In the Footsteps of Yang Mu

Dubbed an “erudite poet,” Yang Mu spent most of his life in Hualien and Seattle. In “Manuscript in a Bottle,” a poem composed in Seattle, the speaker glances westwards, in the direction of the setting sun and the tidal waters. The sight and sounds gesture towards the poet’s homeland on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. “All I know is that every wave starts from Hualien.” The Eastern Taiwanese county served as an essential metaphor throughout Yang’s literary endeavors.

Open to the general public, the Yang Mu Library is situated inside the main library of National Dong Hwa University.

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The late Hong Kong writer Xi Xi (1937–2022) observed that film and literature enriched her knowledge of Taiwan, and that Yang Mu’s poetry and prose—the fruit of many years’ assiduous work—offered access to an authentic version of Hualien, enabling her to feel that place. “Hualien will certainly be proud of Yang Mu,” she once said.

Indeed, Yang himself stated: “Hualien is my secret weapon.” Professor Hsu Yu-fang, who runs the Yang Mu Library at National Dong Hwa University (NDHU) in Hualien, sees Hualien as part of the imagery of Yang’s poetry. “As a poet, Yang derived his education and creative nourishment from Hualien. This is also the place where his secret, unspoken feelings coalesced.”

Yang wrote many topographical poems that revolve around various place names in Hualien. His star pupil Tseng Chen-chen (1954–2017), who founded the Graduate Institute of Creative Writing and English Literature at NDHU, said that this manifested Yang’s profound attention to Taiwan’s history and geography.

Let’s take a tour of Hualien through Yang’s poems. “Bringing You Back to Hualien,” a poem by Yang Mu that Yang Xian set to music, provides a fitting point of entry.

 
Together, let us glide to the cultivated valley below,

This is my homeland.

…

The pure white snowlines mark out its highest terrain,

The average temperature in January is 16°C,

In July it rises to 28°C.

Annual rainfall is 3,000 millimeters.

In winter the wind blows northeasterly;

In summer, southwesterly.

Though nature’s bounty is not lavish,

It will be enough to sustain us.

Together, let us glide to the cultivated valley below,

To witness the creation myths,

To work,

To till the soft, gentle lands.

…

Let us glide to the valley of harvest,

This is our homeland.

—Yang Mu, “Bringing You Back to Hualien” (1975)

The Former Book of Mt. Qilai contains Yang’s memories of Hualien and his personal reflections.

Point of departure: Taroko Gorge

Thus do I look down to plumb the origins of the mountains and waters here converging.

The drifting clouds are garments scattered in the air; springs cascade into streams.

Sunlight infiltrates the crisp chill and illuminates your crouching form,

An oft-troubled form, reminding me, through the grandeur of the towering cliffs,

Through the color of the giant rocks, the grace of the lush reeds,

How to find the strength for this long journey,

Overcome resistance and rejection,

To be close to you like this.

—Yang Mu, “Looking Down—The Liwu River, 1983”

Tseng Chen-chen pointed out that Yang Mu composed “Looking Down” after revisiting the Liwu River in Taroko National Park during his second visiting lectureship in the Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures at National Taiwan University. “The goddess of the Liwu River in the poem is actually an embodiment of the poet’s muse.”

Shiu Wen-wei, associate dean of the College of Liberal Arts at National Taiwan Normal University and former director of the Yang Mu Center for Literary Studies, thinks that this poem “represents a creation myth crafted by Yang Mu for his native land, during a trip to his old home in the prime of his life. It’s the most beautiful, down-to-earth landscape, something that belongs to the local people, the local settlement. The poem is saturated with desire, brimming with majesty.”

The Swallow Grotto in the Taroko Gorge boasts the island’s oldest marble rocks. Looking down on the magnificent gorge and the clear blue river while savoring the nuances of Yang Mu’s poem, we see this wonder of nature from a different perspective.

Yang’s “Looking Down—The Liwu River, 1983” was inspired by a visit to Eastern Taiwan’s Taroko Gorge.

Spot 2: Qixingtan

The sound of the tide has engulfed

The color of time.

With my back to those random permutations,

Various subtleties, in the penumbra where

The mountain and the shadows of clouds overlap—

I turn my face to the sea, hearing you talk

Of unexplained phantasms of memory.

—Yang Mu, “Qixingtan” (1996)

Shaped by tectonic movements, Qixingtan is known for its elegantly curving bay. Here tourists can enjoy wading or sitting on the shingle while listening to the music of the sea and reading Yang’s “Qixingtan.”

This poem was published in Yang’s Propositions in Temporality (1997). Yang was 56 when he composed it. Shiu Wen-wei says that Qixingtan was one of the poet’s favorite scenic spots. Here one may listen to the waves and contemplate, look at the stationary fishing nets on the surface of the sea and the sampans journeying between the shore and the blue distance, and admire sunsets and moonrises.

The late academic Tseng Chen-chen thought that Yang Mu’s poetry was nourished by the sea off Hualien.

Spot 3: Pine Garden

Like a silent river I have scrambled, I have meandered,

Measuring the tenderness of each gossamer hair, and above, in the guise

Of an evergreen tree, breaking through at midnight as if guided by unruly glowworms,

Diving from aloft, the plump, perfect creamy flesh

Meeting the nerve endings, ultra-

Sensitive. Look, the grass is sprinkled with dewdrops.

—Yang Mu, “Pine Garden” (1996)

Looking out over Hualien Port and the Pacific Ocean, with a commanding view of vessels entering and leaving the harbor, Pine Garden used to house the Karenkō Prefecture branch of the Japanese army’s department of military affairs. At the time, the first floor of the mansion was used as a recruitment office, while the second floor provided living quarters for military officers. It is said that kamikaze pilots drank their ceremonial liquor here—regarded as an honor bestowed by the Japanese emperor—the day before they departed for their final missions.

Yang’s “Pine Garden” depicts the last night of a kami­kaze pilot during World War II. Shiu Wen-wei emphasizes the vital importance of literary allusions in Yang’s poetry. In “Pine Garden,” Yang’s reference to the abundance of dew alludes to a poem in the ancient Chinese Classic of Poetry (Shijing, 11th–6th centuries BCE), where wild weeds and dewdrops are associated with affairs of the heart. If we are not aware of this, we will probably think that Yang is merely portraying the natural environment. The allusion, however, suggests that Yang is actually describing the suicide pilot making love to a woman at Pine Garden towards the end of the Pacific War. Encoding physical intimacy within its lines, the poem reminds us of the tragic fact that when morning comes, the war at sea will still be under way, and the young man will have to fulfill his destiny by embracing slaughter, pillage, and his own death.

Pine Garden used to house the Karenkō Prefecture branch of the Japanese army’s department of military affairs.

Spot 4: Yang Mu’s House

Having come to Hualien City, why not visit the secondhand bookshop at 57 Guangfu Street? This was formerly the site of Dongyi Printers, a company established by Yang’s father, Yang Shuisheng. Yang’s first collection of poems, On the Water Margin, was printed here. The place remains a literary landmark esteemed by Hualien’s booklovers.

Shiu Wen-wei also recommends that we gather clues from Yang’s The Former Book of Mt. Qilai (2003)—an ­autobiographical work written in prose—and visit the former staff accommodation of National Hualien Senior High School and the house of musician Guo Zijiu (1919–1999) in the quiet backstreets of the city, immersing ourselves in the old-time elegance of these Japanese-era buildings.

The secondhand bookshop at 57 Guangfu Street is a literary landmark for booklovers in Hualien City.

Yang’s memoir Storms over Hills and Ocean (1987) mentions that his family moved to 91 Nanjing Street, Hualien City, when he was three or four years old. The house has since changed hands several times and is not open to the public.

Yang’s first collection of poems, On the Water Margin, is long since out of print.

Spot 5: The Shapodang River

A lizard is breathing in the starlight

Slowly swelling, the river will soon

Submerge its stiff cold front toes, hind toes

In the lingering warmth of Sirius

Soak the tail, leaving only

The tip of that long tongue marking its place, like a will-o’-the-wisp

Softly trembling through an enlightening melancholy,

Glimmering in our dreams

—Yang Mu, “Shapodang” (2003)

Yang once said that as a child he would cycle to Shapodang and play in the river, which for him was the best way to keep cool in the summer. Shapodang is like a secret garden for local residents. When we walk into the secluded place, we can feel its spirit at once, cradled in the green lap of the Central Mountain Range.

Shiu Wen-wei explains that Yang’s poem delves into local indigenous culture and history in a sophisticated manner by referencing a massacre suffered by the Sakizaya and the customs of the Amis, concluding with the cosmological patterns found in the ancient Book of Changes (Yijing, c. Zhou Dynasty). In doing so, Yang sought to testify to undocumented historical legacies.

Interspersed with images such as shamanesses, flying squirrels, and wildcats, Yang’s poem “Shapodang” enables visitors to imagine the primeval landscape of this enclosed paradise.

Spot 6: Mt. Qilai from Muguaxi Bridge

While Mt. Mugua is visible from many places in Hualien, to admire Mt. Qilai it is a good idea to follow Provincial Highway 9 southwards until you reach the bridge over the Mugua River. There, weather permitting, you will be able to glimpse the North Peak of Qilai if you look northwest along the Mugua Valley.

Quoting from Propositions in Temporality, Shiu Wen-wei points out that Yang returned to Taiwan feeling frustrated after a stint at the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology, where he had helped establish the School of Humanities and Social Science. Yang’s poem “Looking Up” contains these words: “Even if, dragging my feet, I cannot come, why don’t you come to me?” The poem expresses an intellectual’s insistence on humanistic values in carrying out his public duties, even when under pressure and criticism from all quarters. However, as these lines suggest, it is the majesty and steadfastness of Mt. Qilai and Mt. Mugua that calm the mind of the vacillating poet.

The great mountain stands unmoving; still

Its mighty stillness tantalizes my unsettled

Wavering heart. I hear echoes

Like sea waves, when leaning against memory I thus sit long

In boundless peace, with the same measure of regret, looking up

To gaze on eternity.

—Yang Mu, “Looking Up—Mt. Mugua, 1995”

Looking along the Mugua Valley, we may catch a glimpse of the North Peak of Mt. Qilai.
(courtesy of Tsui Tsuhsi)

Last stop: Yang Mu Library, NDHU

Having spent more than 30 years teaching in America and elsewhere, Yang returned to Taiwan in 1995. Here he helped establish the College of Humanities and Social Sciences at NDHU. The master of fine arts program in creative writing that he set up there is the first academic program in Taiwan to invite famous writers, including poet Ya Xian and novelist Huang Chun-ming, to take up residencies, thus ushering in the distinctive culture of creative writing at the university.

Yang loved to stroll along the second-floor walkway connecting NDHU’s humanities college buildings on his way to his impeccably clean and minimally furnished dean’s office. Hsu Yu-fang says with a smile that because the walkway is rarely crowded, it is referred to as an “NDHU scenic spot” by staff and students. Yang’s poem “Hares: Witnessed at National Dong Hwa University on July 20” pays tribute to the Formosan hare, one of the campus’s “three treasures,” the others being ring-necked pheasants and Chinese spiranthes orchids.

Pegatron chairman Tung Tzu-hsien, who also hails from Hualien, has been a great admirer of Yang since his early years. An entrepreneur keen on art and literature, Tung has learned many of Yang’s poems by heart. Once, during a talk, he burst into tears while reciting Yang’s “Hualien.” Yang’s poetry has played a significant role in Tung’s life, offering strength and solace in trying times.

Open to the general public, the Yang Mu Library inside ­NDHU’s main library provides access to the poet’s manuscripts, typewriter, and published works, as well as books he owned. Among the highlights is Yang’s first collection, On the Water Margin, now out of print.

After many years overseas, Yang eventually returned to Taiwan and lived out the rest of his life here. Embarking on his publishing journey at the age of 16, he devoted more than six decades to writing. Just as T.S. ­Eliot remains a towering figure in English-language literature, many writers today feel humbled by the “Yang Mu phenomenon.” Researchers also find in Yang’s poetry an inexhaustible wellspring of topics to explore and ponder. By retracing Yang’s literary footsteps in Hualien, we can gain fresh inspiration from his timeless words.

Yang loved to stroll along the second-floor walkway that connects NDHU’s humanities college buildings.

The poet’s manuscripts, typewriter, publications, and personal book collection are on display in the Yang Mu Library.