[Review]: Taiwan Travelog by Yang Shuang-zi; translated from Mandarin by Lin King

 

"There is nothing in the world more difficult to refuse than self-righteous goodwill"

This novel was a completely unexpected discovery. After the disappointment felt with "We are Green and Trembling", I was not inclined to trust my own judgment in matters of blurbs! So I randomized the list, and the choice fell on this unknown title.

The novel intrigued me from the first lines: we are immediately introduced to a fake translator's note, informing us of the background of the memoir we are about to read. In a simple, perhaps banal, however ingenious move, Yang Shuang-zi is immediately able to define the main themes of the novel:

• Japanese colonialism in the 1930s, and in general paternalism in view of colonized people,
• love, in all its complex and often unrealized forms,
• and, naturally, language.

Aoyama Chizuko is an impressively young and successful novelist, who has been offered a traveling experience in Taiwan as part of some Islanders' requests to have her hold lectures about her work. Aoyama is undoubtedly naive, stubborn, and often anachronistic in her continuous search for real experiences and freedom. But most importantly, just like in any good Japanese novel, Aoyama is hungry.

Hungry for love, affection, being seen and felt from her peers, and of course for traditional Taiwanese food!

However, her first interactions with the local guides do not seem to be really successful: the man is polite, yet cold. He reserves for her requests of experiencing "real Taiwan" nothing more than a detached smile. After her loud complaints to one of the women in charge of the cultural organization she is touring with, she has the chance to be reassigned to 18-year-old Ō Chizuru, a school teacher and local interpreter fluent in Japanese.

Chi-chan, as Aoyama prefers to call her, is a mystery, well hidden behind poise and brilliant manners: she is highly educated, fluent in multiple foreign languages, while also being proficient at serving, cooking, and most historical traditions of Taiwan. As they tour the entire island together, and Aoyama gets more in contact with the delicious food that Taiwan has to offer, the two young girls grow closer, but an untouchable wall has been clearly set by Chi-chan from the beginning. At every step forward from Aoyama, she takes two far and wide steps back, ensuring their tango maintains its rhythm.

Besides, Chi-chan is destined to be married off soon to a rich man in the mainland. 

It is not a time to dream about leading forever this free and careless life with Aoyama. She has a duty to fulfill to both her family and herself.

But one dish after the one, one warm day leading to the next, not even the calm and collected Chi-chan can deny it no longer: they have grown stronger than friends usually are, with a deeper bond than most could ever boast to share with a lifelong partner.

However, reality in the Empire is not kind to these two girls: Aoyama stays a conqueror, a person in a position of both power and privilege compared to the native Chi-chan. The Japanese author is often inconsiderate, boorish, and even insulting to her culture. And what love can be born under such conditions?

Although the story itself starts quite slowly, the writing style kept me engaged enough that I eventually found myself fully captivated by Taiwan, and by the young women in this book. I longed to get a close understanding of Ō Chizuru, while I squirmed and blushed with Aoyama at any sign of Chi-chan's affection.

It is a heartwarming, delicate story of friendship, love, and most importantly, privilege. Truly a sweet treat for those times where the world takes a grim turn, I truly enjoyed this author.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ Stars from me!