If you are looking for a copy of Richard C. Bush's 2006 book, Untying the Knot: Making Peace in the Taiwan Strait, if you hurry you can pick it up at the low price listed below:
It looks like there are three copies available at these bargain-basement prices:
Glad I got my copy already. (But maybe I should put it up for sale...)
Sunday, May 31, 2020
Saturday, May 30, 2020
June 2: Webinar, "The Challenge of COVID-19: The Taiwan Experience"
I'm hoping to "attend" this webinar next Tuesday:
6/1/20: UPDATE FROM THE FAIRBANK CENTER:
6/1/20: UPDATE FROM THE FAIRBANK CENTER:
AVAILABLE ON ZOOM. CLICK HERE TO ATTEND.
WEBINAR – THE CHALLENGE OF COVID-19: THE TAIWAN EXPERIENCE
JUNE 2 @ 9:00 AM - 10:45 AM
Speakers:Jen-Hsiang Chuang, Deputy Director-General at Centers for Disease Control, Taiwan
Steve Kuo, President, National Yang-Ming University, Taiwan
Moderators:Winnie Yip, Professor of the Practice of Global Health Policy and Economics in the Department of Global Health and Population, Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health; Director, China Health Partnership.
William Hsiao, K.T. Li Research Professor of Economics in Department of Health Policy and Management and Department of Global Health and Population, Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health
Organizer: Steven Goldstein, Sophia Smith Professor of Government, Emeritus, Smith College; Fairbank Center Associate
Will write up some notes about it afterwards (assuming I have time!).Webinar is available using Microsoft Teams or Chrome, Firefox, or Edge.No registration is required.
Click here to attend.
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
Our second floor feels like a three-warms
My wife told me this afternoon that our upstairs felt like a 三溫暖 (sān wēnnuǎn; sauna), and that got me thinking about the origins of this term.
But to start with a digression: for some reason, when I typed 三溫暖 into Google Translate, it romanized it as "Sān wēng nuǎn" instead of "Sān wēn nuǎn." I'm not sure why. But I noticed that if I put spaces between the characters: 三 溫 暖, Google "fixed" the transliteration to ""Sān wēnnuǎn." If I leave a space between 三 and 溫暖, it's OK. But as soon as I put 三 and 溫 together, it becomes "Sān wēng nuǎn." Why is that? Here are some screen shots to prove it!
But to start with a digression: for some reason, when I typed 三溫暖 into Google Translate, it romanized it as "Sān wēng nuǎn" instead of "Sān wēn nuǎn." I'm not sure why. But I noticed that if I put spaces between the characters: 三 溫 暖, Google "fixed" the transliteration to ""Sān wēnnuǎn." If I leave a space between 三 and 溫暖, it's OK. But as soon as I put 三 and 溫 together, it becomes "Sān wēng nuǎn." Why is that? Here are some screen shots to prove it!
Getting back to the point of this post. I found several sources that say 三溫暖, like its synonym 桑拿 (sāngná) are transliterated loanwords from English. (To me, though, it's easier to hear "sauna" from sāngná than from sān wēnnuǎn.)
This led me to wonder if there was actually something in traditional Chinese referring to "three warms." Looking up "三溫暖是什麼意思" I found that a lot of people in China were evidently curious about this, too. One respondent on a forum on Baidu wrote, that 三溫暖 was what people in Taiwan call 桑拿:
一个台湾朋友给了很权威的解释:Sauna,在台湾翻译成“三温暖”,其实是兼顾了音译和意译。“三温暖”除了跟英语的“Sauna”读音相近外,意思上也表达了这个蒸汽浴的传统。传统的芬兰桑拿房是全木结构,在桑拿房靠墙建有三阶木榻,每阶的温度各不一样,中下层的温度更低,方便老人家和小孩子,而上面那层温度最高,适合身体好的青壮年人享用,因为Sauna屋有三阶温度各异的木榻,所以称“三温暖”,意思也贴合。
To Googlify:
A Taiwanese friend gave a very authoritative explanation: Sauna, translated as "three warmth" in Taiwan, is actually a combination of transliteration and free translation. "Sanwennuan" is similar to the English pronunciation of "Sauna", which also expresses the steam bath tradition. The traditional Finnish sauna is made of all-wood structure. There are three steps of wooden couches built against the wall of the sauna. The temperature of each step is different. The temperature of the middle and lower levels is lower, which is convenient for the elderly and children. The upper level has the highest temperature and is suitable for young and middle-aged people who are in good health to enjoy. Because a sauna house has wooden beds with third-order temperatures, so it is called "three warmth", and the meaning also fits.
But then they add, interestingly, something about the meaning of 三溫暖 in Korea:
韩式“三温暖”:就是头一汤泡到摄氏36度的水池里十分钟,然后跳到冷水池里;第二汤泡到40度的水池里十分钟,接着再跳到冷水池里;最后是干、湿桑拿十分钟,再跳到冷水池里。这样,热水下皮肤伸张,排出身体中的污垢、头屑等排泄物;冷水下,皮肤收紧,防止脏物回流。如此“三热”、“三冷”,构成“三温暖”。按照韩国人的说法,三温暖可促进血液循环和新陈代谢,对肌肤美容和体形塑造有神奇效果。
To roughly (and Googly) translate:
Korean-style "three warmth": the first time is to soak in the pool at 36 degrees Celsius for ten minutes, and then jump into a cold pool; the second time is to soak in the pool at 40 degrees for ten minutes, and then jump into the cold pool. The last is a dry and wet sauna for ten minutes before jumping into the cold pool. In this way, the skin stretches under hot water to discharge dirt, dandruff and other excretions from the body; under cold water, the skin tightens to prevent the backflow of dirt. Such "three hots" and "three colds" constitute "three warms". According to Koreans, Sanwennuan can promote blood circulation and metabolism, and has a magical effect on skin beauty and body shape.I'm not much of a saunaphile, so I can't say which of these interpretations best fits the Taiwanese idea of saunas. (I should add that my wife is also not a frequenter of saunas, but said she has heard the "Korean" description more than the "Finnish" one in Taiwan.) All I can say is that it was hot upstairs today!
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
Go Grandriders 不老騎士
I saw that 「不老騎士:歐兜邁環台日記」 Go Grandriders (2012) was on Kanopy and asked our school library to order it. I'm thinking of using it in my Travel Writing class in the fall as a look into another perspective on travel by looking at what motivates the elderly people in this documentary (averaging over 80 years old) to go on a motorcycle trip around Taiwan. The movie came out about a year after I left Taiwan, but evidently it was filmed in 2007, while I was still there. For some reason, though, I don't recall hearing about this trip while I was there (though I imagine it was in the news). And I only had a vague recollection of the film before I "discovered" it on Kanopy. Here's the trailer for the movie:
As you can see from the trailer, the film is somewhat sentimental. Reviews that I read of the movie ranged from Miriam Bale's snarky and dismissive hit piece to slightly more appreciative pieces, like Justin Chang's review that calls the movie "warmly ingratiating" while admitting that the movie is somewhat superficial and at times "unexciting."
But I wonder how the film plays to different audiences. It seems to have been well-received in Taiwan, as well as in Hong Kong and South Korea (Chinese Wikipedia). It touches on some aspects of Taiwanese modern history, particularly the Japanese colonial period when some of the riders had been police or on opposing sides of the war between Japan and China. It might be that a reaction like Bale's is due at least in part to not understanding the whole context of the film. Bale claims (she doesn't support the statement, so I can't call it an argument) that what she calls "mystery" in the film comes "mostly from omission in the sometimes inept storytelling." But my guess is that anyone familiar with Taiwan's history--the primary audience of the film--would not find much mysterious about it. When one of the riders, a former Nationalist Chinese soldier, says that another rider, a Taiwanese lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese army, used to be enemies but that "a smile between brothers can melt enmity"(兄弟一笑泯恩仇), this seems no mystery to me (the question then being whether it's the director's responsibility to spoonfeed Taiwanese history to an American viewer like Bale).
It might be, too, that the style of the movie is also more suitable for some East Asian audiences than for American audiences. That's certainly a possibility, given the fact that the film was a winner at the Asian American International Film Festival and was nominated at the 17th Busan International Film Festival and the Hong Kong Asian Film Festival. However, it's also interesting to observe that the most positive review I saw published was by Frank Scheck, in which he concludes,
At any rate, I'll be interested to see how students in my Travel Writing online class respond to the movie. I'm putting together some questions for them to think about regarding the role of place vs. the role of the journey in the film. I'll have to think more about the questions, which will probably involve watching it again. Pass the Kleenex, please!
As you can see from the trailer, the film is somewhat sentimental. Reviews that I read of the movie ranged from Miriam Bale's snarky and dismissive hit piece to slightly more appreciative pieces, like Justin Chang's review that calls the movie "warmly ingratiating" while admitting that the movie is somewhat superficial and at times "unexciting."
But I wonder how the film plays to different audiences. It seems to have been well-received in Taiwan, as well as in Hong Kong and South Korea (Chinese Wikipedia). It touches on some aspects of Taiwanese modern history, particularly the Japanese colonial period when some of the riders had been police or on opposing sides of the war between Japan and China. It might be that a reaction like Bale's is due at least in part to not understanding the whole context of the film. Bale claims (she doesn't support the statement, so I can't call it an argument) that what she calls "mystery" in the film comes "mostly from omission in the sometimes inept storytelling." But my guess is that anyone familiar with Taiwan's history--the primary audience of the film--would not find much mysterious about it. When one of the riders, a former Nationalist Chinese soldier, says that another rider, a Taiwanese lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese army, used to be enemies but that "a smile between brothers can melt enmity"(兄弟一笑泯恩仇), this seems no mystery to me (the question then being whether it's the director's responsibility to spoonfeed Taiwanese history to an American viewer like Bale).
It might be, too, that the style of the movie is also more suitable for some East Asian audiences than for American audiences. That's certainly a possibility, given the fact that the film was a winner at the Asian American International Film Festival and was nominated at the 17th Busan International Film Festival and the Hong Kong Asian Film Festival. However, it's also interesting to observe that the most positive review I saw published was by Frank Scheck, in which he concludes,
The filmmaker documents the proceedings in refreshingly matter-of fact-fashion, thankfully avoiding the temptation to overly sentimentalize or mine cheap humor and contrived suspense from the proceedings. It somehow seems doubtful that an American director would have shown such restraint.I don't know much about Scheck besides the fact that he's described as an "American film critic," but he has a more understanding perspective on the film than Bale.
At any rate, I'll be interested to see how students in my Travel Writing online class respond to the movie. I'm putting together some questions for them to think about regarding the role of place vs. the role of the journey in the film. I'll have to think more about the questions, which will probably involve watching it again. Pass the Kleenex, please!
Saturday, May 02, 2020
Finished reading Before the Storm
So I decided that instead of feeding my rage over what's going on currently, I'd give myself a chance to rage about the past. I just finished Rick Perlstein's 2001 history of '60s conservatism, Before the Storm: Barry Goldwater and the Unmaking of the American Consensus.
Like the other two Perlstein books that I've read (Nixonland and The Invisible Bridge), this book was packed with historical details of famous, infamous, and little-known events and people, seemingly culled (by Perlstein or his research assistants) from newspapers of every size across the US. In with the assassination of John F. Kennedy, the candidacy of Maine senator Margaret Chase Smith (the first woman to run for president as part of a major party), and the murder of Kitty Genovese are such details as the number of African American journeymen in the Brooklyn plumbers' local ("three ... out of several thousand members" [236]), the rise of businesses and products catering to fears of nuclear war (like "'Foam-Ettes--the Toothpaste Tablet You Can Use ANYTIME, ANYWHERE--WHEREVER YOU ARE, even in a family fallout shelter' [143]"), and the origins of the boysenberry and its relationship to the growth of conservatism.
Unfortunately, some of Before the Storm is as hard to read as that previous sentence probably was. Like a lot of readers (at least judging from the book's reviews on Amazon), I came to this book last, after having read Nixonland and The Invisible Bridge. Reading the books out of order like this, I can see how Perlstein's style has (fortunately) developed. Like the later books, this one sometimes takes detours in the narrative to bring readers up to date about a figure, trend, or other historical development that is important to the overall story. At times, however, the detours were not accompanied with proper signage and I found myself lost when I was back on the main road. At times I'd be reading along and suddenly come along a sentence like, "By July, ..." and wonder, "July of what year?"
Overall, though, I learned a lot from this book. It even clued me in on a 1953 executive order signed by Eisenhower "demanding homosexuals be fired not just from all federal jobs bur from all companies with federal contractors--one-fifth of the U.S. workforce" (490). This order, Executive Order 10450, was interesting to me as it seems to have formed part of the context in which George Kerr was forced to resign from his work at Stanford with the International Cooperation Administration. (See my brief bio of Kerr in the Camphor Press edition of Formosa Betrayed.)
I see that Perlstein has a new volume coming out in August: Reaganland. I'm looking forward to it, but considering that the Amazon website says it's 1040 pages long, it'll be a while before I get to it...
Like the other two Perlstein books that I've read (Nixonland and The Invisible Bridge), this book was packed with historical details of famous, infamous, and little-known events and people, seemingly culled (by Perlstein or his research assistants) from newspapers of every size across the US. In with the assassination of John F. Kennedy, the candidacy of Maine senator Margaret Chase Smith (the first woman to run for president as part of a major party), and the murder of Kitty Genovese are such details as the number of African American journeymen in the Brooklyn plumbers' local ("three ... out of several thousand members" [236]), the rise of businesses and products catering to fears of nuclear war (like "'Foam-Ettes--the Toothpaste Tablet You Can Use ANYTIME, ANYWHERE--WHEREVER YOU ARE, even in a family fallout shelter' [143]"), and the origins of the boysenberry and its relationship to the growth of conservatism.
Unfortunately, some of Before the Storm is as hard to read as that previous sentence probably was. Like a lot of readers (at least judging from the book's reviews on Amazon), I came to this book last, after having read Nixonland and The Invisible Bridge. Reading the books out of order like this, I can see how Perlstein's style has (fortunately) developed. Like the later books, this one sometimes takes detours in the narrative to bring readers up to date about a figure, trend, or other historical development that is important to the overall story. At times, however, the detours were not accompanied with proper signage and I found myself lost when I was back on the main road. At times I'd be reading along and suddenly come along a sentence like, "By July, ..." and wonder, "July of what year?"
Overall, though, I learned a lot from this book. It even clued me in on a 1953 executive order signed by Eisenhower "demanding homosexuals be fired not just from all federal jobs bur from all companies with federal contractors--one-fifth of the U.S. workforce" (490). This order, Executive Order 10450, was interesting to me as it seems to have formed part of the context in which George Kerr was forced to resign from his work at Stanford with the International Cooperation Administration. (See my brief bio of Kerr in the Camphor Press edition of Formosa Betrayed.)
I see that Perlstein has a new volume coming out in August: Reaganland. I'm looking forward to it, but considering that the Amazon website says it's 1040 pages long, it'll be a while before I get to it...
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