郭明正揭開霧社事件迷霧

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2013 / 5月

文‧滕淑芬 圖‧遠流出版社提供


2011年導演魏德聖的抗日史詩鉅片《賽德克.巴萊》上映,引起廣大迴響,當時擔任電影劇本翻譯的郭明正「偷偷寫下」跟拍札記,出版《真相.巴萊》一書;繼而他又身陷族語將凋零的焦慮感,完成《又見真相:賽德克族與霧社事件》。

郭明正是霧社事件馬赫坡部落後裔的子孫,這兩本書是首次由「本族」自己詮釋族裔文化的第一手紀錄,更是他的尋根之旅。


清晨天際微亮,郭明正就起身寫作,他獨自面對祖靈與遺老的託付,常常因為歷史太貼近、傷痛太劇烈、情感太深刻而停筆;有一個月他一個字也寫不出來,只能藉酒消愁,祈禱祖靈再給他力量。

尤其當寫到部落個別家族的故事時,他猶豫再三,到底要寫到什麼程度?

「因為還牽涉到現在子孫的感受,我得面對『寫字的人』與『看字的人』的挑戰。」過去二十多年郭明正在部落訪談遺老時,常會聽到連他父親都不知道的事,例如抗日的是他們村落,其他部落都在旁邊涼快,某某人死得很慘等陳述。寫出來,他擔心下一代看了很受傷;不寫,又覺得若有負遺老,死後可能跨不過彩虹橋(賽德克族的祖靈之地),下筆分外沉重。

此時,「我對諄諄教誨的遺老與部落族老們所做的承諾」喚醒了他、支撐著他,去年底才終於完成這本以族老紀錄為本,描述賽族起源、霧社事件前因後果、賽族後裔等,呈現賽族文化歷史的《又見真相:賽德克族與霧社事件》。

在迷霧中揭開真相

1930年,南投仁愛鄉霧社的6個原住民部落因不滿日本統治者長期苛虐而秘密串連起義,在霧社公學校運動會當天突襲日人,事後遭到日本武力與大軍鎮壓,參與行動的部落幾乎遭到滅族的厄運。

原本一千二百多名族人,剩下600人,日人為防範部落再次抗爭,翌年強行將族人遷至川中島(今日仁愛清流部落)。當時族人從一千多公尺的高海拔山區,降到海拔450公尺的平台居住,距離傳統狩獵與生活領域有50公里之遙,氣候水土完全不同,以致不少族人承受不了離開家園的痛苦而選擇自殺或逃亡被殺。

霧社事件對賽族的衝擊與巨大傷害,讓活下來的餘生驚恐未定,此後無人敢再提起。

對郭明正這一輩族人來說,霧社事件的迷茫多於清晰,甚至誤解多於了解,因為小時候祖父與父親也是三緘其口。

59歲的郭明正,台灣師範大學工業教育系畢業,是埔里高工的機械科老師,2003年退休。他真正開始有意識地研究本族歷史文化,是在他37歲(1990年)生了一場大病後。

療養期間,郭明正定期得去埔里一家醫驗所抽血、驗血,這裡的醫檢師正是曾以小說手法書寫霧社事件始末《風中緋櫻》的作者、知名的文史工作者鄧相揚。會略說賽德克語的鄧相揚,藏有豐富的日月潭史料、平埔族與賽族的中日文書籍。

「Dakis(郭明正族名),祖先歷史不能或忘,你們祖先抗暴的創舉應由你們身為後裔者來詮釋,包括你們族群的口傳歷史、文化語言、歌謠等,都應文字化,」鄧相揚對他說。

「我就在田野之中!」

受到鄧相揚的鼓勵,郭明正開始向部落遺老請教,並參與中研院、史博館、原民會等賽族族語翻譯與研究工作。

「越了解自己的族群,越擔心族語會死掉,」郭明正說,賽德克沒有文字,所有經驗與智慧都靠口傳,眼看族老們快速凋零,讓他心急如焚,必須紀錄自己的文化。

他指出,早年有些外來者到部落進行田野調查時,常發生令他啼笑皆非的文化差異問題。例如問他,「獵人在哪裡?」天生就是狩獵民族的賽族人郭明正,以玩笑口吻說,「真的很想打死他,我不知道怎麼回答這麼簡單的問題,每個人都是獵人啊。」

或者當他幫研究單位翻譯族語時,看到形容部落山川秀麗、河水碧波盪漾的字眼時,也很令他為難。「我們每天都在這種環境生活,不知道怎麼形容秀麗?」若遇到交通規則,他更是沒輒,都市裡的走路靠右邊走,「若翻成族語,我們會掉到懸崖下,因為右邊根本沒有路。」

「祖父生長的時代和爸爸的生活背景已經不太一樣了,」郭明正說,早年族人犁田用的鐵牛,現在都消失了,年輕一代更不可能知道老人稱照片為「鬼影子」,語言深藏很多生活智慧,如果族語消失,文化是不是也會不見呢?

郭明正默默為保存族群文化所作的努力,在2009年導演魏德聖籌拍《賽德克.巴萊》時,受到重視。他被魏德聖請來擔任電影顧問,第一件工作就是將劇本翻譯成賽德克語。

「翻譯真的很難,簡單的如『衝啊!殺啊!』的台詞,我們族語裡沒有這種話,我們也沒有像漢人會講的『把你殺掉』這種威脅的話。」他花了不少心力思考,並請教老人,如何用族語傳達出激勵大家衝出去的吶喊,再三拿捏才寫下,「把你的肝提起來!把你的脾氣拿出來」等譯句。

當他開始認真翻譯後,常常一面翻一面哭,一想到那些事、這些人,就是他的先祖和認識的長輩,常忍不住激動的情緒。

在劇情張力與史實間掙扎

對魏德聖窮盡12年時間籌拍此片,並且誠懇又尊重族人的文化傳統,郭明正以賽德克的「反話玩笑」形容個子不高的魏德聖如「小巨人」;但他也會將自己的觀點與導演討論,指出劇本與文化、歷史史實不符之處,「這和我的Gaya(指賽族律法與文化儀式)不一樣。」

例如劇本描述,魯道.鹿黑(莫那.魯道的父親)帶族人去打獵,突然一隻賽族靈鳥繡眼畫眉飛下來,叫出美麗的聲音,所有人都高興地笑了。

郭明正說,對族人來說,狩獵是神聖的事,進入獵區絕對禁止嬉戲笑鬧,即使遇到令人雀躍的事,只能笑在心裡,絕不能形於色。

另外像片中莫那‧魯道和父親為道澤部落領導人的鐵木‧瓦力斯因小故結下樑子、互撂狠話,一個說長大後要取你的頭,一個說不會讓你長大,這完全脫離原住民文化,比較像漢人的想像。

郭明正解釋,當時莫那已是馬赫坡頭目,有其威望,並受人敬重,怎麼可能對小孩說出「我不會讓你長大」這種話。

而最讓他不安與憂慮的是,影片中強化兩部落的仇恨,如此刻畫,猶如在傷口上灑鹽,更難化解部族之間的誤解。事實上,賽德克族、泰雅族和太魯閣族本是同一族群,祖先都源自今日中央山脈東側的牡丹岩(今日花蓮縣秀林山區),後來因生活環境變動、遷移,以致語言略有差異,但都屬於文面民族,本是一家人。

踏上尋根不歸路

深知電影具有強大傳播力道的郭明正,知道他的兒女這一代,已沒有多少人會說族語,年輕一代可能得透過影視文化認識自己祖先與當時生活的樣貌。

一方面因他肩負演員發音、服裝髮型、場景道具擺設的考據工作,若與史實差距太遠,他擔心不符合遺老的期望。

另一方面,他也能理解導演的創作堅持。例如有一場戲,他對魏德聖說,「你把我們祖先砍的頭加了好幾倍,戰鬥場面裡,我們死一兩個、對方死十幾二十個,這樣會不會有點太神勇、有點太好萊塢電影啦?後來導演有調整一下。」

「拍片的最大壓力之一,就是郭明正像老鷹一樣在旁邊觀察。」魏德聖多次向郭明正解釋,「電影需有張力和震撼力,才能扣人心弦,有些情節難免虛構,希望族人能諒解。」

2011年隨著《賽德克.巴萊》上映,受到海內外矚目,在面對可能引發族人討論與質疑的壓力下,郭明正寫下自己跟片一年的複雜心情,完成《真相.巴萊》一書,書中對於莫那.魯道的生平事績、形象與歷史定位,從史料與遺老的口述紀錄中提出另一種觀點;電影中的多位主角也一一回歸歷史脈絡與當時在部落的地位。

該書出版後,引發一陣賽德克文化熱,郭明正「誤闖寫作深淵」的使命感得到很大回饋。於是第二本重現當年他訪談族老的口述紀錄,以及祖先發動霧社事件的悲壯歷史,又經由他的筆下重現。

「今天我不下筆,恐將永無賽德克歷史文化的文字紀錄。」但即使完成兩本著作,郭明正仍感慨霧社事件「沒有真相,因為知道真相的人都不在了。」

「族老們,我的力量真的就這樣而已!請你們一定要原諒我。」郭明正書寫賽族歷史的工作會繼續下去,只希望能告慰祖靈。

後《賽德克‧巴萊》時代的族群和解

4月中,台中科博館放映紀錄片《餘生》、《霧社──川中島》,從另一個角度解讀霧社事件,並邀請相關族群代表與學者座談,希望在電影《賽德克.巴萊》激情過後的一年,重新凝聚原住民的力量。以下為會中部份意見:

泰雅族作家瓦歷斯‧諾幹、黑帶‧巴彥等人的綜合意見:

賽族未正式正名前,我們都認為霧社事件是泰雅族的歷史。但《賽片》上映後,在很多場合聽到,「這不是你們泰雅族的事」,可見電影的影響力,大家只看到莫那.魯道和賽族扮演的角色。日人治台期間,原住民至少發生過大大小小200次抗日戰役,原來泰雅族的人口是超過阿美族的,卻因戰火分崩離析、戰死,原民力量也逐漸被削弱。

這是一個省思機會,反省原住民夠不夠團結,若誤解無法化解就會被外人再利用。泰雅、太魯閣和賽德克都是文面民族,我們現在應思考如何和解、繼續走下去,讓後代子孫知道原住民可以攜手合作。

台大歷史系教授周婉窈:

霧社事件對我的啟發就是必須傾聽部落的聲音,霧社事件其實延續很久,直到第2年日人還在清算,留下來的創傷至今也還沒結束。賽片有很多正面反應,我們教書這麼多年,結果一部電影就讓大家知道賽族都有3大語群,這是很大的突破。

日人治台,花了很長時間摸索如何進入部落,並利用鹽、鐵器與槍枝的買賣來掌控原住民。1920年全球性流感爆發後,也在台中梨山一帶的泰雅部落蔓延,當時很多族人認為這是被日人傳染而屢屢發動出草、襲擊日警的抗爭。日人再次採取以「以蕃治蕃」的伎倆,調來霧社地區的部落圍剿自己的族人,這就是「紗拉茂事件」。霧社起義不是單獨事件,必須從大歷史的角度來看待。

(滕淑芬整理)

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EN

The Ancestors’ Tales

Dakis Pawan Tells the Truth about Wushe

Teng Sue-feng /photos courtesy of courtesy of Yuan-Liou Publishing /tr. by Geof Aberhart

In 2011 director Wei Te-sheng’s historical epic See­diq Bale hit screens across Taiwan to a rapturous reception. Da­kis Pa­wan, the man responsible for translating Wei’s script into the Seediq language, also kept a shooting diary as the film was being made, ultimately publishing it as Truth Bale. Driven by a growing sense of anxiety about the decline of the Seediq language, Da­kis Pa­wan followed his first book with Returning to the Truth: The Seediq People and the Wushe Incident.

Dakis Pawan is a descendant of Mahebo Village, on which the incident centered, and these two books are his interpretation of first-hand accounts, as well as being a search for his own roots as a member of the Seediq tribe.


At the crack of dawn Da­kis Pa­wan rises from his slumber and sets to writing, sitting alone confronting the enormity of the task entrusted to him by his ancestors and the living elders and witnesses to the Wushe Incident. Often, overwhelmed by his closeness to the tragic events and the wounds still so fresh, he finds himself having to stop writing from the sheer emotion of it all. At one point, he went a full month without writing a word, dulling the pain with alcohol and praying to his ancestors for the strength to continue.

And when it came to writing the story of the families of his own ancestral village, Ma­hebo, Da­kis Pa­wan had to think carefully about just how far he wanted to take things.

For the past 20 years Da­kis Pa­wan has interviewed elderly survivors of the Wu­she Incident, often learning things even his own father didn’t know, like how lukewarm the neighboring villages were on Ma­hebo’s anti-Japanese vendetta, or the horrific way in which certain individuals died. Given what he heard, Da­kis Pa­wan was quickly in two minds about writing the books—on the one hand, he worried that later generations would be distraught by the stories; on the other, he felt a duty to those survivors, concerned that if he didn’t tell their stories, they would be left unable to “cross the rainbow bridge” into the See­diq afterlife.

When such concerns arose, “the promises I made to those patient survivors and the other elders of the tribe” compelled and drove him, says Da­kis Pa­wan. At the end of 2012 those promises were finally fulfilled as Returning to the Truth: The Seediq People and the Wushe Incident was published, telling the tales of the origins of the See­diq people and the causes and effects of the Wu­she Incident.

A truth long shrouded

In 1930 six Aboriginal villages near what is now Wu­she in Nan­tou County’s Ren’ai Township rose up against their Japanese colonial rulers, having suffered years of maltreatment at their hands. On the day Mu­sha Public School (“Mu­sha” being the Japanese name of Wu­she) held its sports day, the Aboriginal alliance launched a surprise attack on the Japanese, an attack which subsequently brought down the full force of Japanese military might on them, with the participating villages all but wiped out.

Less than half of the 1200-plus Aboriginal inhabitants of the area survived, and to prevent a second uprising, the Japanese drove the 600 survivors out of Mu­sha to Ka­wa­na­ka­jima (now Qing­liu Village in Ren’ai Township). The change in living situation was dramatic—where once they had lived in mountains at an elevation of over 1000 meters, now they were down to flatlands at 450 m, and they had been pushed over 50 kilometers from their traditional home and hunting grounds. With their new environment and climate so drastically different, many people were unable to bear the change, opting instead to either take their own lives or try to flee and be killed in the attempt.

So traumatic to the survivors was the entire incident that people thereafter dared not even bring it up.

Da­kis Pa­wan, now aged 59, graduated from the Department of Industrial Education at National Taiwan Normal University, and today teaches mechanical engineering at Puli Vocational School. He was first inspired to study this history of his people after being struck with a serious illness at the age of 37.

During his recovery, he had to go for regular blood tests at a clinic in Puli, and the technologist that handled his tests happened to be Deng Xiang­yang, a well-known historian and author of Dana Sa­kura, a novel about the Wu­she Incident.

“Dakis, it’s important that you remember your ancestors and your history. It’s your duty to understand and interpret their efforts and resistance.”

In the field

Inspired by Deng, Da­kis Pa­wan set about seeking out tribal elders and asking for their instruction, as well as participating in research into the See­diq tribe and translating materials into the See­diq language with organizations like Academia Sinica and the Council of Indigenous Peoples.

“The more I understood about my own people, the more concerned I became about the death of the language,” says Da­kis Pa­wan. Traditionally the See­diq lacked a writing system, with all of their accumulated knowledge and experience being passed down orally. Seeing the ever-decreasing number of living tribal elders, he felt a growing sense of urgency.

He recalled a time when some field researchers visited his village with questions that revealed the huge cultural difference and threw him for a loop, like “Where are all the hunters?” With a laugh Da­kis Pa­wan says, “I felt like just smacking him in the face. How was I supposed to answer that? Everyone was a hunter!”

“Things have changed so much since my father and grandfather were children,” says Da­kis Pa­wan. The devices the people used to use to plough their fields have long since vanished, and the younger generations simply cannot understand why the elders call photographs “ghost images.” “There’s so much everyday wisdom buried in language. If the See­diq language disappears, doesn’t it follow that the culture will disappear too?”

Over the years Da­kis Pa­wan worked quietly at preserving his tribe’s culture, with his work only really receiving attention in 2009 as Wei Te-sheng was preparing to shoot See­diq Bale. Wei invited him to serve as a consultant for the film, with his first task being to translate the script from Chinese into Seediq.

“Translation’s a difficult job,” says Da­kis Pa­wan. “Even simple lines like ‘Kill them!’ and ‘Charge!’ were problematic because traditionally our tribe doesn’t really use threatening language like that.” He racked his brain and consulted elders to try and find ways of properly communicating such exhortations in See­diq, ultimately opting for more euphemistic phrasings like “Show them what you’re made of!” and “Vent your anger!”

When he set about translating the script, he often found himself brought to tears by the thought of the events and people about which he was writing, and about how the people involved were his own ancestors and even the elders he himself had met.

Torn between drama and accuracy

In light of Wei’s 12 years of work preparing the film and his obvious respect for Seediq culture and tradition, with a typical Seediq sense of humor Dakis Pawan refers to the short-statured Wei as “a little giant.” But even with all that work behind it, Da­kis Pa­wan would still also offer his own perspective to the director, providing script and cultural notes and pointing out where things deviated from history; “This doesn’t fit with our gaya [the Seediq laws and rituals].”

For example, when in the film Mona Ru­dao and Temu Wa­lis, whose father was chief of the Toda subtribe, share harsh words over a minor incident—one saying that when he grows up, he’ll take the other’s head, the other saying he won’t let him grow up—this totally deviates from See­diq culture, instead being a more Han Chinese way of thinking.

As Da­kis Pawan explains, at that time Mona Ru­dao was already the leader of Ma­hebo Village and thus a man of prestige who commanded respect—how would someone in that kind of position threaten to kill a child?

But what left him most uncomfortable and anxious was the way the film reinforces the ill feeling between the two groups, rubbing salt into the wound and making it harder to clear up misunderstandings between the villages and tribes today. In reality, the various See­diq subtribes, along with the neighboring ­Atayal and ­Truku tribes, share a common heritage, their shared mythical primogenitor having come from Mu­dan Cliff on the eastern side of the Central Mountain Range (today part of Hualien County’s Xiu­lin Township). It was only later, as their living environments changed and groups moved that their languages and cultures began to diverge, although they continued to share the tradition of facial tattooing. Ultimately, though, they consider themselves one big family.

No turning back

Well aware of the wide reach of cinema, and also aware of the sparse number of people in his children’s generation who can speak See­diq, Da­kis Pa­wan realized that See­diq Bale might very well be a means for that younger generation to learn about their culture and ancestors.

But he also appreciates that a director will feel attached to his work. At one stage he commented to Wei, “The number of heads you’re having our ancestors lop off is many times larger than reality! Don’t you think it’s a little too Hollywood to have us losing one or two, but killing a couple dozen?” After this, Wei adjusted the number down a bit.

Wei has remarked, “One of the biggest stresses of shooting was having Da­kis Pa­wan watching me like a hawk at all times.” On several occasions Wei explained to Da­kis Pa­wan, “A movie needs tension and excitement to grab the audience, so of course a few things are going to be fictionalized a bit, and hopefully the See­diq will be understanding.”

Upon its release in 2011, See­diq Bale drew significant attention at home and abroad, and faced with questions and comments from other See­diq, Da­kis Pa­wan decided to write about his feelings and experiences from the making of the film. Thus was Truth Bale born, which also traces the historical realities behind several of the film’s major characters.

After the book was published, interest in See­diq culture rose across Taiwan for a period, and Da­kis Pa­wan, who never anticipated becoming an author, began feeling that his efforts were being rewarded. With his second book aiming to reconstruct the truth of what happened, he interviewed several tribal elders and recorded their stories, bringing his people’s perspective on the tragedy to life through his writing.

“And to my elders, both still with us and in the world of the spirits, I say: ‘Nii naq bale beyax mu di, rudan ha! Srwai ku bale!’ (My elders, this is truly as much as is within my power to do! Please forgive me!)” It is with these words that Da­kis Pa­wan ends the preface to his latest book. Meanwhile, his work to record the history of the Seediq continues, and hopefully his efforts will give some peace to the spirits of his ancestors.

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