When talking about Taiwanese literature, it's usually imagined as a more ideologically free space, compared to Mainland literature. That impression and the literature written during the Cold War were the result of the US Information Service's own ideological project in East Asia.
The concept of a "U.S. aid literary institution" 美援文艺体制 comes from Chien-Chung Chen 陈建忠, who contrasted it with the national arts and culture institution 国家文艺体制—both pushed an anticommunist message, but the American institution was a soft system 软性体制...
...developing Taiwanese literature in a direction that would allow it to match up with the world view and esthetic point of view of the United States, breaking the author's connection to society, turning it into pure esthetics.
Wang Mei-hsiang 王梅香 compares PRC/Soviet cultural relations and the power of the U.S. aid literary institution in Taiwan. Local literary and academic circles were cut off from dissenting ideology and literature, with only works approved by the USIS allowed to come and go.
In Taiwan, revelations about—or controversy around—American funding for literary magazines and promotion of literary modernism was slow to emerge. Chen Fangming 陈芳明 in a 2011 speech said: if only we had known where Pai Hsien-yung got the money for Modern Literature 现代文学!
It was funded by USIS with a goal to systematically promote Western literature ("...有系统地翻译介绍西方近代艺术学派和潮流,批评和思想...") with the idea that older forms were no longer relevant ("我们感于旧有的艺术形式和风格不足以表现我们作为现代人的艺术情感").
The editors and writers involved came out of the woodwork to say claims of USIS funding were misleading or false. The idea that their writing was influenced by politics was offensive. In a way, that—to separate art and politics—was exactly the goal of the entire project.
Off the topic, but it's included in the clipped sections above... In Hong Kong, Wang Mei-hsiang says, the situation was different. Maybe they were more genuinely anticommunist or just hungrier. But that's how you get USIS-HK planning books for Eileen Chang to write.
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
This is mostly an excuse to look around Yinchuan on Baidu's street view. I read about mosque architecture Sinicization, then spent an hour or so looking at Yinchuan mosques. I have no conclusions. Some of the pictures are interesting. This is the Xinhua Mosque 新华清真寺...
From memory, it was built in the early '50s by a local entrepreneur, fell into disrepair, and was renovated into the more international style above sometime in the '90s. Two years ago, it was restored to what you see below. They switched handset sponsors, too.
This is a view of the Nanguan Mosque 南关清真寺. It was rebuilt mostly from scratch in 1982, the original structure having been heavily damaged in the 1960s. I've never come across a clear explanation of why Yihewani mosques tend toward more international architecture...
No sex work under communism: by 1951, all the brothels were closed and the workers sent to be rehabilitated and retrained. Love in the Wasteland 遗落荒原的爱 (1994) is about some of those women, made at a time when market reforms and social chaos had revived the profession.
In the '50s, a group of women liberated from brothels has arrived under assumed names at a reclamation settlement in the Northeast. One of the agricultural workers named Ji Gang 纪刚 (Chen Xiguang 陈希光) falls in love with one of the women, Wen Xiu 文秀 (Song Jia 宋佳).
One of the other women is unlucky enough to run into a former client, who recognizes her. Wen Xiu is also exposed. She's already pregnant with Ji Gang's child, but he rejects her. She ends up marrying the mute Wu Qi 吴起 (Li Xinmin 李心敏), who dies soon after.
Guan Hu's 管虎 Dirt 头发乱了 (1994) was made possible by hundred grand from a trading company attached to a state-owned chemical manufacturer, eighteen grand of which was paid to an obscure state studio to claim the film—but it was still held up for over a year before release.
Yingjin Zhang gives us the financing story in "Rebel without a Cause? China's New Urban Generation and Postsocialist Filmmaking." Compared to earlier films like, say, Rock Kids 摇滚青年 (1988), which celebrated within the boundaries, this was an attempt at a countercultural film.
Unlike Beijing Bastards 北京杂种 (1993), it's not a celebration of provocation, but a sad, nostalgic film. A young woman (Kong Lin孔琳) returns to Beijing after leaving for Guangzhou as a kid, reuniting with her old friends: one a rock musician (Geng Le 耿乐), the other a cop.
Comfort Women Unit 74 慰安妇七十四分队 (1994) (Douban suggests "Prostitute 74th Branch") is not a well-known movie. I wonder why a Russian man has chosen to produce a deadpan amateur dub. But it's still interesting...
The only alternative is a degraded Youku clip. An interesting film, which I expected might be like Doomsday Killer 末日杀手 (1993) (campy guizisploitation) or Death Camp Escape 冲出死亡营 (1993) (a dark, critical look at human nature, coincidentally set during the war).
This is very slightly more ideologically and spiritually sound, with the message of feminine solidarity undercut only slightly by the very 1990s scenes that invite the viewer to ogle the comfort women.
When I saw Lou Ye's 娄烨 Don't Be Young 危情少女 (1994?) was a horror film available with English subtitles, I moved it down the list until I could watch it with my girlfriend. I wouldn't subject her to Summer Palace 颐和园 and I couldn't sit through it again—but this is better.
Qu Ying 瞿颖 (we just saw her in Flying Centipede 飞天蜈蚣 from the same year) is a mental patient in love with a doctor (You Yong 尤勇), who is himself being lusted after by a nurse (Nai An 耐安). In her dream, her mother that killed herself reveals the location of a map.
There's a side story about the murder of a doctor, a cover up by a nurse, and a blackmail attempt, but most of the film is taken up by Qu Ying's character trying to figure out why her mother killed herself, and where her father is. You know I'm bad at recounting plots.
Leftist fantasists are good with critiques of the Western media and intelligence but struggle to lay out actual facts. A history of Xinjiang that starts on June 4th, 1989 and skips quickly to September 11th, 2001 makes it very hard to come to an understanding of the region.
Take 1979 as the start date, and there are attempts to reestablish central control combined with protests for ethnic self-determination, most notably in 1985 and 1988. The inciting incident for protests in May of 1989 was a book—Sexual Customs 性风俗—seen as insulting Islam.
Though the '80s, the local secular elite was pushed to get family planning on track. Han population was dropping. And Han in-migration and divisive agricultural policies were seen as possible solution to underdevelopment in the Tarim Basin, which was seen as a cause of unrest.