Here are some comments on the novels that I read in the last few months of the past year. I also read various short stories and bits of different non-fiction books, but I won't go over those this time.
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was notable for me as the first (and so far only) novel I ever read on a phone (an Android that I’d recently been given as a present). There were a few obvious glitches in the transfer of the book to digital form, mostly words and letters that the software misread, but these were minor. More generally speaking, while I still prefer the real thing, I can’t say that I found reading an e-book to be all that different from a physical book, and I wouldn’t rule out reading more books in that form, though I also intend to give most of what little financial support I can afford to books published in the standard format (this particular e-book came free with the phone, so I didn’t have to buy it).
As for the novel itself, the book was perhaps easier going than I expected, and gave an interesting picture of life among the middle and upper classes in Austen’s time. The love story might seem something of a cliché nowadays, but it was less so in Austen’s time, and the characters were interesting. I can see why comparisons have been made between Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell and Austen’s work, though the former is still different in many ways (not least in telling a completely different kind of story), and also why a history book that I coincidentally was reading from about this time referred readers to this novel as a good second choice after Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones for a view of life in the 18th century (though Pride and Prejudice is technically set at the turn of the 19th century, no doubt the writers of the history book figured that is close enough). I would have to say I personally liked Tom Jones (and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell) somewhat better than Pride and Prejudice, but the latter is certainly worth reading too (now I need to get a hold of a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies…).
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace is one of the most massive and complex novels I’ve read in recent years. One reviewer characterized it as four novels in one, and while four may be a stretch, there are certainly at least three novels contained within its thousand-plus pages. One focuses on life in a top tennis academy attended by many of the country’s top junior tennis players. The protagonist for this part of the narrative, and arguably the novel’s central character is Hal Incandenza, a tennis and academic prodigy. The second, initially unrelated tale is set in a halfway house for recovering drug addicts. The main character in this portion of the novel is the brawny former addict and burglar Don Gately, who next to Hal receives the second most narrative attention. The third novel is a science fiction-tinged thriller revolving around the search for the film Infinite Jest, the last work of Hal’s late father James Incandenza, which is so intensely pleasurable to watch that it is deadly.
It is very difficult to characterize this novel. At first glance, it seems like a modern day version of James Joyce’s Ulysses, with its immensely length, its hundreds of end notes (some of them constituting entire chapters worth of material themselves), its extensive use of difficult vocabulary and local slang, and its rather bizarre opening (which turns out to take place many months after everything else in the novel). But in fact the novel is for the most part quite readable despite its heftiness, though I certainly wouldn’t characterize it as light reading. Overall it is probably less bizarre in its content than, say, Samuel Delany’s Dhalgren. It is still quite bizarre in places, however, and it has a distinct absurdist tone at times. For example, it is set in a near future in which the traditional calendar has been done away with and replaced with what is known as Subsidized Time, where each year is named after a product whose producer has bought the rights to the year (much of the novel takes place in The Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment). The US president is a former crooner with an obsession with cleanliness and hygiene (he is the founder and leader of the Clean Party). Much of New England has been turned into a toxic dump and foisted on Canada, which is part of the US-dominated Organization of North American Nations. And the terrorist group which is seeking the film Infinite Jest to use as a weapon against the US is a Quebecois separatist group known as the Les Assassins des Fauteuils Rollents, or Wheelchair Assassins, as they are all legless and use wheelchairs.
Despite the absurdist elements and some quite funny bits, I wouldn’t characterize the novel as a comedy, as there are far too many dark parts, a few of which can be pretty grim reading (the bits about the effects of severe depression and suicide are made all the more compelling by Wallace’s own fate, though this is only in hindsight – after all, the novel also talks in great depth about drug addictions that Wallace himself never had). But then, as I said before, it is very difficult to characterize this novel in any way, as it is so many things at once. In addition to receiving fulsome critical praise (and a few harsh attacks), it has generated a vast number of thesis papers and derivative works (including a music video for "Calamity Song" by the Decemberists based on a strange, elaborate game played by students at the tennis academy). It should be noted that anybody expecting a conventional ending in which everything is neatly tied up and explained will be sorely disappointed in this book. In fact so much is left unexplained that the novel has prompted extensive discussion and debate among readers about various points (what caused Hal’s breakdown, whether Madame Psychosis is disfigured or not, the content and location of the film, and more). In some ways, my reaction upon finishing it was similar to that when I finished Dhalgren; I asked myself “What the hell happened?” and immediately started flipping back through the book to try to figure out some kind of answer. In the case of Infinite Jest, I was even tempted to join some of the fan debates I mentioned above, as while some of them pointed out things I’d missed or that hadn’t occurred to me, there were points that I thought some of them had missed (though by now my memory is faded somewhat, so if I really wanted to contribute to the various arguments, I’d have to reread much of the book again). So even though I found the sudden ending slightly jarring, I’m by no means sorry I read the novel. It is a weirdly fascinating, virtuosic work that is ultimately entertaining, if not as fatally so as the eponymous film.
I, Claudius by Robert Graves
I, Claudius, written by Robert Graves, is one of the best known historical novels of the 20th century. As the title indicates, it is written in the form of an auto-biography by Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, generally known as Claudius, who was the fourth Roman emperor. The novel covers his life up to his unexpected accession to the position of emperor, as well as a substantial period before his birth that Graves (speaking as Claudius) covers in order to give the reader some background on his family.
From birth or at least a very early age, Claudius suffered from some sort of disability (what exactly it was is still debated) which caused him be physically weak and to stammer, such that when he was young he was thought to be mentally deficient. The rest of his family engaged in sometimes murderous in-fighting, and the fact that Claudius was seen as harmless helped save him from falling victim to jealous relatives. But as portrayed by Graves, Claudius was in fact very intelligent, though socially somewhat inept, and proved to be one of the more sensible and capable members of his family.
Graves seems to have based his novel closely on the works of ancient Roman historians like Suetonius and Tacitus, though he takes a more favorable view of Claudius himself than they apparently did (I have not read their histories myself, though have read some of the works of early Roman historians like Livy, who appears briefly in the novel). Their accounts portray many of the members of the ruling Julio-Claudian family as murderous schemers, and in some cases, particularly that of Claudius’s predecessor Caligula (proper name Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus), as homicidally insane. Livia, the wife of Augustus and grandmother of Claudius, is accused of having had many of her own family murdered for political reasons and is the villain of the first part of the novel, though she is also acknowledged to have been a good administrator and appears much more positively later in the novel, if only in contrast to her son Tiberius (the second emperor) and great-grandson Caligula. However, modern historians regard many of the more lurid assertions made by the ancient historians as dubious or even wholly fictional (for one thing, it is improbably that everyone who was rumored to have been poisoned actually was, and some of the stories about Tiberius and Caligula are certainly exaggerated). Therefore, readers should be wary of accepting Graves’s characterizations of the members of the imperial family, well done though they are, as historically accurate. Despite this, I would certainly recommend the book to those who like historical fiction or indeed those who like good literature, and if I have a chance I will pick up Graves’s sequel, Claudius the God.
The Forever War by Joe Haldeman
Joe Haldeman’s The Forever War, a science fiction novel first published in 1974, was by Haldeman’s own admission inspired by his experiences in the Vietnam War. The protagonist, William Mandella was a physics student drafted along with other highly intelligent, well-educated young people to fight in an interstellar war with a newly discovered alien race. Due to time dilation effects (somewhat exaggerated, as I recall, since the starships would have to spend most of their time traveling at over 95% of light speed for the effect to be as pronounced as it is in the novel), Mandella and his fellow soldiers (the few that survive) return from their first two year tour of duty to an Earth where over two decades have passed and dramatic changes have taken place. It isn’t long before Mandella and his girlfriend (who had served with him) decide they can’t adapt and rejoin the military, originally under the condition they be posted to the Moon but almost immediately ending going back to the frontlines of the war. As more subjective years pass (from Mandella’s point of view), he encounters more senseless death and destruction while centuries go by on Earth, and he eventually learns how pointless the war itself was.
The Forever War widely regarded as the one of the most notable anti-war science fiction novels, and the first prominent one that was an allegory for Vietnam. Many regarded it as a response to the extremely pro-military Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein (which like a number of Heinlein’s novels promotes some rather disturbing ideas), but Haldemann has supposedly downplayed this idea, declaring himself a fan of Heinlein (who was indeed a major figure in early sci-fi, despite the extreme views which he displayed in many later novels). Regardless, the novel certainly takes a bleak look at warfare and soldiering, and coveys Mandella’s alienation from the Earth he is supposedly fighting for quite well.
Some aspects of the novel come across as rather problematic today, however. Most notable is the way sexual orientation is treated (some people might also have issues with the way the military handles sexuality in the first part of the book – I doubt many women would consider such an arrangement ideal, and some men would also have objections – but I’ll have to admit I personally would not have a problem with it). When Mandella returns to Earth after his first tour of duty, overpopulation has become so extreme that the world’s governments promote homosexuality, such that most people are homosexual. Later in the novel, homosexuality has come to predominate such that heterosexuals are considered abnormal (it is even suggested to Mandella that he could be “cured” of his orientation). The problem with this is of course that we now know that sexual orientation is largely inborn, and while under certain circumstances primarily heterosexual people will engage regularly in homosexual activity, either due to lack of members of the opposite sex (prisons, ships at sea) or societal encouragement (ancient Greece), it would not be possible to completely change the primary orientation of the whole population without some type of genetic engineering, and people certainly can’t be “cured” of a sexual orientation (whatever Michele Bachmann may think). But in the 1970s the idea that homosexuality was a choice was more prevalent, and with that in mind it is a little easier to ignore this flaw in what is generally a good book.
The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams
The Dragonbone Chair is the first book in Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, a fantasy trilogy by Tad Williams (actually in paperback there are four books, as the last book was so long it was published in two parts). The world is an invented one, but a number of elements are closely based on real world history, most notably the human ethnic groups and the dominant religion. There are lands and peoples corresponding to the Vikings and the ancient Roman Empire, the religion is closely modeled on Christianity, and there is a figure much like the Pope. In other ways, of course, Osten Ard (as it is called) differs greatly from our world, such as the presence of magic and fantasy races. Though only two of these play major roles in The Dragonbone Chair, others are mentioned and may appear in later books. The most important non-human race is the Sithi, an immortal, pre-human race who most closely resemble fairies or elves (particularly as portrayed in Tolkien). The other race that plays an important role is the trolls (actually just one troll), who are more like gnomes or pixies than the large, dangerous trolls that populate most fantasy works.
The story opens towards the end of the long reign of Prester John (a name that appeared in medieval legends in our world), who first came to power by successfully slaying a dragon whose bones were used for his throne (thus the book’s title). As the king nears death from old age, we learn that his sons have some strong differences of opinion, with the younger son Josua particularly objecting to his elder brother’s reliance on a sinister priest named Pyrates as an adviser. Things basically deteriorate from there, though I won’t go into any details of the plot here. The main protagonist of the novel is a teenaged kitchen scullion named Simon, who was raised as an orphan in the castle. Judging from this book and the one other Tad Williams book I’ve read, The War of the Flowers, he likes using flawed protagonists who are forced to mature by the experiences they go through. Simon initially is almost unbelievably immature and flighty (even granted that he is around 15 years old and many teens are immature and flighty), though he shows improvement by the end of the book.
I obviously can’t pass judgment on this series as a whole yet, but based on the first book, Williams has woven an above average fantasy epic with a gripping plot and an interesting world behind it. The novel is not as distinctive as some others I have read (China Miéville’s novels, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell, Gideon’s Wall, George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire, or even Williams’ own The War of the Flowers), containing as it does a lot of standard fantasy elements, but if the remaining volumes keep up the standards of the first, it is still worth recommending as good fantasy reading.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Taiwan Election 2012
Last Saturday was election day in Taiwan, with elections being held for both president and the Legislative Yuan (as Taiwan's legislature is known). For anyone out there who missed the news, the incumbent President Ma Ying-jeou of the Kuomingtang (Nationalist) party won reelection over his Democratic Progressive Party challenger Tsai Ing-wen. The KMT also held on to its majority in the Legislative Yuan, winning 64 seats out of a total of 113. As anyone who has read my previous posts closely might expect, I consider this a disappointing result. While Ma is not nearly as awful as many other people in the KMT (or some in the DPP, for that matter), and KMT rule today is nothing like as bad as it was in the martial law era, the four years of his administration have not been good ones for the environment, Taiwan's sovereignty, human rights or plain good governance. I am not certain that Tsai would have been a huge improvement, but overall I have a favorable impression of her, and I think she would have done better than Ma (and better than Chen Shuibian, the DPP president who was in office before Ma).
Before the election, most polls showed Tsai and Ma as running virtually neck and neck, and Tsai was actually ahead in some of them. Also it was expected that James Soong of the so-called People First Party would take away a fairly large share of votes from Ma, perhaps enough to swing the election to Tsai. In the end, Ma won by a fairly substantial margin, getting 51.6% of the vote to 45.6% for Tsai. So what happened?
One problem is that many Taiwanese remain inherently conservative, and like voters elsewhere, they have very short memories. A lot of people seem to have completely forgotten the authoritarian rule of the KMT during the marital law era, or even view it positively as a time of growth (which it was, due to Taiwan's economic conditions at the time, not because authoritarian rule was actually conducive to growth) and order (at the expense of freedom of speech and many other liberties, but many chose to forget this). The KMT also prefers that the bad aspects of martial law be forgotten, criticizing any attempt to bring them up as divisive (if instead it faced up to and apologized for its past mistakes, I'd find it a lot easier to trust it now). Many voters now just have the vague feeling that the KMT represents stability, and so they are inclined to play it safe by voting for it (admittedly the DPP didn't help things by ruling erratically during its one period in power, though the KMT-dominated legislature of the time played a role in that as well).
One mistake that many outsiders are likely to make is seeing the Taiwanese election as purely a referendum on China policy. While the perception of the KMT as more pro-China and the DPP as more pro-Taiwan does play a role in many Taiwanese voters minds, and Ma's more China-oriented policy did win him the support of the business community (which is interested chiefly in making money in China, sovereignty and human rights be damned), domestic issues ultimately predominate in most voters' minds. For that matter, as some people have pointed out, the KMT now emphasizes Taiwan in its ads as well, claiming that its policies are the best for Taiwan. It certainly doesn't make a big point of being pro-China when it is addressing Taiwanese voters, claiming instead that it is for peace and stability. This is enough to convince many voters in the middle that the KMT is the safe choice.
The timing of the election (coincidentally?) favored the KMT somewhat. Taiwan does not have early voting or absentee voting, even within the country (though it should), so people have to vote wherever their household registration is. Many people from the south (which is strongly pro-DPP) work in the Taipei area. The election was held only a week before the Chinese New Year holiday, and many people didn't want to make a separate trip just to vote when they would be traveling to be with their families only a week later. Also, many university students had tests right up through Friday night, meaning they would have to rush back to their hometowns right after finishing their tests to vote on Saturday. How much difference this made is hard to tell. Probably not enough to change the overall results, but perhaps it could have affected particularly close races.
The KMT also had the advantages of large financial resources (even after divesting itself of some of its ill-gotten assets, it still owns a lot of businesses in Taiwan) and incumbency. Vote buying almost certainly went on in some areas, and with more money the KMT can easily buy more votes than any of its opponents. One constituency where vote buying has particularly been a problem in the past is the seats reserved for Taiwan's aboriginal population (six total, split into three for "Plains Aborigines" and three for "Mountain Aborigines). The aboriginal population is poorer and less well-educated, and there are far fewer of them (a total of only 215,000 votes elected the six legislators, with the third place candidate in the "Plains Aborigines" constituency getting elected with only 14,000 votes), which means anyone buying votes doesn't need to buy nearly as many. As a result, the KMT won four of the seats (with some pretty awful candidates), with the PFP candidate and an independent (a part-aborigine former pop singer who is disgustingly pro-China, even though Taiwanese aborigines have nothing to do with China historically) getting the other two. Our friend Mayaw Biho, on the other hand, despite having people like Ara Kimbo (胡德夫 Hu Defu), Panai Kisui (巴奈‧庫穗), Zhang Zhengyue (張震嶽), and Ilid Kaolo (以莉˙高露[小美]) campaign for him, only won 4,500 votes. Obviously the situation with aboriginal voters is particularly grim.
James Soong proved to be what I had already thought of him as, a washed-up has-been with little support, as he got less than 3% of the vote. Of course many of the people who supported him in the past tended to be even more conservative than a lot of KMT voters, and even less eager to see a DPP president. As a result, many of them probably chose to vote for Ma out of fear that Tsai would win if they didn't. But the PFP's performance in the legislative election was also weak, as it only got a little over 5% of the party vote, despite bold predictions that it would get as much as 10%. So the PFP, which is basically the James Soong party, only ended up with three seats in the legislature (parties have to get a minimum of 5% for two at-large seats, and the PFP also got one aboriginal seat).
It must also be said that this election was at least a vast improvement over the last one. Four years ago, the legislative elections and the presidential election were held separately, with the former being the first following reforms that cut the legislature in half and introduced the party vote. Some have argued that this new system favored the KMT, as several of the smallest constituencies, given a relatively greater weight in the smaller legislature, have traditionally favored the KMT, the more overwhelming support the DPP generally receives in the south did not translate into as many seats as the marginal lead the KMT has in the north, and also because the KMT could concentrate its much greater resources on fewer seats. Due to these factors and discontent with the outgoing Chen administration, the KMT won overwhelmingly, getting 87 seats to only 27 for the DPP. Since now the KMT will have 64 to 40 for the DPP, the former's majority has been reduced considerably. Likewise, in the 2008 presidential election, Ma won an landslide victory over the DPP's Frank Hsieh (admittedly a weaker candidate, in my opinion at least, than Tsai), getting 58.5% of the vote to 41.5% for Hsieh. So the DPP did far better this time (of course as 2008 was an unmitigated disaster, some improvement was to be expected).
This election was an improvement over 2012 in other ways. The Taiwan Solidarity Union, a pro-independence party inspired by former president Lee Teng-hui, only got 3.5% of the party vote in 2008 and thus failed to win any seats at all. This time it won just under 9% (compared to 44.5% for the KMT and 34.6% for the DPP) and got three seats. Some of this gain came at the expense of the DPP, which despite its poor showing overall got 36.9% of the party vote in 2008, but not all of it (the KMT's share of the party vote dropped a lot more than the DPP's, as it won 51.2% in 2008). While I have many reservations about both the TSU and the DPP and many politicians in both parties, it's good to see them do better, if only to counterbalance the overly (and, in the opinion of many, dangerously) pro-China policies of the KMT. Even better in my view was the improved showing of the Green Party. It got far less support than it should have, a mere 1.7% of the party vote, but this was a huge improvement on the 0.6% it got in 2008, and really not bad for a party whose campaigning was extremely limited in scope (for one thing, they refused to litter the streets with the flags favored by almost every other candidate and party). Other than the four parties which passed the 5% threshold for at-large seats (the KMT, DPP, TSU, and PFP), the Green Party actually did the best, outdoing the New Party, an extreme pro-China KMT splinter party that once was a real force in Taiwan politics but which only won 1.5% of the party vote (though admittedly the wacky "Free National Health Insurance Alliance" also won 1.2% of the party vote). If the Green Party can continue to increase its share of the vote, maybe in a few more elections it will be able to win seats.
Despite these bits of silver lining, overall the election results are still pretty depressing. They make me feel rather the way I feel when I see Americans elect extremist Republicans (which is most of them nowadays), Japanese vote for the LDP, Israelis vote for Likud or the religious parties, Egyptians vote for Salafists, or Europeans vote for any of the far-right parties. It certainly doesn't do much for my already shaky faith in the intelligence (or the open-mindedness) of the human race. But all we can do is keep up the struggle and hope things turn out better next time.
Before the election, most polls showed Tsai and Ma as running virtually neck and neck, and Tsai was actually ahead in some of them. Also it was expected that James Soong of the so-called People First Party would take away a fairly large share of votes from Ma, perhaps enough to swing the election to Tsai. In the end, Ma won by a fairly substantial margin, getting 51.6% of the vote to 45.6% for Tsai. So what happened?
One problem is that many Taiwanese remain inherently conservative, and like voters elsewhere, they have very short memories. A lot of people seem to have completely forgotten the authoritarian rule of the KMT during the marital law era, or even view it positively as a time of growth (which it was, due to Taiwan's economic conditions at the time, not because authoritarian rule was actually conducive to growth) and order (at the expense of freedom of speech and many other liberties, but many chose to forget this). The KMT also prefers that the bad aspects of martial law be forgotten, criticizing any attempt to bring them up as divisive (if instead it faced up to and apologized for its past mistakes, I'd find it a lot easier to trust it now). Many voters now just have the vague feeling that the KMT represents stability, and so they are inclined to play it safe by voting for it (admittedly the DPP didn't help things by ruling erratically during its one period in power, though the KMT-dominated legislature of the time played a role in that as well).
One mistake that many outsiders are likely to make is seeing the Taiwanese election as purely a referendum on China policy. While the perception of the KMT as more pro-China and the DPP as more pro-Taiwan does play a role in many Taiwanese voters minds, and Ma's more China-oriented policy did win him the support of the business community (which is interested chiefly in making money in China, sovereignty and human rights be damned), domestic issues ultimately predominate in most voters' minds. For that matter, as some people have pointed out, the KMT now emphasizes Taiwan in its ads as well, claiming that its policies are the best for Taiwan. It certainly doesn't make a big point of being pro-China when it is addressing Taiwanese voters, claiming instead that it is for peace and stability. This is enough to convince many voters in the middle that the KMT is the safe choice.
The timing of the election (coincidentally?) favored the KMT somewhat. Taiwan does not have early voting or absentee voting, even within the country (though it should), so people have to vote wherever their household registration is. Many people from the south (which is strongly pro-DPP) work in the Taipei area. The election was held only a week before the Chinese New Year holiday, and many people didn't want to make a separate trip just to vote when they would be traveling to be with their families only a week later. Also, many university students had tests right up through Friday night, meaning they would have to rush back to their hometowns right after finishing their tests to vote on Saturday. How much difference this made is hard to tell. Probably not enough to change the overall results, but perhaps it could have affected particularly close races.
The KMT also had the advantages of large financial resources (even after divesting itself of some of its ill-gotten assets, it still owns a lot of businesses in Taiwan) and incumbency. Vote buying almost certainly went on in some areas, and with more money the KMT can easily buy more votes than any of its opponents. One constituency where vote buying has particularly been a problem in the past is the seats reserved for Taiwan's aboriginal population (six total, split into three for "Plains Aborigines" and three for "Mountain Aborigines). The aboriginal population is poorer and less well-educated, and there are far fewer of them (a total of only 215,000 votes elected the six legislators, with the third place candidate in the "Plains Aborigines" constituency getting elected with only 14,000 votes), which means anyone buying votes doesn't need to buy nearly as many. As a result, the KMT won four of the seats (with some pretty awful candidates), with the PFP candidate and an independent (a part-aborigine former pop singer who is disgustingly pro-China, even though Taiwanese aborigines have nothing to do with China historically) getting the other two. Our friend Mayaw Biho, on the other hand, despite having people like Ara Kimbo (胡德夫 Hu Defu), Panai Kisui (巴奈‧庫穗), Zhang Zhengyue (張震嶽), and Ilid Kaolo (以莉˙高露[小美]) campaign for him, only won 4,500 votes. Obviously the situation with aboriginal voters is particularly grim.
James Soong proved to be what I had already thought of him as, a washed-up has-been with little support, as he got less than 3% of the vote. Of course many of the people who supported him in the past tended to be even more conservative than a lot of KMT voters, and even less eager to see a DPP president. As a result, many of them probably chose to vote for Ma out of fear that Tsai would win if they didn't. But the PFP's performance in the legislative election was also weak, as it only got a little over 5% of the party vote, despite bold predictions that it would get as much as 10%. So the PFP, which is basically the James Soong party, only ended up with three seats in the legislature (parties have to get a minimum of 5% for two at-large seats, and the PFP also got one aboriginal seat).
It must also be said that this election was at least a vast improvement over the last one. Four years ago, the legislative elections and the presidential election were held separately, with the former being the first following reforms that cut the legislature in half and introduced the party vote. Some have argued that this new system favored the KMT, as several of the smallest constituencies, given a relatively greater weight in the smaller legislature, have traditionally favored the KMT, the more overwhelming support the DPP generally receives in the south did not translate into as many seats as the marginal lead the KMT has in the north, and also because the KMT could concentrate its much greater resources on fewer seats. Due to these factors and discontent with the outgoing Chen administration, the KMT won overwhelmingly, getting 87 seats to only 27 for the DPP. Since now the KMT will have 64 to 40 for the DPP, the former's majority has been reduced considerably. Likewise, in the 2008 presidential election, Ma won an landslide victory over the DPP's Frank Hsieh (admittedly a weaker candidate, in my opinion at least, than Tsai), getting 58.5% of the vote to 41.5% for Hsieh. So the DPP did far better this time (of course as 2008 was an unmitigated disaster, some improvement was to be expected).
This election was an improvement over 2012 in other ways. The Taiwan Solidarity Union, a pro-independence party inspired by former president Lee Teng-hui, only got 3.5% of the party vote in 2008 and thus failed to win any seats at all. This time it won just under 9% (compared to 44.5% for the KMT and 34.6% for the DPP) and got three seats. Some of this gain came at the expense of the DPP, which despite its poor showing overall got 36.9% of the party vote in 2008, but not all of it (the KMT's share of the party vote dropped a lot more than the DPP's, as it won 51.2% in 2008). While I have many reservations about both the TSU and the DPP and many politicians in both parties, it's good to see them do better, if only to counterbalance the overly (and, in the opinion of many, dangerously) pro-China policies of the KMT. Even better in my view was the improved showing of the Green Party. It got far less support than it should have, a mere 1.7% of the party vote, but this was a huge improvement on the 0.6% it got in 2008, and really not bad for a party whose campaigning was extremely limited in scope (for one thing, they refused to litter the streets with the flags favored by almost every other candidate and party). Other than the four parties which passed the 5% threshold for at-large seats (the KMT, DPP, TSU, and PFP), the Green Party actually did the best, outdoing the New Party, an extreme pro-China KMT splinter party that once was a real force in Taiwan politics but which only won 1.5% of the party vote (though admittedly the wacky "Free National Health Insurance Alliance" also won 1.2% of the party vote). If the Green Party can continue to increase its share of the vote, maybe in a few more elections it will be able to win seats.
Despite these bits of silver lining, overall the election results are still pretty depressing. They make me feel rather the way I feel when I see Americans elect extremist Republicans (which is most of them nowadays), Japanese vote for the LDP, Israelis vote for Likud or the religious parties, Egyptians vote for Salafists, or Europeans vote for any of the far-right parties. It certainly doesn't do much for my already shaky faith in the intelligence (or the open-mindedness) of the human race. But all we can do is keep up the struggle and hope things turn out better next time.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
What's in a Name?
Back in 2010, I was living in a place called Taipei County. Now I am living in what is in English officially called New Taipei City. Did I move? No, it's just that a week before the end of 2010, what was once known as Taipei County (台北縣, a distinct entity from the city of Taipei, which in Chinese is known as 台北市 or Taipei City) was re-designated 新北市, which in Hanyu romanization is written as Xinbei Shi and literally translates as New North City (the old "north city" being Taipei, the name of which means "Taiwan North"). All of the smaller cities within Taipei County (essentially the suburbs of Taipei), became districts of this new city. Originally the new city was to be known in English as Xinbei City, based on the romanization of the Chinese, but the mayor insisted on "New Taipei City".
So what useful purpose did this change of names serve? None, really, except for political -- as a "special municipality" the so-called New Taipei City is equal in political status to the "special municipalities" of Taipei and Kaohsiung, as well as Taichung and Tainan, existing cities which were also given "special municipality" at the same time New Taipei City was created. In reality, New Taipei City is the same place it was as Taipei County, basically an urban extension of Taipei. As far as I am concerned, the renaming was basically pointless, and just means that I had to get used to writing my address differently.
This does not mean, however, that I think names don't matter. In many situations, they matter a great deal, and Taiwan is home to many examples of significant naming issues. In fact the nation itself is a good example. Officially, it is still known as "the Republic of China" after the Kuomintang (Nationalist) regime which ruled China until its defeat at the hands of the Communists over 60 years ago. Even though the actual territory ruled by "the Republic of China" since then has consisted of Taiwan and a few small outlying islands, both Communist-ruled China and a small but vocal pro-China minority in Taiwan strongly oppose any efforts to rename the country to something more logical like "the Republic of Taiwan", because they seemingly imagine that having "China" in the country's official name somehow keeps it more closely tied to China itself (of course the Chinese government does not officially recognize the name "the Republic of China" either, calling Taiwan "Taiwan, Province of China" in order to maintain the fiction that they rule Taiwan, but they still oppose in change in the name they don't recognize). A good analogy would be if Hawaii became split off from the continental United States but still insisted on calling itself "the United States of America", or if Sicily split from Italy but still called itself "the Republic of Italy".
This sort of political use of names has a long history in Taiwan (as it does elsewhere, but for today I will focus on Taiwan only). As far back as the Qing dynasty, the first China-based regime to rule parts of Taiwan, several Taiwanese cities had their names changed because the Qing government felt the new names would somehow encourage obedience on the part of Taiwan's restive population. For instance, Zhuluo (named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Jiayi (good and proper), and Banhsian ("half-line", also named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Zhanghua (translated by one scholar as "manifest the influence of the empire").
When the Kuomintang (KMT) came to Taiwan, they changed names throughout Taiwan to fit their ideology and political purposes. Practically every town and city in Taiwan has streets named Minsheng, Minquan, and Minzu (after Sun Yat-sen's Three Principles of the People) as well as Zhongshan (after Sun Yat-sen himself) and Zhongzheng (after Chiang Kai-shek, the self-declared successor of Sun). There are even many streets called Jieshou, which means "long life to Chiang Kai-shek" (or Jiang Jieshi as he is called in Mandarin). A large number of street names in Taipei were renamed for cities and provinces in China, and many of the districts of the city were also renamed for political purposes. Thus there are Zhongshan and Zhongzheng districts, as well as districts with names corresponding to various concepts in KMT political ideology, like Datong. Even Taipei's most prominent mountain, Cao (Grass) Mountain was renamed by Chiang Kai-shek to commemorate Neo-Confucian scholar Wang Yangming. All of this renaming was done in an effort to promote the idea that Taiwan was closely tied to China.
In a very few cases, some streets and places have been renamed by governments headed by the more Taiwan-oriented DPP, but most of these rather absurdly ideological names remain in place, and efforts to change them often meet strong resistance from the KMT and its supporters. One reason they commonly bring up is that it costs a lot to change all of the street signs and addresses to conform to the new name. But if this is a valid reason for opposing any changes, then the same argument should apply to the recent renaming of Taipei County and other places. For my part, while I realize that it would be difficult to make wholesale changes in a short period of time, I would like to see all place names and street names in Taiwan depoliticized gradually, preferably by restoring the original names. While we shouldn't exaggerate the importance of names, they should as much as possible reflect reality, and they shouldn't be used as propaganda for outdated political ideologies. So while I'm willing to live with "New Taipei City", I'd like to get rid of all the "Zhongzheng" roads and such as soon as practicable.
So what useful purpose did this change of names serve? None, really, except for political -- as a "special municipality" the so-called New Taipei City is equal in political status to the "special municipalities" of Taipei and Kaohsiung, as well as Taichung and Tainan, existing cities which were also given "special municipality" at the same time New Taipei City was created. In reality, New Taipei City is the same place it was as Taipei County, basically an urban extension of Taipei. As far as I am concerned, the renaming was basically pointless, and just means that I had to get used to writing my address differently.
This does not mean, however, that I think names don't matter. In many situations, they matter a great deal, and Taiwan is home to many examples of significant naming issues. In fact the nation itself is a good example. Officially, it is still known as "the Republic of China" after the Kuomintang (Nationalist) regime which ruled China until its defeat at the hands of the Communists over 60 years ago. Even though the actual territory ruled by "the Republic of China" since then has consisted of Taiwan and a few small outlying islands, both Communist-ruled China and a small but vocal pro-China minority in Taiwan strongly oppose any efforts to rename the country to something more logical like "the Republic of Taiwan", because they seemingly imagine that having "China" in the country's official name somehow keeps it more closely tied to China itself (of course the Chinese government does not officially recognize the name "the Republic of China" either, calling Taiwan "Taiwan, Province of China" in order to maintain the fiction that they rule Taiwan, but they still oppose in change in the name they don't recognize). A good analogy would be if Hawaii became split off from the continental United States but still insisted on calling itself "the United States of America", or if Sicily split from Italy but still called itself "the Republic of Italy".
This sort of political use of names has a long history in Taiwan (as it does elsewhere, but for today I will focus on Taiwan only). As far back as the Qing dynasty, the first China-based regime to rule parts of Taiwan, several Taiwanese cities had their names changed because the Qing government felt the new names would somehow encourage obedience on the part of Taiwan's restive population. For instance, Zhuluo (named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Jiayi (good and proper), and Banhsian ("half-line", also named for an aboriginal village) was changed to Zhanghua (translated by one scholar as "manifest the influence of the empire").
When the Kuomintang (KMT) came to Taiwan, they changed names throughout Taiwan to fit their ideology and political purposes. Practically every town and city in Taiwan has streets named Minsheng, Minquan, and Minzu (after Sun Yat-sen's Three Principles of the People) as well as Zhongshan (after Sun Yat-sen himself) and Zhongzheng (after Chiang Kai-shek, the self-declared successor of Sun). There are even many streets called Jieshou, which means "long life to Chiang Kai-shek" (or Jiang Jieshi as he is called in Mandarin). A large number of street names in Taipei were renamed for cities and provinces in China, and many of the districts of the city were also renamed for political purposes. Thus there are Zhongshan and Zhongzheng districts, as well as districts with names corresponding to various concepts in KMT political ideology, like Datong. Even Taipei's most prominent mountain, Cao (Grass) Mountain was renamed by Chiang Kai-shek to commemorate Neo-Confucian scholar Wang Yangming. All of this renaming was done in an effort to promote the idea that Taiwan was closely tied to China.
In a very few cases, some streets and places have been renamed by governments headed by the more Taiwan-oriented DPP, but most of these rather absurdly ideological names remain in place, and efforts to change them often meet strong resistance from the KMT and its supporters. One reason they commonly bring up is that it costs a lot to change all of the street signs and addresses to conform to the new name. But if this is a valid reason for opposing any changes, then the same argument should apply to the recent renaming of Taipei County and other places. For my part, while I realize that it would be difficult to make wholesale changes in a short period of time, I would like to see all place names and street names in Taiwan depoliticized gradually, preferably by restoring the original names. While we shouldn't exaggerate the importance of names, they should as much as possible reflect reality, and they shouldn't be used as propaganda for outdated political ideologies. So while I'm willing to live with "New Taipei City", I'd like to get rid of all the "Zhongzheng" roads and such as soon as practicable.
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