Taiwan Travelogue

Taiwan Travelogue presents itself as a rediscovered Japanese novel by a fictional author named Aoyama Chizuko, translated into Mandarin Chinese by the novel's central figure, Wáng Chiēn-hò. In reality, Yáng Shuāng-zǐ is the sole author of the entire work, including the novel, its introduction, afterwords, and translator's notes, all forming a multilayered metafictional structure. A 2020 note reveals this design, but the narrative reads as a genuine historical artifact passed through many hands over decades.

An introduction by Hiyoshi Sagako, a wansheng (a Japanese person born in colonial Taiwan), provides context. Aoyama Chizuko, a celebrated Japanese novelist born in 1913, traveled to Taiwan in 1938 at the invitation of the Japanese Government-General for a lecture tour. Though the trip served propagandist purposes, the novel abandons nationalist agenda and centers on the relationship between Aoyama and her Taiwanese interpreter, Wáng Chiēn-hò, known in Japanese as Ō Chizuru. Hiyoshi urges readers to remain aware of the power imbalance between colonizer and colonized.

The main narrative unfolds in Aoyama's first-person voice across twelve chapters, each named for a Taiwanese dish. In May 1938, Aoyama arrives in Taichū (present-day Táichūng) after refusing to write propaganda supporting Japan's Southern Expansion Policy. She is hosted by Madame Takada, a representative of the Nisshinkai women's organization, and assigned a young bureaucrat named Mishima as her guide. Aoyama is captivated by the Island's markets and foods, but Mishima arranges only Japanese-style meals.

Madame Takada arranges a Taiwanese interpreter: Ō Chizuru, a former Japanese-language teacher preparing for an arranged marriage. Aoyama recognizes Chizuru as the young woman who helped her at a fruit stand on her first day, teaching her to crack roasted seeds called kue-tsí. Their names share the same kanji characters, which Aoyama calls fated. She privately nicknames Chizuru "Chi-chan."

Chi-chan proves far more than an interpreter. Intellectually formidable, she quotes ancient Chinese philosophers and explains Taiwan's ethnic complexity, including Hoklo, Hakka, and diverse indigenous peoples. Madame Takada provides Aoyama a cottage by the Yana River, and Chi-chan equips it with clothing, maps, and restaurant lists. She introduces Aoyama to authentic Taiwanese food, from silver needle vermicelli in pork bone broth to braised minced pork over rice.

Their bond deepens through travel, but colonial tensions surface repeatedly. At a girls' high school, a staff member orders Chi-chan to clean Aoyama's shoes. Aoyama intervenes, but Chi-chan remains impassive, wearing what Aoyama calls a "Noh mask," an inscrutable expression concealing her true feelings. When Aoyama asks why Chi-chan refuses to share a table, Chi-chan answers: As an Islander subordinate to a Mainlander, she will not dine as an inferior.

Aoyama insists on being called "Aoyama-san" rather than the formal "sensei," and they share their first meal: bitter jute soup, a dish so linked to poverty that relatives mocked Chi-chan for growing up on it. Chi-chan reveals she is the daughter of a wealthy patriarch's concubine. Her mother was a gē-tòa (an entertainer similar to a geisha), and children of concubines are treated as inferior; Chi-chan was raised among her mother's impoverished relatives. She also reveals her ambition to become a professional translator of novels.

Aoyama confides that a childhood experience of severe deprivation created an obsessive relationship with food, a "monster" in her stomach driven by deep emotional need. Chi-chan is the only person who takes this hunger seriously.

As months pass, they travel to Kagi, Takao, and Tainan. In Tainan, a hotel receptionist calls Chi-chan lí-ya, a derogatory slur for Islanders, and refuses them entry. At a girls' school dormitory, they investigate a mystery involving Ōzawa Reiko, a Mainlander student, and Tân Tshiok-bi, an Islander nicknamed "Sparrow." Chi-chan deduces that the slur has been reversed between the two girls into an endearment, and that Sparrow's resistance to Ōzawa's protection is a protest: Ōzawa never asked whether Sparrow wanted to be shielded.

This insight foreshadows the central conflict. Aoyama has a kimono made for Chi-chan as protection against those who judge Islanders by their clothing. Chi-chan accepts but withdraws emotionally. At a hot springs hotel, Chi-chan tells Aoyama she has a "blind spot" she cannot see and proposes they revert to a strictly professional relationship.

On New Year's Eve, for the only time, Aoyama wins their recurring dice game, and Chi-chan spends the night at the cottage. In January, Chi-chan takes Aoyama to meet Master A-Phûn, a legendary chef who refuses to cook for Japanese people, and wins a dice game to secure the promise of a banquet. Soon after, Aoyama offers to support Chi-chan's translation career on the Japanese Mainland. Chi-chan threatens to resign and walks away.

Mishima replaces Chi-chan as interpreter. Chi-chan returns only to fulfill the arrangement with Master A-Phûn, and the twelve-dish banquet that follows showcases Taiwanese haute cuisine, culminating in tshài-bué-thng, a "leftovers soup" made from every course's remnants. But the meal ends in rupture. Chi-chan draws the parallel to the dormitory: just as Ōzawa never asked Sparrow whether she wanted protection, Aoyama never asked Chi-chan. The person Aoyama treasures is not the real Ông Tshian-hòh (Chi-chan's Taiwanese name) but a docile interpreter who needs saving. Chi-chan formally resigns.

Aoyama spirals. Her appetite vanishes for the first time. During a trip, she praises the Empire's contributions to Taiwan, calling local innovations evidence of "polishing raw stone into jade." Mishima delivers a devastating critique: Aoyama's appreciation of the Island resembles exotic curiosity more than genuine respect, and nothing is more difficult to refuse than self-righteous goodwill. Aoyama recognizes her blind spot at last: She has been looking down on the Island while believing herself its champion.

In March, Aoyama walks for the first time to Chi-chan's neighborhood. The route reveals the stark divide between Taichū's Japanese center and its Taiwanese outskirts, a path Chi-chan walked for eight months. Near the Ōng family home, Chi-chan appears. Aoyama presents her deduction of Chi-chan's hidden history: after Chi-chan's mother died young, three of her mother's gē-tòa friends raised Chi-chan, teaching her languages, composure, and survival skills. Chi-chan confirms everything.

Aoyama delivers a formal apology, acknowledging her arrogance. Chi-chan admits she never truly opened her heart but affirms their meeting was fated. She concludes that a Mainlander and an Islander can never share a friendship of true equals. Aoyama invokes Ōzawa and Sparrow: Despite everything, the feelings between them are real. Chi-chan weeps, clasps Aoyama's hands, and agrees.

Neither declares friendship. Aoyama announces she is hungry. They walk toward the market as chinaberry blossoms fall around them. On the last day of March, standing on Taishō Bridge, they share one bowl of mitsumame, a dessert of fruit and jelly ice. The novel's final lines: "It was very sweet. It was very delicious."

A series of afterwords extends the story. Aoyama's adopted daughter, Aoyama Yōko, writes that her mother spent years trying to send the novel to Chi-chan but never succeeded; the twelfth chapter was added after Yōko cried at the original manuscript's sadder ending. Aoyama Chizuko died of lung disease in 1970. In a 1977 translator's note, Chi-chan, now living in the United States as Wáng Chiēn-hò, confirms the novel's fidelity and shares one anecdote: During an illness, Aoyama demanded seven bowls of noodles and then proposed marriage. A 1990 editor's note by Chi-chan's daughter, Wú Chèng-měi, a literary scholar, reveals that Chi-chan died peacefully in Taiwan in 1987. Yáng Shuāng-zǐ's final note confirms the entire work is her original creation, describing the book as a piece of amber preserving both the real past and imagined ideals.