It is a kind of serene oasis in the city center, so close to the noise and pollution of Avenida Almeida Ribeiro and the constant commute of people passing by Largo do Senado. The yellow building that houses the Sir Robert Ho Tung Library shares St. Augustine Square with the church of the same name, the D. Pedro V Theater and St. Joseph’s Seminary, forming a UNESCO-listed urban site.
The date of construction of the building is not known for certain, but it is known that it dates back at least to 1894. Its first inhabitant was probably Carolina Antónia da Cunha, but the building went through the hands of several owners until 1918, the year when Robert Ho Tung, a businessman from Hong Kong, bought the mansion, settling there during World War II, when the Japanese army occupied the neighboring territory. After the war, Robert Ho Tung used the house as a vacation retreat, especially in the summer.
In 1955, the owner wrote his will, leaving the building to the Macau Government. The condition for this to happen was simple: the government should turn the house into a public library by investing in Chinese books.
“Perhaps this language specificity had to do with the fact that there is the Leal Senado library, where books in Portuguese and other foreign languages were gathered. This may be why Sir Robert Ho Tung specified the issue of books being in Chinese,” explains Ophelia Tang Mei Lin, head of the Cultural Affairs Bureau’s library management department.
The following year Robert Ho Tung passed away and his family followed his instructions, handing the house over to the government and adding $25,000 from Hong Kong to buy the first books that would fill the library rooms. In 1958, the Sir Robert Ho Tung Library opened its doors, becoming at that time the largest public library in Macau and Hong Kong.
The original building is divided into three floors, where the influences of traditional and western Chinese architecture are noticeable, in a crossroad of tastes and decorative notes common in so many Macau houses. Outside, the garden stretches over a vast area, with trees and shrubs of different species, small walkways and many nooks and crannies where readers can take advantage of the shade to protect themselves from the heat.
In addition to the original building, a new one was built creating a connection between new and old that is only noticeable from the garden. The space was already too small for its functions, so it was necessary to create new areas.
“In 2002, the construction of the new building began, expanding the available space and linking the construction with the existing building. In 2006, the works were completed and the new space was open to the public,” says Ophelia.
Study, read and rest
From the garden, one accesses the children’s space, immediately recognizable by the paintings on the walls.
“A number of cartoonists were invited to illustrate the environment, and the choice was made in using Japanese manga style, which is very popular with younger readers.” On the shelves are books in Chinese and English, all at an accessible height for children.
On the first floor, the reading rooms begin, distributing books, newspapers, magazines and multimedia records by different spaces.
“The computer area was reduced to make room for books because it was realized that most readers use their mobile phones or personal computers to research what they need. With wi-fi, they can do it and we don’t need so much space for computers,” explains Ms Tang.
In one room the books are all in English, in the other in Chinese. Almost all books are available by direct access, and can be taken off the shelves to be read at the desks or borrowed to take home. At the back of the reading room, the windows occupy the entire wall and offer a beautiful view of the area, with adjacent sofas inviting visitors to rest. The view, however, is temporary, because the blinds have to be almost always slanted to prevent sunlight from damaging the books. These sofas are always crowded, with or without a view, even if there is no shortage of other comfortable spaces and nooks on the various floors of this library.
In the room dedicated to media, the tables are full. There are dozens of generalist and specialist newspapers, magazines in various languages and showcases organized by theme.
“We always have a lot of people in this room, because reading newspapers is still a very common habit.”
In one of the library spaces, a window draws attention to the hustle and bustle inside. This is where the ISBN, the international numerical code that identifies and individualizes each book published anywhere in the world, is attributed to books published in Macau. Ophelia goes back to 1999 to explain how Macau began to assign ISBNs:
“After Macau’s return to the Chinese administration, those responsible for public reading of the territory decided to ask the International ISBN Agency to have its own code for Macau books published here. From that year onwards, the Sir Robert Ho Tung Library became the headquarters of the ISBN in Macau and this is where the numbers are provided for the location or identification of a book anywhere in the world”.
Annually, some 5,000 new ISBN codes are issued here, according to Ophelia: “These numbers are attributed to many types of publications, not just books as we commonly understand them. We may be talking about short-run publications, commemorative editions, government publications, small leaflets, etc.… ”
A bibliographic treasure
The Sir Robert Ho Tung Library receives about 200,000 visitors annually. However, most of these visitors, regulars or sporadic users, are probably unaware that within the library is also a private room that houses a collection of some 20,000 ancient books, all written in the Chinese language.
“Not all the details about the beginning of this collection are known, but it is known that between the 1950s and 1960s the Macau Government bought a number of antique books. Afterwards, the collection has grown until today, ” explains Ophelia.
Entering the reserved area, the controlled environment is immediately noticeable.
“There can be no humidity here and the temperature has to be constant or the works will be damaged,” explains the person responsible for the conservation of this part of the library.
The oldest books in the room date back to the Ming Dynasty and make up a collection entitled Yong Da Ji, with 36 volumes. Almost all the works stored here are very rare, sometimes because of their antiquity, sometimes because they are simply very unique. Although reserved, the room can be visited upon prior request to the library, and books are available for researchers who wish to consult them. But, as Ophelia explains, “not many people are interested in studying these books.”
Perhaps this is why the digitization work of each of the copies kept here is so relevant, a task that the library and the Cultural Affairs Bureau have taken on and have already begun.
“The process is very slow because some books are fragile and digitization has to be done very carefully.”
And there are many books that are in need of restoration, a process that is also slow and must be meticulous, especially because the restoration workshops are located in the Tap Seac Central Library, which means transporting the books and exposing them to the environment from the street, albeit for a short time.
“Right now, more than 600 books are already digitized and we will continue to do this work,” says Ophelia.
Throughout the room, the spines line the glass door shelves. In the center, a table, where some manuscripts were opened so we could appreciate the handwriting, always with the portrait of Sir Robert Ho Tung watching over the integrity of the books. Silence and a certain solemnity created by the old bindings, or perhaps the well-drawn brush and ink characters, isolate the space from the outside hustle and bustle. As we approach the corridor on the enclosed porch, where the work desks for researchers are located, we realize that outside the city is already buzzing with the bustle of the end of the day, people leaving work, people coming home, and the sounds of cars, horns and brakes echoing from San Malo. Inside, nothing but silence and wonderful books waiting to be discovered.
