Book review: "The Butcher's Wife" is a brutal read

Content note: this book is about sexual assault and domestic violence. I don't know what else to say. Don't read this book (or this post) if you aren't in a place where you can engage with such topics. 


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Years ago in a used bookstore in downtown Singapore, I came across a lonely copy of The Butcher's Wife, by Li Ang. 

Li cemented herself as one of my favorite Taiwanese authors with The Lost Garden, only recently available in English translation despite not being a new novel. The Butcher's Wife, however, is probably her most famous work. You're unlikely to find the translated edition in a library or bookshop, but Amazon seems to offer it. 

To be honest, it's barely a novel. I'd call it a novella. A very long short story. It's straightforward, and brutal. 

The brevity of the story renders it highly engaging. Longer works of Taiwanese fiction tend toward narrative structures that can be a little hard to follow. Stories branch out or coil around in a spiral, glancing at the main plot -- perhaps sideswiping it now and again -- until zeroing in at the last moment. (The Lost Garden certainly did this). The Butcher's Wife, in contrast, opens with an arresting scene. I mean that literally: Lin Shi spies her mother having sex with (or rather, being haved sex with) a soldier, whom we later learn has promised the malnourished woman two rice balls in exchange. 

It's not consensual, as even "willing" sex work in desperate circumstances -- when you wouldn't have agreed if you didn't need the money, food or housing -- generally isn't. But, according to the family members who hog-tie her to a pillar in the ancestral hall, that's not good enough: she didn't put up a fight, her dress was still intact and freshly pressed, so the act of a hungry woman is considered adultery, not desperation. 

This sets the story in motion, leading Lin Shi herself to be banished from her family and married off to a pig butcher. 

It's also the first time the story shows us that the status of women in Taiwanese society, or any patriarchal society (which is to say, just about all of them), isn't due to some sort of natural difference between the sexes or any notion of fairness. It's a horrific triad of economics, violent misogyny, and silence. 

Later on, Lin Shi herself remarks that she is not entirely unhappy married to "Pig Butcher Chen". She has food and shelter, which isn't exactly nothing in 1950s rural Taiwan, for a woman with a so-called questionable past. Chen Jiangshui, the butcher, spends his mornings slaughtering pigs, comes home and rapes Lin Shi almost daily, and then gambles and drinks for the rest of the day. Lin Shi almost begins to endure it, thinking her life isn't terrible. 

In short, she's starting to come around to the idea that men are terrible, but it's possible to grit your teeth through their abuse if the rest of your life is going well enough. 

But then we learn that Chen specifically enjoys the screaming of a trapped woman. Before marriage, he paid prostitutes generously to scream like a stuck pig; it's implied that he enjoys butchery for the same reason. His butcher's knife is implicitly compared to his penis, and the squeals of pigs trapped in the "V-shaped" butcher's table (hm) contrasted with the screams of his abused wife. 

This could be read narrowly as the story of one sadistic man who gets off on violence. But Lin Shi was put in this position because all of society seems to enjoy watching women suffer. If they didn't, why would they have created abusive structures like the ones Lin Shi and her mother are both forced to endure? 

I'm not an expert in the symbolism of nomenclature in Mandarin-language literature, but it seems significant to me that Lin Shi's name (林市) means "forest and city" -- so, everywhere, really. Chen Jiangshui's name (陳江水) means "river water", implying an ever-flowing river. Chen lives, of course, in Chencuo (陳厝), which is a village name for an ancestral clan who dominates the area. In other words, violence against women is everywhere. It never stops. It's not one shitty guy, it's every shitty person who lets it happen and patriarchy throughout history that has rendered it acceptable. 

You'd think my least favorite character in The Butcher's Wife would be Chen, but it's actually elderly neighbor Auntie Ah-wang. She's the elderly archetype of every gossipy bint I've ever known or read about, and I've known a few real-life versions of her. She's endured violence at the hands of patriarchy as well; her feet had at one point been bound, which has disabled her for life. However, they were unbound early (we aren't told why, but my educated guess is that the family couldn't afford to keep her sedentary at home; perhaps they needed her to work). She gets into an argument with her daughter-in-law, who attempts to stand up to her. Through drastic means, she wins. 

Auntie Ah-wang hides behind a nearby wall listening to Chen rape and abuse Lin Shi. She knows it is rape, because at first she offers the young bride a soothing ointment. Later, she tells all the women of the village that Lin's cries are of sexual ecstasy and that the girl is a slut just like her mother. }

This is where society is complicit in Chen's treatment of Lin: he wouldn't be able to treat her as he does if her neighbors objected. Not only do they condone his behavior, but praise him -- and his upholding of patriarchal structures, which include some respect for much older women -- while victim-blaming Lin Shi. Even in attempting to create some small measure of economic freedom when her husband stops bringing her food, she's mocked by other women and further abused by him.

It's not just men. It's certainly not just a few violent men. It's all of society, women included, and the economic structures that uphold patriarchy. Which, to be clear, are just about all economic structures. (Yes, even communism. Sorry tankies.) 

This sets the characters on a path to annihilation. The Butcher's Wife was written in the 1980s so it's hardly a spoiler, but I won't divulge the ending here in case you're unaware. 

The Butcher's Wife was difficult and disturbing to read. The characters reminded me so much of patriarchal violence I've seen and heard about in real life, from shades of Auntie Ah-wang in the pink-vested women who would hand out anti-gay literature during the referendum to the stories of domestic abuse and societal complicity that I heard about living in China. One woman I know married the only make foreigner in town, even though he too was pretty awful, because the entire town blamed her for divorcing her husband. "A man never beats a good wife, so she must have done something to deserve it," they apparently said. 

I am sadly reminded of a friend who took her life. Her boyfriend was not abusive, but her father kicked her out of the family, her mental health problems prevented her from holding down a job, her former boss was petty and vindictive, suing her for something I am quite certain he knew she never did, and she didn't receive nearly enough social support. Her friends tried to help, but ultimately we failed. I'll never fully forgive myself for this, and I'll always struggle more than I otherwise would to read stories like this of society failing women. I suspect most women have experienced a trauma that affects them in some way, as well. 

Lin Shi doesn't even get that much acknowledgement. She takes her fate into her own hands, and for it, she is condemned by the village for being the only one at fault. Leading the pack, of course, is Auntie Ah-Wang. 

I have one final observation to make. It's a fairly obvious one. Sometimes I come across foreigners in Taiwan who think this is a gentle society of school-obsessed nerds who, I dunno, study engineering and drink tea in fine porcelain cups and never do crime. This is simply not true. Taiwan has higher domestic violence statistics than you might think, though they are lower than in Australia, which has a comparable population. Cases have been rising, not falling. Spousal abuse was only outlawed in 1998 (!), meaning it was still legal when The Butcher's Wife was written. Marital rape was outlawed at roughly the same time. There was no law against stalking until 2021, which is terrifying.

When I first moved here I felt like Taiwan was a crime-free society! Of course this is ridiculous, but just the ability to safely walk around alone at all hours of the night was astounding to me. I've been sexually harassed and assaulted in India, nearly mugged twice in Washington DC, followed and catcalled in countless other cities. 

But no, patriarchy is everywhere. Even seemingly 'safe' Taiwan. The Butcher's Wife may have been written in the 1980s, about what I presume was the 1950s (given the presence of the soldier in the beginning of the story). But it tells a tale as old as time: it's not just men who are beasts. It's all of us. 

On sexual harassment, the KMT remains unaccountable for their own actions

I don't have a good photo, even a metaphorical one, so please enjoy a Tainan street scene.

My second job in Taiwan was arguably the worst job I've ever had. It was worse than my "they say we're teachers but it's actually kind of like working at the Gap" job at one of the big chain cram schools, if you can imagine such a thing. I won't name them because they're litigious, and I also tend not to tell the full story -- it involves treating my husband in an unacceptable way -- without a drink in hand.

It wasn't always a nightmare; the first few years were solidly okay, perhaps even enjoyable. Then they changed office managers and I started noticing a pattern I couldn't quite elucidate then, but understand better now: the inability of anyone in the office to be accountable for the most minor of mistakes, let alone apologize or do anything proactively to address the error.

Scheduled for three weeks straight -- including weekends -- despite specifically requesting that not happen? Let's not point fingers, can you just do us this favor? A teacher was not informed of a class cancellation? I don't recall. Random errors appearing in teaching materials, to the point of occasional incomprehensibility? No, you don't understand, that's just a different variety of English. 

There was also a rumor that another teacher was accused of acting inappropriately toward female (adult) students and admitted as much to management. I say "rumor" because I didn't witness it, but I was told by the person accused. He showed no outward guilt, and seemed pleased that there were no repercussions. I knew then that I would leave as soon as possible (there were other reasons, but this was a major catalyst). 

We all make mistakes, and I started out apologizing for mine, however minor. I soon realized that an apology was considered a deep admission of guilt: you'd get a long talking-to in a meeting they were frequently late for (forcing you to wait twenty minutes to an hour for a lecture you didn't need as you'd already acknowledged fault).

Rarely was anyone fired, but if you took accountability rather than making excuses and refusing to admit fault, you felt like you were on constant probation.

My purpose here isn't to make them look bad (which is part of why I won't name them), but to tell a small slice of my story while making a larger point about small-scale cultures where accountability and apology aren't the first steps to reconciliation and rectification, but an opening to heap shame on the person admitting fault.

I'd let these memories sink into the morass of things best not fixated on, only to have them come roaring back as I watch the various political parties rush to address their past mistakes in dealing with sexual harassment. I thought this was just the memory of that one guy who seemed proud that he was making female students feel uncomfortable, but my subconscious made the connection before I did. It wasn't that one incident, it was the whole culture of refusing to acknowledge mistakes, let alone admit them or, heaven forfend, apologize. 

It shows strength of character to admit error, take accountability, apologize, rectify the situation if possible and take action to ensure it doesn't happen again. I  learned this in my twenties -- later than I should have -- and it's everyone's duty as adults to do the same. 

That's why it bothers me that as this Not-Really-#MeToo movement unfolds, I mostly feel dismay. 

On the DPP side, people rightfully lost their jobs. Their mistakes can never be fully rectified, but at least there were eventual consequences to their actions. Lin Fei-fan, the former Sunflower leader accused by the media of knowing about the cover-up of the Women's Department case, has ended his candidacy for the legislature. There have been some serious shake-ups at the DPP -- not serious enough, but it's a start.

It's unclear why exactly he quit the race. Perhaps the party decided it was best to shelve him for a future race, perhaps he was a sacrificial lamb, or perhaps he himself decided it was the best course of action in terms of being accountable, or his future political prospects (or both). The DPP absolved him of responsibility, so I suspect the decision was ultimately his own. 

Although it's not for me to say whether it's the right or wrong decision, I admit I'm sad to see Lin drop out. Not following up on the case in question was indeed a mistake, but crucially, to me, he's one of the only people embroiled in this incident to have acknowledged as much and apologized. I don't think his actions are in line with someone who committed a cover-up.

Lin acted like an adult: he was the supervisor at the time, so he decided the buck stopped with him and that he should be held, in his words, to a higher standard. Accountability is hard and it takes guts to apologize, but it's the right thing to do. It's what I want to see in Taiwan's elected leaders.

This is not to absolve the entire DPP. To put it colloquially, they fucked up real bad. he only way out of that is to figure out what went wrong and fix broken mechanisms so it doesn't happen again. Lin himself has said as much repeatedly.

The KMT, on the other hand, has been posturing quite a lot on their commitment to gender equality and a harassment-free culture, but I've yet to see much in the way of real consequences for the many, many cases that have occurred within the party.

New Taipei mayor and presidential candidate Hou You-yi was in charge when a city employee committed suicide over sexual harassment in the city's health bureau. Although the supervisory committee said the bureau handled the case incorrectly, Hou stated that the bureau acted "with humility", but has not apologized or accepted any sort of accountability for the goings-on in his administration, and is accused of trying to bury the news.

Hou, of course, is still the KMT presidential candidate. He's spent a lot of time criticizing the DPP, which the DPP has called hypocritical (Presidential candidate Lai Ching-te called Hou the "last one who can criticize"). 

If Lin had stayed in the race, he would have faced off against current KMT legislator Wang Hong-wei, who narrowly beat Enoch Wu for the seat. The DPP clearly thinks this district is winnable, seeing as they keep throwing star power at it. Wang, as you might have guessed, called on Lin to withdraw from the race. Then she mocked his apology and withdrawal statement as being for the "social disturbance" the incident has caused rather than his own actions (Lin has expressed regret for his actions multiple times), as well as calling her out for "double standards and political manipulation". 

Apparently, Wang didn't think this was fair. Is she right? Did Lin err in calling her duplicitous rather than focusing all of the shame on himself? To determine that, let's look at Wang's actions more broadly.

KMT legislator and former Lienchiang (Matsu) county magistrate Chen Huseh-sheng was found guilty of sexually harassing DPP legislator Fan Yun and ordered to pay NT$80,000. Fan expressed unhappiness with the verdict; it's a small fine well within Chen's means to pay, and he remains in the legislature where Fan has said she feels "disgusted" to have to see him. 

Wang has said asking Chen to resign would be "inappropriate", backing that up with a whole truckload of nonsense. She said there are "many forms of sexual harassment, and some of them are despicable...such as abuse of power", which this was not, and that Chen's case is "worthy of vigilance" but did not merit asking for his resignation. 

In other words, an actual sexual harasser found guilty in a court of law should not have to resign because "sexual harassment takes many forms" and this one was not "despicable" enough, but Lin -- who has never been accused of sexual harassment -- should drop out of the race because he didn't follow up on a case that was reported to him as resolved?

Yep, that's a double standard.

The other high-profile case in the KMT revolves around Hualien legislator, convicted criminal and all-around asshat Fu Kun-chi, who was accused of sexual harassment by a media personality while he was serving as Hualien county magistrate. The comment section of the initial post included several people pointing out that he was a known serial offender.

While the KMT has said they will investigate the issue, Fu's office refuses to make any meaningful comment, and former Taipei mayor Hau Lung-pin, whom the victim named as a witness, has said he "doesn't have a clear memory" of what happened. 

Wang Hong-wei, after spending so much time attacking Lin Fei-fan, apparently has no energy left to say a single goddamn thing about Fu Kun-chi. 

I'd certainly call that a double standard too, and I'm not the only one saying so. Wang and other KMT members sure talk a lot about not tolerating sexual harassment, but when sexual harassment in their own party comes to light, they seem pretty tolerant to me. I guess it's easy to tolerate anything if you "don't have a clear memory". 

You know who else in the KMT nobody seems to have a thing to say about? Taipei deputy mayor Lin Yihua. Her former office director, Lin Tinglin, was found guilty of rape in 2021. The court decided that although Mr. Lin had resigned before the incident took place, he was still Lin Yihua's employee as he continued to volunteer at her office and wear a campaign vest bearing her name. Lin Yihua was found jointly responsible for Mr. Lin's conduct and forced to pay part of the settlement.

Not only did Mr. Lin deny the allegations, appeal the ruling, call himself the victim and say the relationship was "consensual", but Lin Yihua herself tried to argue that she was not responsible as the perpetrator had technically already resigned.

Does Wang Hong-wei or anyone at all in the KMT care to ask Lin Yihua to step down for failing to be accountable for the actions of her office staff? No. She remains a rising political star in the KMT.

I will freely admit my bias against the KMT -- I just can't get over that whole White Terror thing, not to mention their current pro-China leanings -- and it's true that they've launched an investigation into the handling of sexual assault allegations, promising the issue will be handled "satisfactorily". They've even put a few token women on the committee, while refusing to divulge anything about their background! 

Maybe I'm being unfair. I can't say for certain that the KMT's new bureaucratic this-n-that won't fix whatever is broken. Given their track record, however, their assurances plus NT$10 will buy a tea egg at 7-11. 

But I can say that the DPP has actually fired people over this, and pretty quickly too. Everything's still ticking along just like it always was at over at the KMT. When high-profile people actually get canned and those who helped cover for perpetrators step down from office, I'll believe that it means something.

The DPP is far from perfect, and I won't sit here like a brainless pine cone and insist they've done nothing wrong, or that there isn't something very broken in their own male-dominated party culture. But Lin Fei-fan apologized, reflected, stood up and took the hit like an adult. When Chen Hsueh-sheng and Fu Kun-chi are made to step down and Hou You-yi and Lin Yi-hua face similar accountability, maybe I'll believe that the KMT might turn a corner, too. 

Women Making Waves

This is a long ramble, so strap in. I have no intention of editing it to be shorter, though I might make some structural, proofreading or content edits.

Back when I finished DPP: The TV Show Wave Makers, I had all these high-minded ideas about how I would write about my perspective and impressions of the show as a medium of expression. I wanted to point out all the little things I noticed, such as the son of one of the main characters being named Yang-yang in a lovely nod to Edward Yang's Yi-Yi (A One and a Two). Wave Makers has more of a dramatic arc than Yang's last film, but the tone has a similar observational quality. Although the chief villain from the ruling party wasn't based on a certain former president per se, I noticed how Leon Dai's portrayal of a smarmy vice presidential nominee looked a hell of a lot like him; in one scene, the character is even seated in front of a Chinese painting of galloping horses. Horses! 

That former president has never been accused of sleeping with his assistants, but certain other figures in the KMT are fairly well-known for their alleged awful treatment of women. It's not hard to see what the character was based on.

Of course,  would also entail discussion of the central drama of the show: not the fictional election that takes place across the eight episodes, but the show's feminist core in which women grapple with the ways that politics and society both target and fail them. I too have voiced concerns over the treatment of women in social and political movements -- for instance, while not nearly as bad as the right, the left has a misogynist streak that isn't talked about enough, and as a pro-Taiwan foreign woman I am sick to death of other Taiwan advocates supporting overt woman-haters, accused rapists, anti-abortionists and (mostly hypocritical) anti-LGBT tradwife-stanning all-around shitsacks. 

In other words, it is very hard sometimes to support Taiwan as a woman, when your fellow advocates think it's acceptable ("for Taiwan!") for someone who was found guilty of sexual assault and openly treats women like objects of either desire or mockery to be the president of the country where you vote. Although as a straight, cis white woman I deal with far less discrimination and violence than most other women, I too am infuriated by the active oppression of women being deemed acceptable as long as some other goal is considered more important. 

The show grapples with what it means to make compromises and sacrifices in the name of some higher ideal, which resonated with me. It's tiring, feeling some pressure to pretend women's issues don't matter (and therefore Republicans in office in the US are acceptable because they're better "Taiwan allies", even though this seems to no longer be true). I'm losing my patience for it, if that patience ever existed. If we don't all care for each other, and do our best not to sacrifice one group's wellbeing and then pretend there's nothing wrong with that, then what is the point of fighting authoritarianism at all? 

Anyway.

While Wave Makers was a fundamentally DPP-sympathetic show, anyone paying attention noticed that the creator was nevertheless trying to draw attention to the fact that sexual harassment, tolerance of anti-LGBT hate (including physical assault of gay people) and the resulting hypocrisy regarding what a progressive party claims to stand for are, if we're being honest, pretty rampant in the DPP. 

I also think anyone paying attention already knew that, but it was rarely discussed. 

I wanted to discuss all of this and more in a much longer post, but now I can't, at least not yet. What we're all following instead are the sexual assault allegations rocking not just the DPP, but the KMT and to some extent the Taiwan People's Party (TPP) on the heels of Wave Makers -- or more likely, because the 2024 election is starting up. Here's a mostly-complete rundown in English of the current accusations and scandals.

The initial story to break was eerily close to the main plot arc of the show: a female DPP employee was sexually harassed, the harassment was covered up, and legislative candidate, Sunflower leader and Guy With A Good Reputation Lin Fei-fan, tasked with supervising the department where it took place, allegedly knew and did nothing.

I say "allegedly" because I don't actually know what Lin knew. However, his explanation that he learned only that there was an incident but the parties chose not to pursue a formal complaint, and regrets not following up personally, makes more sense to me than all of the theoretical talk of respecting women, while denying any specific harassment took place, from the KMT.

Lin has also suspended campaign activities for the time being to work with the party investigation, met with women including female friends to ask their opinions, and discussed how pushing aside these issues for some semblance of "solidarity" is not good enough. He has offered a real apology and does not deny the incident happened.

I can't say for sure that he definitely knew there was a cover-up, or didn't. But these actions imply sincerity, and I think it is far more likely that he is telling the truth than not. I doubt a legislative candidate who wasn't taking the issue seriously would actually suspend their campaign activities.

To be honest, I've avoided this a little. Partly it was just life: I was in Tainan for work as the news kept breaking. Partly it's personal: I've experienced sexual harassment (to be honest, it was assault, but I've processed it, am doing well, and rarely think of it now). I've also had bad people attempt to use my previous openness about that experience against me through intentional misrepresentation, and watched a thread about it devolve into unrelated but overt lies. It sometimes bothers me that, if I am open about it, many people don't seem to reflect much on the ways in which their own inaction and silence has allowed an anti-woman culture like this to fester. I don't feel particularly shy about discussing this, but I also don't care to rehash it, either. 

There are other reasons why I felt conflicted about writing on this topic; I won't divulge them. 

Here is one I will discuss: I'm a woman, but I'm not Taiwanese. I don't subscribe very strongly to the notion that only people from certain groups should ever share their opinions -- generally, people from affected groups will have more thoughtful, nuanced and interesting things to say, but if an idea is well-reasoned and insightful, I don't mind as much where it comes from. What's more, plenty of bad ideas come from the right group of people: Wave Makers showed us this too, with all the nonsense being spewed on Taiwanese political talk shows.

However, on this particular issue, I'm somewhat uninterested in hearing all the chatter from anyone who is not a Taiwanese woman. That presumably includes myself! But more than that, although some insights have been welcome, I have trouble taking seriously all the copious wordage spilled by men about this issue that primarily (though, to be fair, not exclusively) impacts women. 

Much is made of the need for more Taiwanese voices in Taiwan discussion spaces, reporting and advocacy. There is merit to this. And yet, when an issue impacts women -- Taiwanese women, in this case -- so many men think they're qualified to weigh in as though specific perspective from the group most affected no longer matters. One example of this is the most recent Taiwan This Week on ICRT. I respect Gavin Phipps and while the show is good as long as the guests are good (they are often very good, but not always), I have a real problem with his inviting two white men on the radio to talk about sexual harassment mostly experienced by Taiwanese women.

Why? There wasn't a single woman -- better yet, Taiwanese woman -- they could have had on the show to discuss this very woman-centered issue? Frankly, it's infuriating. If we're going to talk about Taiwanese voices, great. But how about women's voices? Why is it still okay to stifle those? I hesitated because being a non-Taiwanese woman didn't feel like sufficient qualification to speak on this issue, but men in general are perfectly fine with it, it seems. Again, why?

Certainly, a good opinion is indeed a good opinion no matter where it comes from, but the only opinions that have made much sense to me in the past week have come from Taiwanese women. For example, this excellent piece in Voicettank (in Mandarin) discussing how Taiwan's #MeToo movement has not yet come (all the nattering men, in contrast, keep calling it "Taiwan's #MeToo movement"). 

I'm too tired to translate tonight, but writer Zhang Yinhui (張茵惠) points out all sorts of things that most women know in their gut, and men seemingly do not: that stories about sexual harassment and assault that can be easily told are also relatively easily solved, but most stories are complex and interwoven in structures built and maintained by imperfect people. Wave Makers showed us that there is no such thing as "the perfect victim", but it's hard to really feel that unless you are that imperfect victim, or one of their close connections.

Zhang also pointed out that the DPP nominating Li Zhenghao (formerly of the KMT, and accused but acquitted of non-consensual filming of his ex and refusal to delete the images, but not found guilty) caused a lot of progressive women to wonder why they were continuing to be silent so as to not "topple the bird's nest" -- that is, not threaten the DPP's chances of election. What's the point, when they're going to say they care, but then turn around and nominate someone like Li anyway?

Most importantly, Zhang noted that we cannot possibly say that Taiwan's current scandals constitute a #MeToo movement, because too many men who are known to be serial sexual harassers and offenders continue to be in power. She pointed to former Taipei mayor Ko Wen-zhe, who crowed about the DPP's scandals while ignoring allegations in his own party, the TPP. He's still running for president, and has openly and unapologetically said some horrifically misogynist things. He has paid no political or persona price for this.

She clarified that although the current spate of allegations focuses on the DPP, in fact the pan-blue camp has seen many more such cases by volume if you look at the past several years. The recent news has not caused much reflection in the opposition camp, either.

And yet, how many people are talking about the KMT's rampant issues with sexual harassment? A few, but not nearly enough. Besides, Zhang said, #MeToo is used by relatively powerful women to take down a few awful men. While this is a good thing, it hasn't done much to address systemic social and political failures that allow it to happen. 

I agree with this. Wave Makers got a more or less happy ending -- perhaps because creator Jian Liying herself has said she was harassed by exiled writer Bei Ling, who continues to call it a "fabrication", denying Jian her happy ending -- but chances are, the women coming forward across the Taiwanese political spectrum now will not. Recall how the issue of comfort women is repeatedly to score political points, but the actual World War II-era comfort women got very little justice? The same thing is happening here: accused of things they can't possibly ignore, both sides have turned into giant smearing machines, using real sexual harassment allegations not to seek justice for those harassed, but to attack each other. The victims probably won't get much of anything for all of it, let alone justice or, heaven forbid, systemic change.

Of course, men can experience sexual harassment and assault too, and in fact some of the allegations have been brought by men. I do think many men understand and empathize with what women face constantly; some have had it happen to them. So, I would never say that a man can't or shouldn't talk about these issues. Indeed, they can!

However, I find myself not particularly wanting to hear male perspectives on an issue that primarily, though not exclusively, affects women. The experience of being treated like a verbal punching bag by some men after I spoke more openly about what happened has made me more distrustful of men speaking about this issue -- some of that suspicion is justified, but I admit some might not be.

I say this gently, with only friendship in my heart. I've Donovan Smith's article in Taiwan News was factually correct, but didn't quite strike the core of the issue. Certainly, he can empathize with the current national conversation, and I know other men who understand because they've been harassed or assaulted, or been a target of people spreading lies about them without much recourse. So, I'm limiting my comments to this article only.

That is to say, the allegations wracking the DPP were all accurately summarized, and Smith did note that the KMT is hardly innocent in this regard. He's correct that the DPP cannot run on a platform of "okay, maybe we're also a little rotten but we're not as rotten as them".

However, to state that the current allegations of cover-up are only hitting the DPP, implying (though not outright saying) the problem is somewhat specific to the DPP, isn't quite right. There's a reason why this is hitting the DPP harder, and again it's locals who've pointed it out so succinctly.

News about sexual assault in the KMT hasn't taken off the way it should because everyone already knows the KMT has a rotten record on this. It's not surprising. That Fu Kun-chi is accused (and is denying anything happened) is not surprising. There's a list circulating on Facebook of all the known sexual assault allegations from other parties, and the vast majority -- far more than the DPP is dealing with currently -- are from the KMT. Some of these cases are known to have resulted in the woman's suicide (this link includes just one example, but there is at least one more, by a worker in Hou You-yi's administration in New Taipei, mentioned in the list liked above.) 

This is not to minimize the way the DPP has disregarded women's issues in its own ranks. These need to be dealt with, and to be honest, Zhang is right. They probably won't. It's simply necessary to point out that the DPP is catching most of the flak for this because people's expectations of the DPP are higher. This is partly due to Taiwan's political history, and partly because the DPP bills itself as the woman-friendly, progressive alternative to the traditional, rotten KMT. Of course they should do better! But it's also not right to let the KMT fester without comment, letting them win elections because the DPP looks bad on some issue, when they're actually worse on that same issue.

What's more, these scandals are hitting the DPP now because, from what I've read about the KMT's history with this issue, women who are harassed more or less know that there's no point to speaking up. Politicians and officials will insist they take sexual harassment seriously, promise that they'll diligently follow up on every case, but either decline to comment or deny that any particular case happened at all.  The DPP does cover-ups, but the KMT outright denies.

Why complain when you know that's how it will go? Why should any woman think she'll be heard if she speaks up against a member of the KMT? From rumors that Lien Chan is a domestic abuser (if the messages between Lien's daughter and her friend at the American school showing evidence of misconduct sounds like a familiar plot point...well) to a KMT city councilor openly screaming about how a female firefighter who reported sexual harassment is at fault for not locking the door, they make it impossible to speak up. They know what they're doing, but I'm not convinced they truly know it's wrong.

The current scandal may be hitting the DPP harder, but this is deep, ingrained, societal and political, and it is the result of continually sidelining women, and then telling them to lay low rather than capsize the whole boat. That is, to not make waves. 

How many women have not had their talents fully recognized because they were not given the opportunity to shine by misogynists, and how many women slunk off and quit because, once landing that job, they were sexually assaulted? In comparison, how many men have had that happen to them?

Smith also assumes Lin Fei-fan "knew about the cover-up", linking to a shoddy TVBS article on the issue. As discussed above, I don't know what Lin knew, but it strikes me as more likely that he's telling the truth. To me, it feels a little too close to putting Lin in a similar camp as the KMT's overt denialism, which may be unfair.

Hell, even Annette Lu, who is so often wrong on contemporary issues, got it at least partly right this time: the current scandals are the direct result of a "male centric legacy" that treats women as objects that can be treated however men wish, that sexual harassment tends to be difficult to prove and therefore is rarely discussed, and that it's not unique to a particular party. 

If Annette Lu is right for the first time in awhile and her points are worth considering, maybe we really should be listening not to men -- and especially not white men -- but to Taiwanese women. Maybe we don't need an ICRT program that platforms two white men to talk about this issue. I always value Donovan Smith's contributions but maybe in this specific case, he's not the person to listen to. 

I've felt pressure to not make waves in pro-Taiwan circles, where absolute garbage humans are tolerated as long as they're sufficiently dedicated to Taiwan's cause. I've experienced sexual harassment not unlike what a lot of the women coming forward in Taiwan describe. I've felt pressure to then not speak about it too much. I fail to see how we can built not just a Taiwan recognized as independent of China, but also a Taiwan worth living in, if we ignore issues primarily (though again, not entirely) facing one marginalized group. The DPP is facing a similar conundrum: they claim to not only want Taiwan's continued independence, but also a better Taiwan for all citizens.

How can they do that if they, too, ignore women's safety and wellbeing? And how are we ever going to move forward if the stories of women finally being told are just being used as inter-party attacks and not steps toward real justice? How can we move forward if we don't prioritize women's -- especially Taiwanese women's -- voices? 

I have a lot of Taiwanese female friends (they all speak good English; maybe ICRT could have asked one of them, or literally any insightful Taiwanese woman, to discuss this issue). They're feeling this hard right now. I see it on their faces, I hear it in their voices even if we don't linger on the topic. Generally speaking, they're not interested in beating up on Lin Fei-fan for negligence (they're all dark green Sunflower supporters, so I'm not surprised). They already knew Fu Kun-chi was this kind of guy; even the initial post about him by media persona Tung Cheng-yu had several comments pointing out that he was a known serial harasser. 

What they do seem to want is justice. Change. For Taiwanese women to be listened to and taken seriously, even if they are not "perfect victims". To get opportunities they lose because men with power who hate women withhold them, or make them contingent on tolerating sexual harassment and assault silently. They're sick of being asked to choose between supporting the party that cares about Taiwan's continued independence, and speaking frankly on the ways that party has failed women. 

I may not be Taiwanese, but I am a woman, and I empathize. Indeed, empathy is possible from all corners, but I'm seeing a lot of mudslinging and very little movement towards actual change.

Book Review: Taiwan Studies Revisited

None of the online images were any good, so here's my own

In the past, I'd found it difficult to access the Routledge series on Taiwan research. The hardcovers are expensive (they're priced for university libraries) and it can take time for more affordable paperbacks to come out. There have been improvements in this situation, though. Paperbacks are coming out more frequently, making more titles available. I've thoroughly enjoyed reading Taiwan's Green Parties, Social Movements Under Ma Ying-jeou -- which I read years ago but didn't review -- and now Taiwan Studies Revisited. I'm currently working my way through The Spirit of 1895. If I can find a more affordable copy of Perverse Taiwan, it's next on my list. 

Today, I want to talk about Taiwan Studies Revisited. The central concept of the book revolves around authors of well-regarded books about Taiwan from decades past discussing the research and career trajectories that led to their publications, their arguments at the time, reviews and criticisms and how they feel their ideas have held up. There is another line of synergy running through each chapter, centering on the use of "China", as compared to Taiwan, as a conceptual touchstone, and how authors may have felt obligated or pressured to position their work as China-focused research.

Throughout, contributors also reflect on the evolution of Taiwan Studies over the last several decades, from the 'desert' of the 1990s to the relative prestige of today. Is Taiwan Studies still a marginalized area of inquiry, at best subsumed under China Studies, at worst seen as a career dead end? Taiwan Studies Revisited doesn't directly answer this question, but does reflect on it from multiple angles. Generally speaking, the outlook is positive. 

Featured academics include Simon Long, Melissa Brown, Anru Lee, Henning Klöter, Thomas Gold, Dafydd Fell and Michael Hsiao, among others, and was edited by Fell and Hsiao. It would take forever to recap each chapter; with regrets, I'll discuss only a selection of the ones I found particularly thought-provoking.

Overall, I enjoyed the 'recaps' of all of these fantastic works. Taiwan Studies Revisited can act as a sort of a collected Cliff's Notes of important research from decades past, either refreshing one's memory of books read long ago or giving you ideas about what to prioritize reading next. For example, Gold's chapter was a solid review of State and Society in the Taiwan Miracle, which I read ages ago, before I was doing book reviews. Brown's chapter focused on Is Taiwan Chinese? made me move that book -- sitting on my shelf but as-yet unread -- to the top of my list.  

While I was less interested in the conditions that precipitated the authors' specific research or their paths to becoming Taiwan-focused academics, it was notable to me how many started out interested in China but moved to Taiwan -- in Gold's case, finding the topic too interesting to abandon in favor of China. Yes, many encountered pressure to position their publications within a China framework as research on China tends to be higher-profile and get more attention than Taiwan, but those who actually began by wanting to focus on China and shifted toward Taiwan had the most interesting stories. 

I'm aware that Taiwan-based academics have held this debate among themselves: is Taiwan Studies part of a greater China-focused research area, what does it mean that to study Taiwan? Many must enter or work within the China Studies programs at their universities -- is this acceptable? 

Not that it matters, but I have my own opinion on this: if you are forced by circumstance to work within a China-focused framework but are aware of the inherent problem with that positioning, I have all the sympathy in the world. We do what we can in the circumstances we are handed, and not every university has a Taiwan Studies program. 

If, however, one actually sees oneself as ultimately within the China Studies paradigm, but studies Taiwan, then -- well, the kindest thing I can say is that I'm not impressed. I view all China-based observations, research, journalism and approaches with suspicion. If one actively positions Taiwan as part of some greater China-focused area of inquiry, to me that is a fundamental misunderstanding of Taiwan's uniqueness, even as I admit that China has greatly (but not entirely) influenced Taiwan. I will always take such work with an entire Tainan salt mountain of skepticism.

In other words, it's understandable to do what one can within a non-ideal academic environment. Moving from China to Taiwan-focused inquiry and comprehending what that means is also not a problem. In fact, it should be welcomed. But to see Taiwan-based research as ultimately one aspect of China-focused research, if that research is not directly related to the influences China has had on Taiwan? I'm out. 

Another thread I noted that spanned several chapters centered on social welfare in Taiwan. This is a good example of what one can learn from Taiwan Studies Revisited as several books across multiple areas of research are brought together.

It comes up in Joseph Wong's chapter on Healthy Democracies and Welfare Politics in Taiwan, Dafydd Fell's reflection on Party Politics in Taiwan, and Mikael Mattlin's discussion of Politicized Society. The development of, say, National Health Insurance (NHI) was an interplay of political and social forces: while it was ultimately promulgated by the KMT, early proponents and activists pushing for a nationalized health insurance system actually stemmed from the Tangwai, which eventually coalesced into the DPP. It's too simplistic to say that the KMT merely stole the opposition's idea for their own electoral gain (though in a sense, they did) -- the "race to the top" of benefit offerings was the result of both parties trying to buff up their social welfare bona fides during elections.

That said, before universal programs were pushed, the KMT regularly enacted highly discretionary welfare programs. Many citizens received little or no benefit from these, and they effectively created support blocs for the KMT (the book doesn't say this outright, but it is a logical conclusion and was borne out by the fight over pension reform several years ago). Here's what it does say: in changing this, groups that received the most benefits did "lose out" as their extra privileges were eroded, but the outcome was more universal -- though imperfect -- access.  

Here's something I didn't know: Wong notes that at one point, the KMT attempted to offload NHI through privatization. I believe this would have been disastrous. Fortunately, it never happened: opposition parties and social groups kept NHI under government purview, which probably kept it affordable and accessible for citizens. 

With that, I want to make an appeal: let us never again declare that the KMT should get all the credit for programs like NHI. Certainly, they enacted it, but they were not the only player in that game. 

I also found Melissa Brown's chapter to be of specific interest, in terms of both pressure to orient Taiwan-focused research as being under a China umbrella, and the specific issues women face in academia. Brown was the only female contributor to talk about sexism, but when a woman says she's faced discrimination, I tend to believe her. To see her tackle this issue head-on and even name some names was phenomenal (though I am sure those named were less than enthused). It's difficult to do this: as a woman, I know what it's like to ask myself, "is it really just me? Am I simply wrong, or less capable as an individual? Or is this an issue of unexamined sexism in which my ideas are given less credence simply because I'm a woman?" It can be hard to tell, and when I face what I feel is systemic sexism (and I have), I still struggle with being sure. 

Even if one is sure, it's even more difficult to speak up. Women who do so are regularly called irrational, emotional, "just angry", troublesome. People do say it's just us -- this or that woman is simply jealous or bitter that her individual star doesn't shine as bright, and it has nothing to do with her sex -- even when it's not true. It's hard to fight. An individual woman is not necessarily as capable as any given man simply because she's a woman, just as an individual man is not necessarily better at academia than any given woman simply because he is a man. You might be sure, but good luck trying to convince others of that. 

To come out and say it takes courage, and willingness to throw entire jungles' worth of shade. I'm here for it. 

One can say that Brown has not experienced much sexism -- after all, she wrote and published a fairly well-known book in the field, which was considered worthy enough to be included in this volume. Here is why I think Brown might have a point, though: Is Taiwan Chinese? -- a title she herself takes some issue with -- was published in 2004. It makes a very clear case for Taiwanese identity and elucidates the dynamics underpinning it. It's 2023, and people are still debating these dynamics as though she hadn't said anything at all. As though Taiwanese people "don't know who they are" because of how they answer the status quo poll, while the Taiwanese identity poll, which shows a clear consensus, is so often ignored. I find it a bit weird, to be honest. 

I also enjoyed this chapter because, as a woman not in, but interested in, Taiwan Studies, it's great to see women like Melissa Brown and Anru Lee -- whose focus is more domestic, on women and labor in Taiwan -- in publications like these. Often, I have been disappointed by other prominent Taiwan-focused women who take weird KMT-ish stances and pretend they're objective, or propagate viewpoints I think are simply wrong -- i.e. that somehow Taiwan and the US are "provoking" China rather than the truth: it's other way around. China creates the tensions, China decides what the provocations are, China expects everyone to dance around their arbitrary red lines. I want female role models who don't buy into this trap. 

There are a few more observations from other chapters worth mentioning. Gold is quite correct that Taiwan's story is more sociopolitical than economic. I'm happy to see that he finds Taiwan interesting in its own right. The interplay of private grief with public issues was fascinating in Lee's chapter, which focused on the 25 Ladies' Tomb in Kaohsiung. Long's chapter was interesting, but I found some of the conclusions faintly ridiculous. He outlines possibilities for the future which include "reunification on Beijing's terms" (as though Taiwan will ever agree to peaceful annexation by the CCP) or "unification on a compromise" (as though the PRC is willing to compromise and it would actually allow Taiwan sufficient autonomy). Most of them are not possible, and that should be immediately apparent. 

Klöter's chapter was of specific interest to me, as I'm currently learning Taiwanese with a private tutor (my Taiwanese still sucks, but I am getting somewhere.) I had always assumed use of a Romanized writing system was simply an invention of missionaries and not ideal. To learn that many view it as superior because it doesn't use Chinese characters -- that it's preferred because it's not rooted in Chinese culture and renders Taiwanese as something more unique to Taiwan -- was both fascinating and, to be honest, kind of cool. 

Mattlin points out several things I already knew, but it's great to see them in publication: that the KMT party elite's self-conception of their 'right to rule' (and yes, the KMT does in fact feel that way, although I suppose you could argue the DPP does as well albeit for very different reasons) is rooted in the system and symbolism of the ROC, which is why they fight so hard to preserve it. Mattlin calls the ROC "the raison d'être" for the KMT, and I can't deny that he was spot on then as he is now. 

All in all, Taiwan Studies Revisited is absolutely worth reading, either to see where the contributors stand now vis-à-vis their past work and how it's held up over time, or to get a condensed version of a range of books to help you better understand the field, or simply pick which book to read next.

The Day After

I don't have a good cover photo, so here's a relaxing picture I took of a beach in the Maldives. 

A pretty strong content warning on this. I'll be talking about hate speech by transphobes on the right and left. Suicide comes up. If that's not something you want to be around right now, I will never know and never care if you choose to skip this post. In fact, I'll respect you for your choices regarding your own wellbeing.

I also want to clarify that I know I'm not saying anything new. Trans activists have been talking about these issues for ages; it's just that I still see transphobia popping up around me, so maybe someone will read this and re-think. All I can really do is speak from a cis woman's perspective, so I try to keep to that. If you want to hear trans perspectives, I thoroughly enjoy the podcast Cancel Me, Daddy.

* * *

International Women's Day was this past Wednesday, and I really want to have cared.

I remember a time when Lao Ren Cha was specifically aimed at foreign women -- especially, but not exclusively, Western women in Taiwan. The experiences of that demographic most closely matched my own; it was an easy and frankly needed angle to take. At that time I would have written up something from that angle for something like International Women's Day without hesitation. 

At times I think about going back to that narrower focus. But, over the last decade-plus, as life in Taiwan has become simply life, not some exciting new immigrant or expat journey, what I have to say isn't always categorizable by gender. I'm also no longer sure that my experiences are similar enough to the average foreign female newcomer.

Of course I remain an ardent feminist even as my blogging focus has shifted: there isn't much about my personality that is reducible to my gender, and I believe as any reasonable person does that everyone should be considered as individuals, not an agglomeration of stereotypes about how "men" or "women" should think or act. 

When I came here as a starry-eyed twentysomething who believed that women, who bear so much sexism from society, could all come together in solidarity to end it. I believed then that valuable and meaningful discussions are possible with those I don't always agree with or like.

I still want to believe that's true. To some extent, I do: the idea that everyone is set in every belief is too simplistic. People can and do say things in the moment that, on further reflection, they realize are problematic, don't reflect their core values, or that they don't truly believe. I've certainly done it! Some people aren't open to new ideas, but many are.

And yet, there I sat two days ago -- a feminist blogger simply unable to write a single thing on International Women's Day. I don't generally attach great importance to specific days, but at the very least I believe that day should be one of raising each other up, not woman-on-woman conflict.

That does feel like women's rights discourse has become, however. We've always had to deal with reactionaries shouting down the concept of women having full human rights (like, say, the right to all forms of health care, including abortion), or treating women like human beings rather than some gaggle of mysterious sirens whose primary role is ornamental.

Now, however, it's clearer than ever that some of the misogyny has always come from inside the house. It feels impossible to simply engage with other feminists without having to listen to some trash talk about who is and isn't a woman (according to them), portraying some women as enemies or worse, predators, based on zero evidence -- simply because they were not assigned 'female' at birth. 

In short, I'm sick of transphobes shouting about how feminism is necessarily transphobic. This is a perspective I thoroughly reject. In fact, I find that ideology embarrassing in its hatefulness, and I hope everyone clinging to it is thoroughly abashed just like so many anti-gay folks who sure panicked a few years ago, but now realize they sounded like particularly bigoted turnips. (Not all of them have repented, but there has been a change in the overall discourse.) 

On International Women's Day, I seethed about it. I can really only speak from a cis perspective, but I felt genuine anger at the idea of women celebrating that day, but including only the women they deem "acceptable". I tweeted, but I didn't really write. The day after that, I started to question whether I could still truly justify that lofty ideal of solidarity. 

The day after, I decided that perhaps it was time to be clear about the fact that Taiwan, at least among Western women, has a TERF problem. 

I don't just mean transphobia, but specifically women who think of themselves as feminists, but exclude trans women from any discussion of women. To me, that's not feminist at all. It's not empowering; it's just exclusionary. The problem isn't limited to Taiwan expat communities: if you've listened to any of the rhetoric coming out of the West, it's everywhere. But it exists here too, and I live here, and I do not like it one bit. 

Certainly, transphobia also exists in local society as well. I don't think one post can really address that, nor do I think I'm the best person to do so. Perhaps it's because my primary language of communication is English, but when I go online most of the Taiwan-based anti-trans vitriol I see being spewed is from other Westerners. There are more of them than I would have guessed, and they're difficult to avoid if one wants to participate in feminist spaces.

Transphobic cis women will insist that women's spaces should segregate on the basis of...I'm not sure really. Genitals? Chromosomes? All sorts of things that are not always clear at birth? Something. They seem to truly believe that cis women are in general consensus on this, and "women's spaces" should therefore be for cis women only. 

I reject this. As a cis woman, let me be clear: there is no such consensus.

I as a cis woman refuse to be a part of any "women's space" that excludes trans women. If a group, event, meeting, club, activity, discussion or anything else is meant for only cis women, the creators might think it's for women like me, but it's not. I will not dignify the existence of spaces that claim to be for all women, but exclude some women regardless.

At that point, you don't have a "women's space" or a "feminist space", you have a transphobe space. Cis women like me who believe in inclusion for all women want nothing to do with you, so it's really just the TERFs who remain. 

And why would I want to be a part of any space that claims it must exist as it does to keep women "safe", as though trans women are inherently dangerous? (They are not.) Why would I want to be around people who talk big about that safety, but don't care at all about the safety of an entire demographic of women -- the ones they seek to exclude?

I won't awkwardly smile and try to make the best of it. I won't check my disgust at the door. I won't legitimize it with my presence. I won't pretend that these are just "differences of opinion" when the TERFs sound indistinguishable from the right-wingers and their ideology does real harm. 

It positions trans people as criminals when they're more likely to be the victims of crimes. It results in bullying, harassment and assaults on trans people. That, in turn, drives attempted suicide among trans people. It allows for the dissemination of disinformation targeted as "they're trying to trans your kids!", which can lead to the restriction of age-appropriate affirming care due to incorrect beliefs about such care. It allows essential care for women to deny access to some women.

All of it is in service to exactly one belief: that the problem is the penis and women with vaginas are therefore justified in excluding women with penises. 

Although penises are hilarious (have you seen them? What the hell?) I just don't think a body part is the problem. Patriarchal systems are the problem, and patriarchal systems are inherently anti-trans. They are cruel to trans people, as they are cruel to cis women. Perhaps the details differ, but the cruelty remains the point. So, hey, if you want to support the patriarchy, by all means continue to be a transphobe! 

That's not a difference of opinion. These are human lives. Trans people are more likely to die because of the way society treats them. I think beliefs that perpetuate this treatment are, in a word, sick.

I won't pretend that harm is acceptable in any feminist space I participate in. I will never agree that to be safe for me, a "women's space" must include only cis women. No, I don't feel unsafe in restrooms, because I have no reason to. In fact, being committed to inclusive women's spaces, I'm more interested in keeping them transphobe-free. At least then, we're telling people they're not welcome based on their ideology, not their fundamental personhood. 

I'm a liberal because I care about all people, even those who aren't like me. I'm a feminist because I care about equal opportunity for all women. I'm not interested in so-called liberal or feminist ideas that sound exactly like the right-wing reactionaries with whom I so profoundly disagree. 

Are you really a feminist if you sound just like the guy at CPAC who called for transgender people to be "eradicated from public life entirely"? Because the end goals are the same: restrict gender-affirming care, make it unacceptable to be publicly trans (especially a trans woman), make it very acceptable to demonize and bully trans people.

You can tell because the same "they're trying to steal our kids!" panic is prevalent in both the conservative and "feminist" forms of this ideology. And you can tell because even when the reactionaries say something that even the TERFs know is truly ridiculous ("trans people have no hobbies") or post memes alluding to trans suicide, the "feminists" never call it out. They're too busy screaming at trans people to stop for a moment and say "hey that meme is shitty and cruel". 

Why would I want to be included in "feminist" discourse or spaces where they sound exactly like Michael Fucking Knowles talking to Republicans?

And where does that leave me, a cis woman in Taiwan?

Well, it's hard to know where to find that coveted solidarity. I want no solidarity with bullies. I can't just assume something billed as "for women" will necessarily include and support all women; it's important carefully check every women's group, meetup or event to confirm. I've lost "friends" over it; that's fine, I broker no peace with disinformation-spewing transphobes posting cherry-picked predator memes. It's extremely hard to know when a transphobe-y comment is some thoughtless crap that can be challenged with some hope of success, or indicative of a deeper worldview that legitimizes exclusion and promotes bullying.

I also watch out for transphobes welcomed into otherwise inclusive spaces. I understand the impulse to welcome everyone, and I do think it's possible to change some minds with interaction. However, they are part of an effort to push transphobia into feminist spaces in Taiwan, and I just can't countenance that. I only participate if I think my presence as a cis woman trying to be a trans ally will turn that tide. 

It's important as well to keep an eye on the guys. Every once in awhile I hear a well-meaning dude in the Taiwan foreignersphere say or retweet some anti-trans garbage thinking he's being supportive of "women" because transphobic women he respects have told him so. The only way to counter that is to push back and be clear that not every cis woman agrees; some of us believe that respecting women means respecting all women.

As the moderator of an inclusive Facebook women's group, I have had no issues with trans women causing problems, but I must always keep an eye out for transphobes spewing hate against our very welcome trans members.

And finally, as the author of a long-running blog that once focused on women in Taiwan and now focuses on whatever I please, I feel that there is not enough trans-affirming discourse among Western residents of Taiwan. 

Certainly, the wider media landscape seems to be pushing an anti-trans narrative: you hear a lot about controversy over what transphobes say -- they seem to love interviewing transphobes all het up that kids are being dipped in hormone tanks without counseling, or whatever moral panic tropes they're buying into this week -- but not much at all on what it's like to just be a normal trans person living one's life. The exposure to the idea of trans individuals just being seems so rare. You hear a lot of "ARE THEY SALIVATING OVER MY KIDS???" talk, presented as Just Asking Questions but clearly seeking to terrify, and not nearly enough "oh hey I met her at a party, she was cool". 

I'm small potatoes media. Lao Ren Cha is literally just my blog that I do for free and for fun, on Blogspot of all godforsaken places because I'm too lazy to move to a better platform. So sure, this is like a warm, friendly piss in an ocean of ice-cold hate. 

But I can try, so here it is: as a cis woman, I reject anti-trans bigotry and discrimination. I reject right-wing talking points presented as somehow revolutionary and left-wing. They are not. I reject transphobe-welcoming spaces. This may mean I reject solidarity. This is unfortunate, but acceptable: I may not know how to bridge the divide, but I do know what my feminism stands for, and it stands for inclusion.

One final plug: if you are a woman or nonbinary (basically, not a man) and want to be part of an inclusive women's group that leans explicitly feminist and trans-welcoming, check out Super Awesome Taiwan Women. There is also the Feminist Study Group Meetup (I'm not in this, but I have it on good authority that they are inclusive). 

Blood Sugar Hex Magic

                       

Yes, it's a punny title, but I won't change it. 

It felt like magic when I began losing weight without trying. Several months out from COVID recovery, I'd changed exactly one habit: I was drinking an average of two liters of water per day. Before COVID I had a small water bottle for going out; by the time I'd sipped it dry I could usually find a place ot refill it. Now, I could down that thing in three gulps, and was instead bringing a full liter everywhere I went. I'd have to refill that as well. I assumed that my wholesome new drinking habit was the driver of the weight loss. 

I had to have pants taken in and shirts re-tailored. I bought a belt. Even my shoes fit a little looser. From July to November, I lost a dress size. By January, it was a size and a half. As of now, it might be two.

I won't lie: it felt great. I didn't have any other issues or symptoms, so I just kept on assuming it was all that water. It's no secret that I'm -- what are we calling it these days? Curvy? -- and it was thrilling to be dropping pounds. Who wouldn't want that, especially with very little effort? 

Most cultures these days seem to be weight-conscious. People will say it's about health but it's really not. It's straight-up "NO FATTIES" judgmentalism. If you're fat and healthy that's still insufficient. If you're thin and sick, you should handle that, but it's ultimately better than being fat. There are people who will argue with the idea that this is totally fucked up, and that's fucked up too. 

Taiwan is no different. Taiwanese society's obsession with weight isn't even unique: you'll find pills and horrible diets and people -- mostly women -- taking on unhealthy habits and getting surgery in every other Asian country and many, if not most, places beyond. Although the country of my birth is somewhat fatter on average, all of these things exist there too. If you needed any evidence that none of it works, there it is: the United States has the juice cleanses, the disgusting powders, the gross teas and the weird contraptions too, and Americans aren't getting any thinner. 

The main difference I've found is that Taiwanese standards for being thin are far stricter: you have to be a stick to even fit into the clothing sizes available. Large-size stores exist, but they don't work for me as I'm too tall for the hemlines and the cuts don't take curves into account.

People (usually women) who are average or even slender have told me that they're regularly called fat. One told me a guy walked away because he believed he should be able to wrap his hands around her waist and have his fingers touch, which is some eating-disorder level bullshit.  I've heard far too many people commenting on weight as though it's a moral failing in an infuriatingly matter-of-fact way, and include people who are simply not fat in that definition (not that it would be any more acceptable if they didn't). 

If you're a foreign woman, it's unlikely that you'll meet these size standards. Even thin Western women I know have said they feel like giants here. Trust me, it's even harder when you're a Big Foreign Sasquatch. In addition to local messaging, there's a big community of misogynist Western dudes who have the "no fatties!" mindset. Fortunately, they mostly ignore expat women they deem overweight. They don't seem to realize they're handing us a gift.

It's to the point that seeing a doctor can be an exercise in stress, when medical professionals ought to focus on treatment. It felt like being cursed, or hexed: presenting for care, being told to lose weight and possibly receiving substandard care from a doctor who assumed weight loss was the only possible treatment, feeling like trash about it, and avoiding seeking further care. People say being overweight can lead to lower life expectancy, but I wonder if seeking medical treatment less often, and receiving insufficient treatment when one does, might lead to medical conditions spinning out of control that didn't need to be life-threatening in the first place.

Although I don't really want to speak Mandarin when there's a contraption that looks like a wine key stuck up my vagina, I quit one English-speaking OB-GYN and sought out another, because her only suggestion for treating my cystic ovaries was to lose weight. Of course, the cystic ovaries probably contribute to the weight in the first place. 

When I got COVID, I asked for Paxlovid as I was feeling weird in the general heart area, which is generally not considered to be a good thing. I have a family history of heart problems (though as far as I know, I'm fine), but that wasn't enough. The telemedicine doctor said it didn't qualify. So I said "oh, but I'm fat!" and got the drugs: having a likely predisposition to vascular issues was insufficient, but weight was. The doctor also said that heart problems were associated with obesity, and I didn't have it in me to reply my family members with heart issues were not fat, with no exceptions. 

I don't want to single out Taiwan, though. Fat people are treated like crap by society and medical professionals around the world. A doctor in the US whom I saw because I tested positive for tuberculosis exposure (I never developed the disease) exhorted me to lose weight, in college, when I wasn't fat. The main difference is that in the US people will talk about "fatties" (or "fat chicks", because this is mostly aimed at women) in derogatory ways to no-one in particular. In Taiwan they'll be more straightforward about it, but are more likely to say it to your face. 

In Taiwan, my tailor and one doctor congratulated me on my weight loss. Foreign friends said I should get checked out as my water consumption was atypical, others didn't see a concern: drinking that much of a calorie-free substance is a common weight-loss tactic!

Here's the truly unhealthy part: I didn't want this to be a problem. Of course no one does, but specifically I was quite happy to continue slimming down. A tiny voice in the back of my head kept prodding me -- you know they're right. Water or not, my rate of weight loss wasn't normal or healthy. And yet, as much work as I've done to simply love myself and focus on being a person rather than a number on a scale, I wanted to keep losing it. Going to the gym hadn't worked. Eating better never worked either. Why not take this gift being handed to me?

It gets worse: walking around in my slimmer body, I didn't just feel better about myself, I felt healthy. After all, losing weight is healthy, right? Slimmer people are healthier, no?

This was in fact extremely dangerous. I was not healthy. But when society tells you that dropping a size or two is good for you, it's extremely hard to break away and say no, something's wrong.

I visited the US recently, and it took an old college friend to really hammer it home: I needed to see a doctor. Excessive water consumption and unexplained weight loss were the most common symptoms of high blood sugar and diabetes. Even then, thinking back on years in Taiwan being matter-of-factly told I was fat, with insane diets and life-consuming exercise regimes suggested as a "cure", I secretly hoped that I would be able to "keep" the weight loss.

And yes, I did find the anti-fat messaging in Taiwan more damaging. That could just be me: it's easy to ignore Internet chuds in the US screeching about "fat chicks", usually with some assumption that said fat chicks would be single forever. Who cares? I'm not single!

It's harder to not let oneself be affected by a straight-up proclamation that you are fat and that is bad. The advertising affected me more too. It's harmful enough that the US has re-vamped all its weight-loss marketing as "wellness" or "health" (I'm sorry but nasty drinks and no food are not healthy, period). In Taiwan, well, you are fat and that is bad.

For someone who's worked hard to break free of mindsets like these, it really shows how deeply this societal messaging runs, and how damaging it can be. I came very close to not seeking care because I thought of weight loss as an unequivocal good! 

I should have known better. You know who else lost a lot of weight because she was sick? My mother, just before the cancer came back. She's no longer with us.

I did make an appointment with an endocrinologist after returning to Taiwan. You know what it took to do that? A friend treating my new body as a warning sign rather than something to be congratulated. I should not have needed that hard a push. I also massively cut down my sugar intake and reduced my carbohydrate intake, although it's hard to sustain that with no clear diagnosis. It was especially hard as my first week doing this was in Mexico, where the chocolate and the churros are delicious. 

You know what? Even then, I fretted about it the day before and morning of, simply because I wasn't in a good mental place to be told yet again that I am fat and that is bad, with the implied message that I'm a moral failure, or lazy, or a bad person because I am fat, which is what I suspect a lot of people truly believe. 

Nobody should have to feel that way when doing something as normal as going to the doctor. Everybody, in every country, should feel empowered to present for care without judgment. 

This story has no ending, as I'm still waiting for my blood sugar results. I can't imagine I'll be told I'm fine. 

There is one happy conclusion, however: unlike so many doctors before her, the endocrinologist didn't say a word about my weight. I told her I'd had COVID about six months ago, and the symptoms began immediately after. I'd had my blood sugar checked before I got sick, and there was no issue. She pointed out that there is some evidence that COVID can actually cause diabetes in rare cases, so I was right to be spooked. She asked me if I had a family history of diabetes, which I do.

She did not exhort me to exercise or eat less. That's a good thing. There is no overweight person in the world who is unaware of it, who hasn't already been told this, who doesn't know. It's never new information. It's not helpful. 

She did her job: ordered the necessary blood tests and told me how to fast and eat before each one. We'll discuss the results next week. 

I only wish every other doctor in my life had approached it that way.

If I had to offer any general advice, it would be the same for Taiwan as for the US: stop. Just stop. Leave people alone. You don't know their lives, you don't know their health, and the "I'm just concerned about your health" concern trolling is actively harmful -- but you knew that. Treat health issues as health issues in and of themselves, and don't tie moral rectitude or assumptions about health to weight. Every single thing you want to say, everyone already knows, and it does not help. Listen to Maintenance Phase and just...stop. 

Untold Herstory: The brutal film that you must see

Imagine a Taiwanese crowdfunded film about female prisoners on Green Island making it into Vieshow Cinemas. So central was crowdfunding that donor were thanked at the end (though some had simple nicknames and others cheeky handles like "1450"). 

Although it was reviewed by the Taipei Times, I hadn't heard of Untold Herstory until a very close friend with a connection to the film sent seven free-ticket vouchers.

Imagine, then, that this friend had offered similar vouchers to other people she knew and was rebuffed. "Let the past be the past," they said. Of course, this attitude only protects the villains of history: the same people who call Untold Herstory "the past" which we should "move beyond" probably lose their minds when removing Chiang Kai-shek's statue from Dead Dictator Memorial Hall is discussed. They so often only want to let some history stay in the past. 

The group I went with included people whose families either were touched by the White Terror, or came close to it. They of course have a rather different take on whether The events of Untold Herstory can be considered history at all, seeing as it hasn't even been a century and the party that committed all those atrocities still exists and runs in elections. Chiang Ching-kuo makes an appearance in the film, though they don't show his face presumably because they couldn't find any actor ugly enough to play him. 

His so-called grandson who is Maury Poviching the hell out of that purported family connection might be the mayor of Taipei in a few weeks. 

Is that really ancient history, or is it relevant right now?

***

That's the background. On to the movie. 

The Taipei Times covers the way Untold Herstory pays meticulous detail to language use: people speak in various dialects of Mandarin (you can tell which characters don't speak it natively), Taiwanese, Atayal and Japanese. The guards all spoke Cantonese. As such, the film has both Mandarin and English subtitles, which also make it more accessible to an international audience. If your Mandarin subtitle-reading isn't so hot, catch this movie now: it's one of the rare films of this genre to offer English.

I'm not sure that the prisoners of Green Island would have been allowed to speak that much Taiwanese and Japanese without more severe punishment, but then they also said at the beginning that the inmates were all now numbers, not names. Then they continued to use names, because clearly some rules matter more than others, even back in authoritarian Taiwan.

The plotting and general mood is very Taiwanese. I appreciated the nonlinear scenes which set a certain mood of tension, depression, tragedy and chaos. The opening scenes are slightly disorienting, which does a good job portraying what it likely felt to have your world torn asunder as you land on Green Island for a stint in prison.

The overall effect is one of an agglomeration of memories that come together to tell a whole story, but are experienced somewhat out of order, they way you might encounter it in nightmares and PTSD flashbacks. 

Other details lend authenticity: the fact that some of the inmates were indeed refugees from China themselves -- not everyone was from Taiwan, and not everyone was a leftist or home-rule advocate. The authorities running the prison slept with whatever female inmates took their fancy. That the guards were usually but not always cruel. Most people executed were chosen for political reasons, none got a fair trial, and many were hand-picked by Chiang Kai-shek to die.

Upside-down shots from the viewpoint of characters strung up by their legs also imply how justice was absolutely turned on its head: some (though not all) of the characters are actually guilty of the "crimes" they've been sent to Green Island for. The problem is, in any free country they would not be crimes at all. These "crimes" include being a member of a socialist organization, passing newspaper clippings to one another, and merely thinking Taiwan might be better off as an independent state. That they were crimes as defined by a monstrous government only means that justice had been turned asunder. Those that recognized this and suffered mental breakdowns over it were called "crazy". But of course, they were right.

Untold Herstory isn't exactly subtle on the imagery, but I didn't mind that. Every time some KMT officer was unusually cruel or hypocritical, an ROC flag, a picture of Sun Yat-sen or Chiang Kai-shek was prominently displayed in the frame. The music drove home the point. Sone lines -- "I'm not a Communist bandit, I'm just a Taiwanese ox!", "You are a spy if the Commander says you are a spy!" and the double-edged "how can a flag be just a rag?" were heartbreaking. 

And speaking of smiling in the photograph taken of you just before your execution as a form of rebellion? Well, that just broke me. It broke me. This did, too.

The scene at the end is all the more heartbreaking for being out of context and highly metaphorical: I won't spoil it, but someone in our group recognized scenes like these as a trope borrowed from Japanese films.

It was difficult to make Untold Herstory, and friends pointed out that it probably wouldn't have been made at all even 20 years ago. This was not just because society was perhaps not ready for it, but because the real women who lived these experiences did not want to talk about them, with reasonable justification. It's never easy to talk about that kind of pain.

This is why films like Untold Herstory and the book it's based on do need to be discussed in the present. They exist in living memory. They still affect society. And, after all, only those who want to protect the truly guilty -- the people who committed the White Terror which saw these women and so many others tortured and killed -- seem to think it should be "left in the past". 

They are wrong, so prove them wrong. Go see Untold Herstory. Learn about exactly what the KMT did in Taiwan, and why justice was never served, as those criminals were never truly punished for what they did to the people they imprisoned, both Taiwanese and Chinese. That those perpetrators of crimes against humanity -- and now their sons and grandsons, or "grandsons" -- are even still a political party disgusts me. The DPP needs meaningful opposition, but it shouldn't be a gaggle of mass murderers and their descendents.

Then get a drink afterward, because I promise you will not want to go directly home and stew in your thoughts.