Hello

Growing up in the UK through the 90s and 00s, it seemed that the Chinese part of my life could be neatly put into boxes - of TVB dramas, rice for dinner, and Sunday Chinese school. It had nothing to do with my ‘actual’ school, or my beloved library books, and when it did rear its head beyond those compartmentalised parts of my life, I was too self-conscious to embrace it. 

 

Ten years ago I found PP Wong’s book “The Life of a Banana” at my university bookstore. I was startled, in part astonished that this was the first time I had found a British Chinese novel. For years afterwards I browsed bookshops with half an eye out for new titles with Asian authors in a near-subconscious ritual. Fast-forward to present day, and at first glance it seems we're not doing too badly. There is widespread appreciation for translated East Asian fiction and Korean TV shows, promulgated by cultural monoliths of bookshop chains, media companies and internet retailers. Our algorithm-driven consumption seems to have produced endless choice and variety. Yet somehow the voices I sought remained almost just as hard to find. The handful of local authors and playwrights whose work I had picked up along the way had vanished. They were out of print and no longer available. 

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As I continued to grow up and grow older, as l hit certain milestones and rites of passage, I looked for the books and the stories that might help me make sense of my own life and the relationships I had with my family and friends. I wanted to contextualise my place in the world as a child of globalisation and of history, one that would help me understand the third culture space I was in. After all these years of reading, I wanted something for me. Something that hadn't been captured in the bestselling or prize-winning lists historically, nor in the shelves of translated international fiction. And I knew I couldn't be the only one feeling this way.

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The term 'East and South East Asian (ESEA)' is one I came across in British activism spaces, which came to prominence in efforts to address the rise in racism and discrimination following the COVID-19 pandemic. It's a collective I warmly embrace, a recognition of the adjacency of a very diverse group of people from different backgrounds and cultures. Although my experience is limited through my own relatively narrow heritage, I hope to expand my appreciation and share this space with the rest of the ESEA community. 

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I suppose this bookshop is a love letter of sorts. An homage not just to the books and their writers that nurtured my own interiority, but to the people who continually strive to expand the horizons for all of us. I'd like this bookshop to be a place where our stories can be celebrated, and one where we can use it to build an even better future. 

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- Zoe