Anyone engaged in writing or literary activity, besides seeking to satisfy an individual creative urge, inevitably also has some thoughts that he or she wishes to express to society and the public at large. From the standpoint of a lover of literature, as both a reader and a writer, I would like to talk a little about my personal thoughts on literature and on some of the things I have read to serve as a point of reference. These opinions are solely my own and have no relation to my duties as an official. What I want to discuss with you today is the question of point of view and feelings in writing and literature.

The Individual and the Environment

Descriptions of individuals and the environment, in the literary works that I have seen, tend to be full of sympathy toward the fate and experience of the individual, toward hardship and poverty, lamenting the nature of the universe and the condition of man, but they adopt a critical, even abusive tone in describing the larger environment of the country and the people as a whole. In other words, these writers feel sympathy with man as an individual but resentment and hostility for the greater environment, for man in the collective. To describe relations between the individual and the environment from this point of view is somewhat skewed, I believe. The result is that the individual seems to bear little responsibility for his actions while we are full of expectations and execrations for the country and the nation. Writing literary works from this point of view is, I feel, neither a very sound method nor a fair one.

When we say that our society is not advanced, we want to urge the government to go forward, but we also want to take a look at ourselves rather than simply excoriating the whole environment. The whole environment, after all, is built up bit by bit by each member of society. When we criticize society's darkness, filth, and disorder, we mustn't forget that society is made up of individuals. Some people say that a nation is no better than its people. It's an iron law, I suppose. If the majority of society from inside out, from their spiritual life to their material life, is not very healthy, then we can hardly expect to have a healthy society. I always find that our literary works are lenient and tolerant toward the individual, yet harsh and demanding toward society and the greater environment. This is a problem worth pondering and one I want to ask each of you to think about today.

The China Complex and the Taiwan Complex

In talking about viewpoint and feelings in writing and literature, we have to consider the temporal background. One problem shrouding the Republic of China on Taiwan in the 1980's is that of the "China complex" and the "Taiwan complex." I'm a student of history. Recently I saw an article with the title "A Cracked and Broken Face," under which was a picture of a shattered mirror. What did this article say? It said that everything about Taiwan is cracked and broken, awful, negative. But in fact, society never will be perfect. People themselves aren't perfect, so how can there be a perfect society? This is not to say that we have no problems today. What country doesn't? What we want to explore is whether our problems are more numerous or more serious than other people's. I think that's the approach we want to take.

If it's ethnic fusion you're talking about, I personally believe that over the entire 5,000-year history of the Chinese people it's only during the past forty years or so on Taiwan that this has really been achieved. Alien peoples have invaded and migrated to China repeatedly over the centuries, yet never have people from all parts of the country, both north and south of the Yangtze, with different dialects and ways of life, gathered together on one island and lived together for as long as forty years.

People ask why Taiwan is such a success story. Well, it's often said that the reason why the United States has become a first-class world power is because it has garnered the best and brightest from around the world and allowed them to give free rein to their talents and intelligence. So the U.S. is said to be a melting pot of nations. Actually, the most important reason for the success story of the Republic of China is that Taiwan is a melting pot of the Chinese nation. It's the splendid result created through the common efforts of Chinese people who have come to Taiwan from all parts of the mainland working hand in hand with their compatriots on Taiwan.

I don't know if there is another nation in the world where people from each part of a country have gathered on a single island and created in forty years an economic and a political miracle. The Republic of China on Taiwan is like a family reunion on a national scale, something unprecedented in history. When the mainland is one day recovered, we will each go our separate ways, returning to our original areas of residence or going on to new work posts. So our experience on Taiwan is not only without precedent in the past. It is also unlikely ever to be repeated in the future.

The Republic of China today is different from other multi-ethnic countries in the world. Switzerland, for instance, has a population of French, German, and Italian stock. Each has a different nationality and language. The United States has its own racial problems, most seriously those between blacks and whites, who belong to different races and have different cultures. Different also is Singapore, where Chinese, Malays, and Indians all live together--really several different nationalities. We here, on the other hand, all belong to a single nationality, and we share a common language, a common culture, and a common heritage--the only difference is in dialect and living habits. When viewed from this angle, the problem of provincial origin is no longer a serious one.

If you look at the question with a provincial mind-set, dwelling on how Taiwan fell to the Japanese for fifty years back when the nation was weak, and fixated on unfortunate events like the "February 28th incident," then you may think you want self-determination and independence or even insurrection. But if you look at the question from the standpoint of our nation's whole 5,000-year history and consider how our people have lived together on Taiwan under one roof, so to speak, working and striving optimistically together, then we should feel gratified and grateful as well as determined, perhaps, that we, who have been rather blessed, should look after the one billion compatriots of ours who have not been so lucky. If we can do this, we won't have what is called a regional frame of mind, and our Taiwan complexes will become Chinese complexes. Again, it's a question of viewpoint and sentiment. I just feel that when we put pen to paper, the perspective from which we view things and the feelings we harbor--whether for a region or for the nation as a whole--will determine the depth and the content of what we write.

Nationalism and International Relations

Criticism and castigation of imperialism and praise and promotion of nationalism abound in many works of 20th century Chinese literature, both past and present alike. In describing the lives of workers in an export processing zone today, for example, if you write with anti-imperialist sentiments or from a so-called neo-Marxist perspective, you'll stress how the breakup of farming villages has caused the younger generation to leave the country for the city, and you'll describe the monotonous life of a laborer working six days a week away from home. You may condemn this as the unfortunate result of industrialization and social change, or you may even say it is a tragedy created by capitalist imperialists or multinational conglomeraters.

Of this kind of writing we may perhaps ask a few questions in return. If these workers stayed in the country instead of going to the export processing zones, could they and their families live fuller, more comfortable lives? And in greater depth, if Taiwan didn't take the route of industrialization and modernization, where should it head? Industrialization does indeed bring with it many negative side effects, but these are the unavoidable pangs of a backward country moving toward modernization. Modernization does create many side effects, but is the backward economy of the farming village really all that splendid? If it is, then why does mankind seek modernization? Are you saying that modernization is the result of helplessness and passivity and not an active, rational choice? I wouldn't agree.

In literary works and everyday writing, we often discuss foreigners and foreign affairs. The liquor and tobacco negotiations we held with the U.S. last year, for example, were the subject of much critical public opinion. Many people believed that the U.S. was using liquor and tobacco to carry out a commercial invasion, and some even held that it was a second Opium War. But most of us realize that before the negotiations--perhaps out of a national sense of humor--we named our locally made brand of cigarettes "Long Life," and we didn't think that cigarettes were such a big problem. Now that foreign cigarettes have arrived, however, some people say it's a second Opium War, and some have started a movement to refuse second-hand smoke. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that. I only feel that the viewpoint and the emotions with which we've discussed the matter reflect an overinflated nationalism. I'm not saying that we can't have nationalistic feelings, but I feel sometimes that we use too much emotion and not enough reason--as though the more than US$15 billion a year that we earn in foreign reserves were a God-given right, yet importing US$150 million a year in foreign liquor and cigarettes is unacceptable. If we use this kind of viewpoint to handle our international relations, I'm afraid there'll be problems. We talk these days about economic and political development, and we advocate liberalization, internationalization, and democratization, but have we internationalized, liberalized, and democratized our feelings? A people with confidence in itself won't let its emotions overpower its reason in making choices.

Problems and Criteria of a Society in Transition

If you pick up a newspaper or go to a newsstand and buy a few magazines or novels, you'll find that they contain a great deal of criticism of disorder, pollution, immorality, insufficient democracy, insufficient liberalization, and other problems of a society in transition. Should this criticism exist? Of course it should. Without criticism, without self-examination, how can there be progress? But we also have to look at these problems in a more advanced light. I personally believe that we cannot measure everything in our lives with absolute value concepts and ideals of perfection. The feeling of frustration produced by demanding too much of what we cannot yet accomplish is not a force promoting social progress but a source of turmoil and unrest.

Given the country's present situation and the limits on our ability, the vain pursuit of an ideal perfection is not only mistaken but may at times produce disastrous consequences. During the period from 1945 to 1949, for example, just after the country had experienced eight years of war and destitution, some angry young people chose Marxism, believing it to be a magic panacea, a short cut to Utopia. Today these people, now old men and women, must deeply regret the mistaken choice they made back then, or they may have already paid the price for it with their lives. If they had walked with a steadier pace back then, if they had had clearer heads, if they could have accepted that the progress of a society and the growth of a nation must be built up bit by bit by each member of society and the sweat of their brows, then they wouldn't have fallen for an ideology and a philosophy of revolution, and they wouldn't have mistakenly thought that a Communist revolution could solve all the problems of China.

I think that a person and a nation progress in much the same way. I cannot believe that there will be an absolute change between what I am today and what I will be tomorrow, or that I can become superhuman tomorrow by learning a few tricks today. I just don't believe in that kind of thing. Chinese culture is the collective achievement of countless sages and worthies through the ages. If you take pen to paper to criticize the government or social phenomena in a fit of impetuousness, or if you use a standard that conforms neither with reality nor with historical experience to chastise a society that you yourself have created, then the "feeling of alienation" produced by this kind of writing, I believe, may often have many unintended consequences, some of which the whole society may have to pay for. The difference between a great, mature people and an impetuous, excitable, and irrational one may be just this.

A Few Suggestions

Besides raising the questions about writing and literature which I have discussed above, I would, in closing, like to make three suggestions. First, we shouldn't try to view everything through one or two theories or talk too much theory. Some people like to explain things with the theory of the "Ugly Chinese," as though the nature of the Chinese people itself had some irremediable natural defect, believing that's just the way Chinese people are. I believe that a nation and a people is a very complex composite of historical tradition, cultural background, living reality, and the whole international situation and that the steps it takes in response are extremely complex. Personally I feel that any method that uses only one theory to look at a question is questionable in itself. We must not adhere blindly to one or two theories or render absolute value judgments in analyzing, describing, condemning, or praising an historical experience, a social phenomenon, or a fact of human life. This is extremely important.

Second, I feel that our use of words and of language, like the environment and even politics today, sometimes displays a tendency toward pollution and violence. If a piece of writing has to rely on shocking language to express its thought, isn't that a bit crude and coarse? If you become inured to the use of strong language and violent expressions in writing, you will find some day that you have used up all of those words there are. And if you still can't fully express your feelings of anger, then what will you do? And shouldn't we read a little more history, a little more Chinese and foreign literature, a little more of the social sciences, and come to understand a bit more? If we can firm up our viewpoint and feelings a bit before we take up pen and ink, the things we write will be that much more profound, I believe.

As a final point, I'd like to talk about a rather central problem, which is that of how to define modern culture and literature today. Just what are our viewpoint and feelings? I feel that the literary works of a people must conform to its historical experience. Culture and literature on Taiwan today must be linked to our entire cultural and historical experience over the past 5,000 years as well as to contemporary history. We may stress local culture and regional consciousness if we wish, but we cannot as a result cut ourselves off from the spirit of traditional Chinese culture, nor should we concoct a narrow theory of race or history for an ulterior political purpose. In fact, human nature and life's goals were much the same 5,000 years ago as they will be 5,000 years later. So for a people to have no history and no tradition is a terrible thing. This is what Lien Ya-t'ang meant by saying that to destroy a people you must first destroy their history. Literature on Taiwan today should not only carry on the literary complex of "concern for the times and concern for the nation" which characterized the May Fourth Movement, but it must also transcend the nationalistic, anti-imperialist complex of modern Chinese history, the complex of "resisting external powers and eliminating internal traitors." Also, we must constantly trace back and tap into the spirit of our entire national heritage-- "the exquisite feeling of musing over the past," as we often say. This feeling of reflecting on the past is an inexhaustible source and fountainhead of national culture. Our literature today shouldn't be a servant of politics nor should it reflect only the reality of the day, but it should tap into the enduring feelings of our nation's great history. A literature without history and without tradition cannot, I believe, be a literature that reflects its people, that is vital, or that endures.

Originally Published in United Daily News Supplement (Nov. 29-30, 1987)