Table Of Contentrepresenting atrocity in taiwan
global chinese culture
global chinese culture
David Der-wei Wang, Editor
michael berry
Speaking in Images: Interviews with Contemporary Chinese Filmmakers
Representing Atrocity in Taiwan
the 2/28 incident and white terror in fiction and film
Sylvia Li-chun Lin
columbia university press new york
Columbia University Press wishes to express its appreciation
for assistance given by the Chiang Ching-kuo Foundation
for International Scholarly Exchange and Council for Cultural
Affairs in the publication of this series.
Columbia University Press wishes to express its appreciation for assistance
given by the University of Notre Dame toward the cost of publishing
this book.
Columbia University Press
Publishers Since 1893
New York Chichester, West Sussex
Copyright © 2007 Columbia University Press
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lin, Sylvia Li-chun.
Representing atrocity in Taiwan : the 2/28 incident and white terror
in fction and flm / Sylvia Li-chun Lin.
p. cm. — (Global Chinese culture)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
isbn 978-0-231-14360-8 (cloth : alk. paper)
isbn 978-0-231-51281-7 (electronic)
1. Taiwan—History—February Twenty Eighth Incident, 1947.
2. Taiwan—History—1945–
I. Title. II. Title: 2/28 incident and white terror in fction and flm.
III. Series.
DS799.823.L57 2007
951.24'905—dc22 2007023259
Columbia University Press books are printed on permanent
and durable acid-free paper.
Printed in the United States of America
Designed by Audrey Smith
c 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Howard—L. I. G.
contents
Acknowledgments ix
Note on Chinese Words and Names xiii
Prologue: Looking Backward 1
part i. literary representation 15
1. Ethnicity and Atrocity 19
2. Documenting the Past 47
3. Engendering Victimhood 73
part ii. cinematic re-creation 97
4. Past Versus Present 101
5. Screening Atrocity 128
6. Memory as Redemption 154
Epilogue: Looking Forward 173
Notes 183
Bibliography 215
Index 235
acknowledgments
“my mother went to the market on the morning of
2/28. She returned with an empty basket and told us she’d seen many
bodies on the street.” That is my frst “memory” of the 2/28 Incident,
as related by one of my sisters-in-law. I can still picture the frightened
look on her face, but what strikes me most now, thirty years later, is
how she abruptly stopped, after a stern look from my mother. I didn’t
know then what 2/28 was, but I didn’t dare ask, having sensed a deep-
rooted fear in them. The fear was contagious, and I never did ask her.
There was a dirty-looking man begging at the market, the sight
of whom always threw a fright into me. Crippled, he dragged himself
along on useless legs in tattered pants. He seemed to be nearly blind, for
he looked at people with a blank stare; I was just tall enough to meet
his hollow eyes. Everyone in town was kind to him. I later learned
that he’d once complained loudly about the taxes he had to pay. He
soon disappeared, reappearing in the marketplace three months later,
having lost his mind along with his mobility under brutal treatment
by the Garrison Command, which suspected him of acting as a Com-
munist spy.
This book grew out of personal memories of living in Taiwan under
martial law, but also out of a scholarly impetus to examine this page
of Taiwanese history. The research and writing have been supported
by various organizations, the most generous of which has been my
home institution: a start-up research fund and a library account when
acknowledgments
I was hired at Notre Dame paved the way for acquiring indispensable
books and flms; a faculty research grant further helped augment my
collection of research material, with the hiring of a research assistant
in Taiwan during the SARS scare, when travel to Asia was inadvis-
able; a summer stipend and salary recovery during my year of leave
provided me with the time to write; fnally, a publication subvention
from the Institute for Scholarship in the Liberal Arts helped make this
book available. I truly appreciate the assistance from the University of
Notre Dame. My thanks also to the Chiang Ching-kuo Foundation
for Scholarly Exchange for a junior scholar grant that made it possible
for me to take a year off to write and revise.
Several people read portions of the manuscript at various stages:
Bonnie Adrian kindly lent her expertise on ethnicity by reading the
frst section of chapter 1; Nick Kaldis supplied thoughtful comments
on the prologue, the introduction to part I, and chapters 2 and 5;
Christopher Lupke provided timely and sensible suggestions on chap-
ter 3; and Jeffrey Kinkley sent his insightful comments on the pro-
logue, the introduction to part I, and chapters 1 and 2. I thank Chris
and Nick for their camaraderie and support. To Professor Kinkley goes
my deepest gratitude for his unfailing support since I frst arrived in
the United States for postgraduate work. I also must thank my former
graduate student and dissertation advisee, Heng-hsing Liu, himself
an outstanding scholar. Serving as my research assistant in Taiwan, he
helped collect valuable material and is always on the lookout for the
latest scholarship from Taiwan on my behalf.
Over the years, I have benefted from the friendship and support of
more kind and generous people than it is possible to thank here. A few
must be mentioned, however: William Tay, for his interest in my work,
his generosity toward his friends, and an incredible memory that pro-
vided immediate bibliographic information; Lili Selden, for her effer-
vescent attitude toward life and her unstinting friendship since my frst
visit to the Notre Dame campus; Joyce Wong Kroll and Victoria Cass,
for their love of language and a good read. It is diffcult to express just
how much their friendship and moral support have meant to me.
Jennifer Crewe, of Columbia University Press, always an enthusias-
tic supporter of literature from Taiwan, deserves mention here; with-
out her discerning eye and literary taste, the best Taiwanese fction
would not see the light of day. I also thank my editor at the press, Irene
