Taiwan Travelogue: A Bittersweet Account of Friendship Under Imperialism
Taiwan Travelogue is a bright novel touching on various aspects of the development of a culture, with a flawed exploration of power imbalances in friendships.
This is not a review. See why.
Context
Aoyama, the narrator of Taiwan Travelogue, is a young Japanese novelist in the 1930s. At that time, Japan had occupied Taiwan, but the island retained a nominal local government. That government and a ladies’ club sponsor her to travel there for a year and write a series of travel articles about what she sees and experiences, as well as giving lectures on her book. She accepts and looks forward to exploring the nature and culture of a new place. Once in Taiwan, she is assigned a native translator whom she nicknames Chi-Chan. This translator goes above and beyond to make sure Aoyama experiences everything she wants to experience, especially the local food and drink. Aoyama develops a deep fondness for Chi-Chan and desperately wants to be friends with her, even offering to financially support her as she pursues her career goals, but Chi-Chan resists. The resulting tension gradually builds, particularly in the second half of the novel, until Aoyama finally realizes the cause of Chi-Chan’s hesitation.
Key Ideas (Overall evaluation: mixed ideas well-executed)
To truly get to know a culture, one must learn all aspects of its food
Those who appear to benefit from colonialism tend to see its consequences from a limited perspective
Equality of power is a prerequisite for friendship
To truly get to know a culture, one must learn all aspects of its food
A remarkable amount of the novel is taken up by descriptions of food and the preparation of food, to the extent that at times it felt like reading a sentimental food blog. But there are two purposes to this unusual amount of detail. First, it’s an aspect of Aoyama’s characterization—not only is she a “foodie,” she is a devourer of life, someone with a bottomless appetite for joy and novelty. Her desire for food is a representation and embodiment of her desire to connect with others and to appreciate the great variety in the world. Second, the detailed discussions of food form part of the book’s broader exploration of what it takes to get to know a place and its culture, which is Aoyama’s purpose in coming to Taiwan. As we see through the various meals, beverages, and snacks, there is great variation in how people cook and eat. Food is influenced in myriad ways by geography, technology, wealth, religious beliefs, social stigmas, politics, and more. Aoyama often discovers this by investigating, for example, two dishes that are similar except that one uses a cheaper meat than another or is served in a different way.
Though food is perhaps the most universal yet infinitely variable aspect of a culture, it is not the only one that varies according to some or all of these factors. Such elements as transport, clothing, dialect, personal grooming, and music all vary to lesser or greater extents throughout a culture, and getting to know only one part of any one of them would leave one with a partial view of that culture. No society, after all, is totally homogenous; instead, like a soup, it contains many different elements that affect each other while nevertheless retaining some of their own characteristics. However, choosing to focus largely on one aspect (though others, such as transport and clothing, are briefly mentioned in the novel) is a legitimate choice that enables the novelist to explore that element in depth without denying or ignoring the the many other varied elements.
Those who appear to benefit from colonialism tend to see its consequences from a limited perspective
The political context of this novel’s historical setting is pertinent to the ideas it conveys. In 1895, Japan annexed Taiwan during a period of voracious imperialism and imposed certain cultural practices on the island nation. Aoyama is Japanese, which automatically grants her a certain status in Taiwan. Though she disapproves of her country’s imperialism, refusing to directly sanction it in conversation or in writing, she nevertheless believes some of its consequences to be positive, such as improved infrastructure and the blending of cultures to create innovative foods. The novel hints at but never actually states the core of the problem with imperialism: Imperialist states, to varying extents, rob people of choice through the use of force. Violating rights (which can only happen through the initiation of force) always has consequences. It may seem on the surface, for example, that building new infrastructure, such as railway lines, is obviously a good thing, and in many cases it is, but one must not drop the context of where, how, and why they are built. If people do not want a railway, but the government builds one anyway, then whatever its potential practical benefits it must do so using appropriated funds and resources—that is, forcing people to pay for it (and potentially taking land from its owners for construction).
Aoyama does not see this at first. She comments that “the Empire’s harsh methods are hateful indeed, but now I can’t help but admit that the Government [of Japan] has made the raw jade that is [Taiwan] shine with the gleam of a jewel” (242). Eventually, a city hall employee opens her eyes to how prejudiced her view of Taiwan had been, stating,
Your unwillingness to accommodate the Southern Expansion Policy makes clear your disapprobation of the Empire. And yet, when it comes to your likes and dislikes, your position changes—you sometimes even praise the Empire’s policies. Whether you choose to criticize or support these policies has little to do with whether the Empire has caused harm or done good—it has more to do with your personal preferences. (244)
Though her enjoyment of new tourist sites and fusion food is natural, she has dropped the context of what created these things, making her disapproval of Japanese imperialism and of the unearned status it grants her flimsy and inconsistent. Well-meaning citizens of a conquering nation will not always be as blind to the far-reaching negative effects of their government’s aggression as Aoyama initially is, but some certainly are, and this is plausibly rendered in this novel.
** Significant spoiler below **
Equality of power is a prerequisite for friendship
Aoyama finds Chi-Chan’s generous and industrious nature incredibly charming and sincerely admires the younger woman’s knowledge and linguistic ability. She wants to get to know Chi-Chan and does her best to do so without being overbearing or nosy. She does at times become pushy, however, on the matter of their friendship. She says that they act as friends and therefore should embrace the term and be more open with one another. She does not understand until the very end why Chi-Chan is resistant to this friendship: the power imbalance between them. This imbalance is multifaceted, but depends especially on their respective nationalities, Aoyama’s relative wealth, and their employer/employee relationship. It is true that Aoyama not only has more influence generally (some of which is earned through her work but much of which is due to the collectivist nature of their society) but also that she can directly and negatively affect Chi-Chan’s life by firing her. Chi-Chan’s livelihood and professional reputation to some extent depend on her, for if Aoyama fired her, she would have a harder time finding a new job in her chosen field.
For these reasons, Chi-Chan believes they can never truly be friends. Whether this is true or not, of course, depends on the nature of friendship. Friendship is a connection based on time spent together, mutual desire of each other’s well-being, and shared values. The quality of that time, the depth of that desire, and the nature of those values will determine the extent of the friendship. A friendship based on watching sports or playing videogames, lacking serious discussions or mutual help, is casual; a friendship in which you both share your dreams and disappointments, grounded in mutual respect and assistance and broadly similar attitudes to life is profound and beautiful. Yet both kinds, and everything in between, are real and legitimate forms of friendship. We can accept the idea that the power imbalance between them may hinder Chi-Chan from being fully open with Aoyama. But if Aoyama fully respected Chi-Chan’s agency (doing otherwise would hinder her well-being), then there is no reason that the two couldn’t be genuine friends, even if the power imbalance means the difference in outlooks on life sets them slightly apart. Unfortunately, neither sees it this way in the end.
The Vibe
Much of the narration is colored by Aoyama’s enthusiasm for food and for life more broadly. She comes across as almost childlike at times in her immense appetite for, and simple joy in tasting, a wide variety of dishes, not to mention the petulance with which she requests them. Chi-Chan patiently bears with both, but as the novel is from Aoyama’s perspective, we are not privy to Chi-Chan’s thoughts. The tone does become more serious and even tender at times, particularly when it deals with their friendship.
Conclusion
Taiwan Travelogue is a bright novel touching on various aspects of the development of a culture. Its portrayal of the effect of power imbalances on friendships may be flawed, but it is nevertheless an enjoyable read, particularly for those who enjoy the process of learning about other cultures—and who have a high tolerance for lengthy descriptions of food!
I think I'll buy and read this one. A used copy of course. :)