Taiwan's senior cartoonist, Yeh Hung-chia, passed away on April 23 this year. In late '40s and early '50s he captivated the hearts of adults and children alike with the cartoon characters, such as Chu-ko Szu-lang, that flowed from his pen and lifted the comic strip on Taiwan to unprecedented heights.
Comics flourished with extraordinary vigor on Taiwan at the time. In addition to Yeh Hung-chia, the ranks of premier cartoonists included the likes of Chen Hai-hung, Chen Ting-kuo, Liu Hsing-chin, Chen Kuan-hsi and Chiu Hsi-hsun.
Yeh's wife, Yeh-Chen Chin-lien, recalls, "Back then a comic book of his would sell 100,000 copies a week." Given the limited purchasing power of twenty or thirty years ago, that kind of popularity is really astonishing.
Sixteen years ago Yeh suffered a mild stroke in a traffic accident and ceased working. In the past few years, in view of the burgeoning vigor of younger cartoonists in the country, he picked up his pen once again and submitted his work to the newspapers but unexpectedly met up with rejections.
Liu Hsing-chin and Niu Ko have tried to make comebacks too, but the response is said to be a far cry from what it was in the old days.
Cheng Wen, adept at ink-splash cartoons and a favorite with both Chinese and Japanese readers, says that he was raised on the comics of the older cartoonists but their recent works leave him feeling that a new generation has come to the fore. "They haven't made any advances in themes or techniques, and they seem a little out of touch with the times."
Why have these luminaries of yesteryear lost so much of their luster?
"If you're looking to place blame, then blame the Ministry of Education's review system, which stifled comics on Taiwan for twenty years," says Chi Hsi-hsun, who switched to painting in tars.
With the rationale that comic strips adversely affected children's learning and development, the ministry issued regulations in 1962 for the review and licensing of comics prior to publication.
"From an educational point of view, screening out harmful reading matter was a well-intentioned idea. But the board members were way out of their depth, and the review process was nitpicking, ossified and absolutely fatal to creativity," Chiu says. He still recalls the time he took in a cartoon for review and a board member pointed to a frame with a man and a dog in it and said, "Since when can dogs talk? Any child who reads this would wind up in a straight jacket!" Ch'iu tore up his drafts and decided to call it quits.
Niu Ko, who gave up drawing comics for years before returning to the easel just last year, adds, "That the judges were out of their depth was one thing, but what made it even worse was they were biased." Some publishers traced over Japanese comics or simply photocopied them, substituting Chinese dialogue for the Japanese, and sent them off for review. "Nobody minded if Japanese dogs talked. They could be singing songs for that matter, and they'd still get through."
Since publishers could make scads of money copying Japanese comics at minimal cost, how many could be expected to hire local artists to draw comics of their own? For that reason, the Taiwan comics market fell almost completely under the sway of the Japanese for the next twenty years.
In 1981 Niu Ko sued the review board, suspecting it was receiving kickbacks from the publishers, and even though the suit finally petered out into nothing, the incident attracted a lot of attention in the media and gave local cartoonists a new ray of hope.
"We have a love-hate relationship with Japanese comics. We'd like to break away from them but we can't," says Jen Cheng-hua, one of the few cartoonists to use girls as her chief characters and one of the few women cartoonists on Taiwan.
Even Tsai Chih-chung, Taiwan's highest paid cartoonist, showed a heavy Japanese influence in his early works. But as indefatigable as he is, he kept on digging up new material until he finally came into his own with his versions of the Chinese classics, such as Confucius Says and The Sayings of Chuang-tse. The latter, now in its 95th edition, has set the sales record for a cartoon collection on Taiwan. The two books were both translated into Japanese, and although they sold only 20,000 to 30,000 copies there, Tsai's attempt to go international and redress the imitation slur is still worthy of encouragement.
Hung Teh-lin, who studied in Japan, says that comics account for around one fourth of the 2 trillion yen of books and magazines sold there every year. "Last year they sold 1.7 billion comic books in Japan. Little Ding-Dong alone sold 60 million."
In Japan comics have become a part of the culture, and almost everyone on the subway--young and old, man, woman and child--has a comic book in hand.
"With us though, the idea is still to borrow or rent a book whenever you can, and development has naturally been limited," says Chiu Hsi-hsun. Without higher pay, he asks, what motivation is there for cartoonists to be more painstaking and creative in their work, and how can quality be raised?
There are other factors involved as well.
"It's clearly stipulated that Japanese comics shouldn't be imported, but the market is rife with them," says Ao Yu-hsiang, who achieved overnight fame with his strip Muddled Monastery. Publishers of pirated comics evade taxes, they use cheap paper and printing, and they skim off the cream of the crop to purvey to readers only too willing to plop down for whatever's bigger and cheaper. How can local cartoon magazines compete with opponents who don't play by the rules?
If you look at the bookstalls, NT$50 copies of Little Ding-Dong, City Hunter or Saint (all from Japan) are sold out in a few days while an NT$45 weekly cartoon magazine produced in Taiwan languishes on the shelf in solitary splendor.
Jen Cheng-hua believes that legally imported comics mustn't be limited to Japan but should reach out to include a whole spectrum of varieties from Europe and North America, stimulating domestic cartoonists' imagination and creativity.
Besides government action to strengthen the free flow of information and produce a sounder business environment, the print media should also live up to their responsibility for cultivating creative cartoonists.
"The environment for comics on Taiwan is really awful," Chung Wen says. "The readership just hasn't been cultivated. To be frank, it's discouraging drawing them." He mentions that a new strip of his that appeared in the Japanese cartoon weekly Morning in early March elicited more than a hundred letters from readers the very first week, a figure equal to the grand total of his fan mail on Taiwan over six years. "I've always worked as hard as I can, but the only applause I get is from foreigners!"
His present strategy is to "assault Japan first, gain a beachhead there and then circle back to strike Taiwan." Although he says it's based on strictly practical considerations, that circuitous route reveals a certain amount of frustration and desperation.
The number of publications on Taiwan has increased dramatically since the lifting of martial law, and the flourishing situation is often cited as proof that local comics and cartoons are enjoying a new lease on life, but in fact they were in such a parlous condition to begin with that they can hardly be termed in the pink of health. The efforts of Cheng Wen and a few others may be examples of struggling in adversity, but what about the rest? At this turning point, it will require greater efforts and participation to enable Taiwan's comic strips to shake off the burden of the past.
[Picture Caption]
Yeh Hung-chia
Yeh Hung-chia's comics, such as Chu-ko Szu-lang, once ruled the roost. He is caricatured above by fellow cartoonist Hung Teh-lin.
Niu Ko
"Beauty" contests through the ages? From Uncle Ox Freeloade to Demimonde, Niu Ko ("Brother Ox") has maintained a distinctive style of his own.
Liu Hsing-chin
Liu Hsing-chin's cartoons are full of local color and suitable for children and adults alike.
Hung Teh-lin
Hung Teh-lin, who admits to comic-book addition, is happily ensconced in a home that resembles a book rental stall.
Ao Yu-hsiang
This is Au Yu-hsiang, who achieved instant acclaim with Muddled Monastery.
Cheng Wen
Cheng Wen's expressive ink-splash strips have a unique style of their own. (courtesy of Cartoon Weekly)
The sex and violence that permeates Japanese comics appeals to the tastes of young people these days.
"Beauty" contests through the ages? From Uncle Ox Freeloade to Demimonde, Niu Ko ("Brother Ox") has maintained a distinctive style of his own.
Liu Hsing-chin's cartoons are full of local color and suitable for children and adults alike.
Hung Teh-lin, who admits to comic-book addition, is happily ensconced in a home that resembles a book rental stall.
This is Au Yu-hsiang, who achieved instant acclaim with Muddled Monastery.
Cheng Wen's expressive ink-splash strips have a unique style of their own. (courtesy of Cartoon Weekly)
The sex and violence that permeates Japanese comics appeals to the tastes of young people these days.