About book Gweilo: Memories Of A Hong Kong Childhood (2005)
Very much resonated with me. My family and I spent three years in Hong Kong from January 1956 to December 1959 on both Hong Kong side and Kowloon. I swam at Repulse Bay, Stonecutters, Shek-O and other beaches, visited Tiger Balm gardens, walked Happy Valley cemetery and rode the Peak Tram many times. I was nine years old when my father was posted with the army to Hong Kong and Martin's life was almost an exact copy of my life except perhaps for some of the seedier visits he made and which as a girl I was unable to see. But Martin did not mention the many visits to the shopping alleys on Hong Kong side where my mother, sister and I spent many hours happily purchasing fabric and things like glittery party slippers. He did not mention the food hanging outside shops (frequented by flies and other bugs) and which my mother, sister and I would not eat under any circumstance. So many memories, many forgotten events such as the happy arrival of the comics from Britain in brown surface mail wrappers complete with string pulls, the wooden ramps on and off the Star Ferry which swayed dangerously in the tides and yes, one often saw things in the water that one would rather not see including raw sewage, baby corpses and loads of dead cats and dogs. I even ran the halls of the Peninsula Hotel tracking down celebrities of the day for autographs. Hong Kong in the 50ies was a wonderful place to be but Martin portrayed it as mostly idyllic at least for a boy who was pretty much left to his own resources. Life for a girl was a little more restrictive. Rain flooding down those nullahs (which I played in when the water was a trickle) took the life of a British boy when he fell in and his body washed out miles away into the Bay. A school friend of mine fell out of a Bedford truck on the way home from school when the driver had to slam on the brakes for someone crossing the road carelessly. She died. But the people of Hong Kong were lovely to children and you were often on the receiving end of generosity never experienced in the UK.I am sure that Martin's path and mine could have possibly crossed when he returned to Hong Kong in 1959 but he was three years older than me and when one is only 11/12 and he would have been 14/15, we would not have had a lot in common save for the military background. But I am sure that as adults, had he survived, we would have had a wonderful time chatting about life in Hong Kong. Thank you Martin for re-opening the doors for me.
This book grabbed me "big time" and will stay with me "long time". I have lived in Hong Kong for 16+ years and have always wondered what it was really like before WW II and in the immediate post war years before it exploded. How Booth remembered everything is beyond me but he manages to recall names and places with startling accuracy. It is also the story of a boy taking advantage of an opportunity to explore a different culture and growing up quickly in the process. In its way it also portrays a basic conflict when it contrasts the viewpoints of Martin's father, an arrogant, closed minded, bureaucrat and his mother who was open to learning and becoming a part of the Chinese Community. Having been here for so many years, I can almost immediately spot the "ex-pat ghetto inhabitants" as opposed to the folks with an open mind and an adventurous and exploratory spirit. It mostly has to do with basic respect for individuals. Respect for others will get you a long way.Booth's descriptions are wonderful and I can almost feel Hong Kong as it was when he lived here. In some ways it reminds me of my first trips here when I would just walk the streets until I got lost. His writing gave me the same sense I have, that this is a Chinese City and always has been. It's easy to think it is totally Westernized but just as it was never a British city, it is not a Western city. To paraphrase ex-Governor Patten paraphrasing Deng Xiao Peng, "It's a Chinese City with Western characteristics." I wish Booth had lived long enough to write the next chapter in his love affair with Hong Kong. This book ends in 1955 when he leaves for England at age 10 but four years later he returned for good. I feel blessed that he was, at least able to write this book.
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Critics agree that Booth vividly captures the sounds, sights, and tastes of Hong Kong__from Kowloon's chaotic alleys to the stunning countryside. Simultaneously a portrait of a place, a childhood, and a marriage, Golden Boy should be savored for its wonderful prose and nostalgic, wise recollections. Booth, who died last year, wrote this book for his two children. Although he recounts his story from a young boy's perspective, most reviewers were touched by the authenticity of his voice. Despite the noxious scenes Booth paints of his family troubles, Golden Boy is an uplifting and "loving tribute to Hong Kong, which in some ways hasn't changed at all" (Wall Street Journal).This is an excerpt from a review published in Bookmarks magazine.
—Bookmarks Magazine
Martin Booth moved to Hong Kong with his parents in 1952, at the age of seven. This is an autobiographical account of the first three years he spent in the then British colony. Mr. Booth was obviously a curious and unafraid boy, roaming widely about the streets and hills of Kowloon and Hong Kong while connecting firmly with the local culture and people.Having lived in Hong Kong for several years now, this book held particular interest for me. Mr. Booth lets us see Hong Kong through his eyes, without adult judgment or bias. I got the impression that he retells his experiences as Booth the boy saw them, not as Booth the man interpreted them later. This infuses the chronicle with a refreshing naivete. Mr. Booth's stick-in-the-mud bully of a father contrasted with the adventurous and ever curious mother, make for an colorful domestic backdrop to his adventures. While it is easy to think that a young boy did not actually experience all the things described, and that age has romanticized in the author's mind events which happened long ago, the authenticity of people's reactions and places described makes me want to believe that Mr. Booth really did all these things. No doubt he was a more adventurous boy than most.The love that Mr. Booth felt for Hong Kong shines through the pages. His eagerness to seek out new and foreign experiences should be encouraged in all people, not just expats. It was how he became really aware of his surroundings in a way that many expats are not.NOTE: This book is entitled "Golden Boy: Memories of a Hong Kong Childhood" in the USA edition.http://www.books.rosboch.net/?p=1743
—Andreas
Martin Booth writes so well. I did find it interesting that he could remember so much as an 8 year old. As I am writing a family memoir about our time in Singapore I understand that one does research, maybe reading letters or history does make it possible to write. The theme of the book: the sad marriage of her parents. His father is portrayed as having no good in him, I mean, NONE. Could he have been THAT bad? He seemed like the most precocious 8 year old that ever lived. Here he is wandering the opium dens,alleys, taken under the wing of the "hotel boys" who some were not boys.His descriptions are like a photograph or painting, such detail and description.
—Lisa
