Dear Editor,

As intellectuals from Taiwan we were deeply pained by the announcement in the January edition of Sinorama that the Chinese-Spanish edition was ceasing publication. Not long ago Macroview, Taiwan's only external Chinese-language TV station, stopped broadcasting (??not true?), and now the Spanish edition of Sinorama is gone too. This really saddens us, for it means that Taiwan has stopped speaking to the world! This is truly something that can only grieve Taiwan's friends and hearten its enemies. Since Taiwan's economy has taken off, everyone has had the impression that the island is awash with money and the government doesn't mind spending massive amounts on all kinds of things, yet when it comes to culture and publishing it is unbearably stingy. I emigrated to Argentina over 30 years ago, in 1968. Before that, in Taiwan, I worked as a writer for Mainland Today and the weekly magazine of Taiwan Television Enterprise. I also wrote columns for the Central Daily News, the China Daily News, Credit News (now the China Times), the Taiwan Shin Wen Daily News, the Great China Evening News, and the Saigon Far East Daily. In 1968 we were the only Chinese family in Cordoba, Argentina. We love Taiwan and are loyal to the Republic of China, so Sinorama became our favorite magazine. Now that this old friend is gone, we are left with a deep sense of frustration.

I don't like mainland Chinese publications one bit. It's no exaggeration to say that the Spanish edition of Sinorama has been a good friend for us here in this faraway place. If we can't watch Taiwanese television, and we can't read the Spanish edition of Sinorama, of course we can read the Chinese-English edition, but our many Argentinian friends and relations will have lost their beloved Sinorama.

Begonia star remembered

Hsu Yu-chin, Switzerland (tr. by Josh Aguiar)

Dear Editor,

The Potpourri section of the February 2001 overseas edition of Sinorama included a piece by Mr. Ke Cheng-ming, Begonia, that commemorated the identically titled classic film. The film's plot is a real tearjerker. The male and female leads were perfectly suited for their roles: male lead Lu Yukun was both handsome and debonair, and female lead Li Lihua, in addition to displaying her youthful beauty, was extremely charming, playing the parts of both mother and daughter in a truly seamless performance. However, Lu Yukun's name was misrepresented in the article as Lu Yu, an unlikely error given Mr. Ke's thorough understanding of the text. Therefore, it seems probable that the mistake was purely typographic.

Lu Yukun remained in mainland China after the Communist revolution. In the subsequent 40-50 years, China's artists and writers have suffered wave after wave of persecution at the hands of the communist government; it is indeed difficult to fathom how he endured. In 1990, six provinces in eastern China held a Chinese New Year celebration in Shanghai at which Lu represented Jiangxi province's 37 million people as a co-host. Though his 70 years had turned his hair gray, his former charm remained untarnished. It is already more than ten years since then-I wonder how he fares now.