Exchanging Memories:

Q1 What is your strongest memory of your parents?

Shu-sen: When I was little I would think how great it would be if when I got home after school my mother were not lying in bed moaning. But she actually loved us very much. If we were hungry at night, she would force herself to get up and cook food.

My father was very good to us, but he was inarticulate. I remember one rainy day he went all the way to school to bring me an umbrella.

Shu-ching: My mother had a stroke when I was small. Shu-sen and I had to take care of her. She was married three times and lost two husbands. That gave me a sense of inexpressible melancholy.

My father was an old soldier. He had been through a lot and was very resilient. He never opposed my choices. Even now, when I feel helpless, inside I still call out for him.

Q2 How did your brother seem to you when you were young?

Shu-sen: Since he was small Shu-ching was wrapped up in his own world. He read well beyond his years. I was both envious and proud of him. But he couldn’t manage daily life. When we worked in the sweet potato fields, I told him flat out to quit.

Shu-ching: When I was bullied, Shu-sen stood up for me. In my eyes, he was like a big tree. I rented martial arts novels for him. During the day he hid in his blankets thinking up plotlines for the characters, and at night he talked in his sleep.

Q3 What do you think of when Kinmen is talked about as a battlefield?

Shu-sen: Kinmen kids all received civil defense training from a young age, including how to take care of a real gun. We hid the guns in our beds, and we felt the cold steel when we rolled over.

Shu-ching: It’s 48 years since China stopped shelling Kinmen. Most people remember the break in diplomatic relations with the US in 1979, but I most remember December 16, 1978, when 21 years of artillery fire ended.

Q4 How did you feel when you left Kinmen?

Shu-sen: The day I came to Taiwan, in my third year of senior high school, my mother sent me off with tears in her eyes. That scene has remained in my mind ever since.

Shu-ching: When I was young I already had something of a reputation in Kinmen [as a writer], but I had no soulmates and felt very unhappy. Leaving was my only option. Life in Taiwan was hard, but I found freedom.

The many driftwood paintings in Yang Shu-sen’s studio give the impression of a beautiful community. The people in the works seem to be murmuring to each other.

Q5 How did you support each other in Taiwan?

Shu-sen: When I fell ill at age 39, I felt very isolated, but he told me: “Whatever happens, don’t worry, we’ll face it together.” Those words were like an oasis in the desert.

Shu-ching: When I first came to Taiwan, he often rode his motorcycle to Taipei to visit me. If I wasn’t home, he would write me an encouraging note or leave me some spending money.

Q6 Do you still return to Kinmen?

Shu-sen: I have been gone for 50 years, and have rarely returned since my parents died. Now I am living on the North Coast and adapting to “being old.”

Shu-ching: My writing has always been inspired by Kinmen, so I need to go back. I still want to finish a tetralogy about my family. Then I want to found a literature museum in Kinmen to house my documents and artifacts.

Yang Shu-sen is a master at depicting human heads. The pensive and subdued emotions of his figures indicate a clear modern style and intriguing personal vocabulary.

Q7 Which figure from the past would you most like to meet?

Shu-sen: Besides my parents, it would be Van Gogh. I would like to quietly sit by his side as he paints.

Shu-ching: I would also like to meet Van Gogh, because his painter’s soul is like Shu-sen’s. Also my father, because his imagery is deeply embedded in my writing.

Q8 If today was your last day alive, what would you say to each other?

Shu-sen: I hope that Shu-ching would take better care of himself and find a partner to look after him.

Shu-ching: So long as there’s anyone anywhere still reading my books or looking at his paintings, then our lives have been well spent. I would sing that old song with Shu-sen, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother.” Our mutual attachment will persist through eternity.