as bookstores always seem to be), and Surdham was laid off.
“Naturally, I had to make a choice again. Whether I should go back to the farm, if the job is still available, or go back to the field and look for another education officer position…” Surdham said, “Or continue that new journey in book business.”
From there, FlowBooks, the shop and the concept, came into being. Surdham wanted to redefine reading culture. He doesn’t want books to be bought, sold, or given away, but rather “flowed” from one to another – and he believed that this was the best way to make books more accessible to people.
“I think 80, out of a 100 people, don’t really understand what I’m doing,” Surdham said, “They can’t find an exact business model in Hong Kong that fits into what I’m saying.”
And that’s because in his mind, FlowBooks is a movement. He wants to revive the old reading culture where people carried books in their pockets to kill time or relax, to the extent that it becomes as addicting as smoking or drinking.
But it has not been easy (as you can imagine). In 2017, FlowBooks went into bankruptcy and was on the verge of suffering the same fate as many other bookstores. But after Surdham made an appeal to the public just hours before forced closure, he was able to raise enough money to get a seven-day extension from his landlord.
That same year, long-time volunteer Lily set up a joint venture with Surdham: FlowBooks x LilyBookshop. Looking to breathe life into the store, she proposed that the bookstore also devote itself to selling antique books.
“Second-hand antique books have their historical value, and can be passed to the next generation,” Lily said, “They don’t just lose their value after you’re done reading.”
During my visit, Lily showed me an old copy of a Hans Christian Anderson storybook. It was printed in 1958 by an Italian publisher, and despite the yellowing of the pages, its vibrant colors looked as if they were painted on yesterday. It was given to the store by a British couple who had had it in their family for two generations.
Books that Lily collects in the antique section are typically out-of-circulation, and occasionally, she is the one with the only available copy left in the entire city.
“We’ve had customers who’ve said that the books they’ve been searching for could only be found here.”
Lily told me that, every so often, she brings the books home when they can’t find a new owner, out of a compulsion to ensure that these antiques are well kept and looked after.
“People donate a lot of books, but can’t bring myself to tell people to take any of them back, even if they say ‘it’s too troublesome don’t bother taking more’, I’ll just take it and give it to schools, or charities.”
Although the store has undergone some restructuring under Lily’s care, it still relies heavily on volunteers to help run the shop, and it has been especially tough for them these last two years.
“Our business is not stable, sometimes we may only earn a few hundred dollars, and yet I still need to pay rent. If we didn’t like books, perhaps we wouldn’t have been able to continue. And I’ve thought about giving up, but I couldn’t bring myself to. These books here are like my family, my own sons and daughters.”
Lily explained to me that her admiration for books comes from her Dad, who had no opportunity to study higher education, and learnt everything purely through books. Eventually, he was even able to become an official. She told me when his Dad would be attacked on the route home, he’d be able to skillfully fend several attackers off because of kung-fu books that he read. Of course, this is just something her mother told her, but it nevertheless left a very deep impression.
“Every weekend or holiday I’d go to a bookstore, and stay there until it was dinner time, and $1-2, which was a lot at the time, to buy books.”
In contrast, Surdham’s passion from books comes from his belief in the intrinsic value of reading.
“The ideal world I see, is one where step-by-step human beings cooperate and become wiser through extensive reading. I want people to keep reading so that they are more open-minded.,” Surdham says with an almost Millian spirit.
In fact, Surdham studied philosophy at HKU in the 1990s, and he believes that the movement to reinvigorate the “flow” reading culture should begin there – in the form of Flowbraries.
Surdham envisions a university, or even city, where bookstands are scattered all over the place for people to pick up or drop off books.
“Flowbrary is not in a building. It could be next to the canteen, inside the canteen, inside the hostels. The whole idea is to integrate different resources to fit into this new reading habit,” he explains.
Ambitiously, he wants to pitch this idea to HKU and the MTR Corporation, and have Flowbraries set up at train stations across the city. He envisages a society where people will casually pick up books at stations, and move books across the city, flowing from one reader to the next.
“The most challenging part of running a bookstore is the daily expenses. But to make Flowbooks practical, the biggest challenge is making people accept the habit.”
Moreover, he wants books to not just be kept in libraries where they sit idly, but placed into Flowbraries and distributed across the city.
“Let’s say there are 50,000 books in the HKU library system,” Surdham adds, “My dream is to see another 50,000 books outside the library – spreading around different corners of the university.”
To both Surdham, ebooks are not a viable alternative because people already spend the majority of their time on their devices. Physical books, in essence, are the best (and possibly only) way to bring out the true reading experience. Lily also shared a 2014 study that revealed that people are more engaged with books when they read them on paper, as opposed to on a digital copy.
Regardless of the fact, especially for us Uni students, it appears that there is little to stop ebooks from eclipsing physical books. But perhaps Lily and Surdham can change that.
“In the brink of the disappearance of this kind of habit, we have to take the chance to do it before it's extinguished,” Surdham added.
(Special thanks to Kay for this incredible recommendation)
​