Ray Hecht's Blog, page 10

Mao’s Town

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Mao’s Town by Xie Hong is the first English-language novel from Chinese author Xie Hong, and showcases the author’s unique voice in exploring the Revolutionary era of recent Chinese history. Told in short, pointed sentences, Mao’s Town expresses something that only an author who lived through the terrible era could truly understand. Nonetheless, this book gives an excellent introduction to so many horrors of the time–from the hunger pains of the Great Leap Forward to the abusive madness of the Red Guards circa the Cultural Revolution. It was a time that hopefully will never be repeated, but needs to be remembered.

Mao’s Town is told from a childhood point of view, full of memories and written in direct language that always seems appropriate. The central theme is the concept of family as well finding one’s place in a small town which represents the enormous nation of China, and furthermore the narrative explores how the edicts that came down from the dictatorship of Chairman Mao can affect everything for one small boy.

There are the little things that one remembers, details like enjoying food in the early days. Though then the lack of it later when the hardships begin. The protagonist of the story spends his days watching propaganda “Red” films about fighting landlords, celebrates Chinese New Year, and plays with his friends Sun and Ahn as all of the families are eventually torn apart culminating in his brother’s and father’s sagas.

Some of the memories can be very intense, like when a teacher must be chosen as the “rightist” of the school for public punishment. Others seem so innocently naïve, such as when the family gives up their pots and pans out of faith to the Party’s now known horrific steelworks projects. They townspeople kill sparrows, and more, yet never know the full impact even while the path leads to starvation. All the while, the children don’t even know what the word “capitalist” means…

Mao’s Town is a quick read about both Chinese history and about how young minds process tragedy. Recommended for historians of all ages.

Mao’s Town by Xie Hong is published by Whyte Tracks and is available on Amazon.

Impressions upon an Avengers: Infinity War

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Almost goes without saying, massive spoilers herein forewarned.

Do not read ahead unless you’ve already seen.

Upon seeing this ditty little epic film last Wednesday night, I do have more than a few things I desperately need to get off my chest. Here I go, no turning back now.

First, the context. As we all should know by now, Infinity War has officially become the biggest movies of all time and has surpassed The Force Awakens for most profitable opening weekend. I think this is deserved as it’s clearly better. But this is not a Star Wars rant, it’s a Marvel rant.

In anticipation of the cinematic event of a lifetime, my girlfriend and I have spent the past month watching all eighteen of the previous Marvel Cinematic Universe films. Some may be a bit worse than others, but pretty much all are entertaining (indeed, every single one is very funny) and most make you truly grow to truly love these characters. Not to mention my special love superhero comics over my whole life, particularly the Thanos cosmic sagas, and suffice to say I was really looking forward to this film.

Usually, hype is a negative thing and makes the viewing experience worse. But it’s so unavoidable with this one, it’s like an ingrained part of the process. All that has come before is a part of it (as well as what will come). The pressures on this film to succeed are like nothing else ever attempted in cinema.

Now that I’ve seen it and even had a few days to reflect, my main takeaway is still… this is such a strange film. There is nothing else like it. It’s surely incredibly entertaining and fast-paced and action-packed but somehow not bloated and mostly it works. But it’s more like the climax to a sequential prestige television series than it is a film with a traditional three-act structure. In that sense, it’s not a “real movie.”

Like, it’s one thing to have an ensemble cast instead of one protagonist, but this borders on ridiculous. If I may attempt to simplify the storyline: For the most part the Infinity War plot centers on Iron and Thor and the Guardians of the Galaxy, each of whom have overlapping adventures in outer space fighting Thanos and his acolytes. There’s also basically the Secret Avengers, basically led by Nomad, in the D-plot over on Earth as they try to protect the Vision’s mcguffin I mean stone, but that latter plot has the least focus–though it does give us the final Wakanda battle scene so prevalent in the trailers (yes those trailers that disappointingly lied about the Hulk actually being in this story). Don’t get me wrong, it’s still extremely fun to see so many characters interact again however briefly. Even if missing Hawkeye and Ant-Man. The crossover appeal is resoundingly successful.

I must admit it, no other word comes to mind other than awesome. I got serious chills when from the get-go Spider-man is immediately teaming up with Iron Man and Dr. Strange to fight aliens in the middle of New York. That is truly what superheroing should be all about.

Some criticisms are deserved, for example with the women characters which hasn’t always been Marvel Studios best aspect. Black Widow was approvingly badass—almost too strong, perhaps she had a robosuit of some sort—but not very fleshed out considering she’s supposed to be the premier heroine of the franchise. Gamora was the more major female lead, and she should have been in the middle of the poster, though that ultimately got rather women-in-refrigeratory. Then there’s Scarlet Witch, who had to focus on the romance angle with her will-she-won’t-she destroy her boyfriend inner conflict, which shouldn’t have been so conflicting considering the fate of the universe. If only Wasp could have made it in by now. We shall see how it goes with Captain Marvel soon enough.

On this I know no one else will care, but the science fiction made no sense whatsoever. Not even a passing mention of universal translators or scanning the atmosphere before disembarking. Everyone speaks English, every planet has breathable air, and in particular the scale of the weird mechanical star where Peter Dinklage lived really wasn’t clear. I wouldn’t have minded a little zero gravity and wormholes. At least make it more of a big deal for so many humans to realize that they’re talking to aliens for the first time. But of course all that is forgiven; it’s a space opera but a fantastical one and it just kinda works for the tone of it all. (And I said it before and I’ll say it again, the Guardians of the Galaxy world is now better than Star Wars’…)

Don’t get me wrong, still gotta love Infinity War. Yet above all, and you knew this was coming, it is the ending that really throws one off! Let’s just say it: Thanos won. He completed his Infinity Gauntlet set, and snapped his fingers at the last possible moment and half of the universe apparently disappeared. It is a profoundly strange ending, one that I didn’t see coming. Even in the comics source material, all resolved within its own mini-series, half the universe disappeared in the first issue and nobody ever expected such deaths to have staying power whether on a cliffhanger or not.

Watching the film with my girlfriend, who certainly enjoys the movies but is not quite the fanboy that I am, gave me an interesting perspective. She had her heart broken when Black Panther and so many others faded into ash. It left her with a great feeling of betrayal, after investing so much, and even though I reassured her that all those who have sequels in development will obviously come back to life—funny how the production backstory can’t be escaped right, again this movie can never just stand on its own—I still can’t deny that it’s such a downer of an ending. Plus note the non-Gauntlet deaths will likely stay dead. It is fair to ask, how will mainstream audiences take this?

Storytelling-wise, I’ve since realized it only makes sense when you realize that Thanos is the actual protagonist. I guess thinking of it that way leaves some sense closure. Honestly though, it’s not an indie tragedy about a true story or something like that, it’s supposed to be superhero genre. Can they really sell such a movie to millions of movie fans? And, am I going to be able to watch this movie again and again now that I know? The answer turns out to be yes.

Marvel sure takes risks, that’s for sure. Personally, it’s been great but I simply can’t get over how surreal it was to see the bad guy win in a hundred-million dollar Hollywood blockbuster. Like they were just trolling the audience, fucking with us all. I can’t really be living in a world where big budget movies break that many rules, can I? Frankly, it eerily reminded me of the infamous election night. I eternally feel like I’m in an alternate reality.

An allegory I came up with that sums it up best, albeit this is crass, is that the experience of watching Infinity War is like having an incredible sexual fantasy come true. Supermodel orgy level fantasy, the best ever that you never thought would come true. But then… you don’t cum in the end. So, overwhelmingly  great as the ride was, if there’s no ending than what’s the point? Why do it at all? And thus, left with epic blue balls.

It’s going to be a long year waiting for this story to be resolved. And in the meantime, although there’s a couple of film in-between, that’s even more for the next iteration to live up to. It better be good. 

Well, the next one is apparently going to incorporate time travel. A genre not yet explored, I approve. I also predict that it will be called Avengers Forever and will feature Kang. I certainly hope so. Do remember the part when Dr. Strange meditated on millions of possible futures, and said “it was the only way,” that’s key… Also, maybe everyone is in the soul stone, like Adam Warlock was in the comic (Gamora?). It’s so fun to guess! For a whole year!

Above all, I hope the untitled Avengers 4 big finale will be epic, break new records, engorgingly feed my inner child, and also somehow complete this incredible barely-probable story in a satisfying way that makes all the fans and critics and geeks happy.

Pressure much, Marvel?

more not chinglish

So here are some funny English-language things I’ve seen, that are not Chinglish strictly speaking. It’s just not as easy to find in Taiwan but I hope they’re still enjoyable:

 

First, this sex toy egg spotted around Shilin market. I did buy the cheapest 100 NT one, which was just some cheap jewelry, but I can’t help wondering what other masturbegg products there could be…

 

Next up, at the Urban Nomad music festival in Taipei. a fellow wore this T-shirt and was kind enough to let me photography him. It wasn’t one of those silly T-shirts that people wear without knowing what it means, he was fully into the message. And an important peaceful message it is these days, seriously.

 

 

While I’m at it, here are some photos and a video of the music festival because why not!

Taipei Times – Book review: Haunted hotels, typing dogs and the expat experience

http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/feat/archives/2018/04/12/2003691146

Taiwan Tales Volume Two, by Taipei Writers Group

Taiwanese ghosts abound in the second edition of ‘Taiwan Tales’ by the Taipei Writers Group, but the writers don’t stop there, digging deep into the nuances and fine details of life in Taiwan 






By Han Cheung  /  Staff Reporter

One might expect a collection of short stories written by expats in Taiwan to largely tell of the experiences of, well, expats in Taiwan, but the first three stories of Taiwan Tales Volume Two feature a Taiwanese businesswoman, a well-read and verbose red poodle (a popular breed) and a shy Taiwanese old computer game shop vendor in the underground malls of Taipei Main Station. 

Such a book wouldn’t be as rich, however, if it there were no foreigners involved at all — after all, they have unique experiences that are usually not featured in mainstream Taiwanese media or literature. Out of the seven stories, three of them speak from the quintessential “expat experience” in Taiwan, making this collection a bit more rounded given that the majority of writers hail from the US.

Representation is always tricky with anthologies like these because there’s always something to nitpick, but it’s understandable that there’s not a large pool of English fiction writers living in Taiwan to solicit quality stories from. For what this book is, it’s an enjoyable and well-edited read that anyone who has spent significant time in Taiwan can identify with and chuckle at the “only in Taiwan” references sprinkled throughout the book.

From the very first story, Room 602 by Pat Woods, it’s clear that the authors are deliberately writing from a Taiwanese perspective, or at least consciously featuring local nuances and elements that only someone who has lived here for a while will catch. Woods speaks of the freezing air conditioning that makes you bring a coat to work in the sweltering summer, the feel of shame, or “losing face,” after losing one’s cool in a public setting and giving very specific details, such as exact dates, when speaking to ghosts.

The plot for Woods’ story follows a pretty standard ghost story formula, but it is perhaps the most ambitious out of this collection, as he tries to write from the first-person perspective of a Taiwanese woman — and pulls it off fairly well. This is what makes the stories fun to read. While they are all well-crafted and the prose is lively and well-edited, the creative use of Taiwanese elements is what sets them apart.

In the same vein, the second tale, Mark Will’s Notes From the Underfoot, written from the perspective of a slightly snobby but very well-read and pensive toy poodle, is a rambling monologue that hits many points spot on to the Taiwanese dog experience — from the practice of dressing one’s canine in baby clothes and wheeling it around in a stroller to people who abandon dogs after they stop being cute.

Will also comments on Taiwanese politics through the dog’s perspective — Lulu the corgi feels that it’s linguistically oppressive to refer to Taiwan as “Formosa,” while Baobao the poodle is fine with the term but not okay with “Chinese Taipei.”

The remainder of the book is just as entertaining, including a trippy ghost adventure, an urban fantasy that features all kinds of strange creatures from the folklore of various countries, and a hilarious account of an obsessive expat on Tinder, hoping for a last hurrah before he leaves Taiwan while things go completely awry.

Taiwanese (and other Asian) folk religion and beliefs, especially the belief in evil spirits, feature prominently in the book, since, after all, that’s the most easily recognizable element of Taiwanese culture that completely differs from Western beliefs. But that’s just scratching the surface, and the writers do a good job in digging deeper.

As a result of this fascination with the occult, only three of the tales are completely rooted in reality. These provide the reader with temporary relief (otherwise the would have to be called “Taiwan Ghost Tales”), from Taipei Underground’s sketch of an ordinary man looking for love while working for his demanding cousin, to an unexpected friendship between two expat English teachers running away from their origins and eventually facing their demons.

Also worth looking at is the vastly different “expat experience” between male and female Western residents of Taipei. The two female writers almost exclusively focus on expat characters in their stories, as Bob, the Unfriendly Ghost vs The Mother Plant by Laurel Bucholz features an expat teacher and the only Taiwanese characters are the children she teaches (who discuss with her how to get rid of the unfriendly ghost).

There is, of course, a reason for this. The Western female role is made clear in the beginning of the story, when the author writes that “white girls in Asia, living in obscure towns, get very little love. They are bottom of the list for the pickings,” and the protagonist is companionless until she returns to the US to snag a guy to bring back to Taiwan. As a result they are less integrated into Taiwanese society, whereas the men tend to date and marry local woman.

While this is largely a stereotype of female expats in Asia, stereotypes are based on truths, and again it’s a good thing that the author doesn’t shy away from tackling the issue directly. It only paints a more complete picture of expat life in Taiwan, and makes this book a more complete anthology.

Asian Review of Books – “Taiwan Tales Volume 2: An Anthology” from the Taiwan Writers Group

http://asianreviewofbooks.com/content/taiwan-tales-volume-2-an-anthology-from-the-taiwan-writers-group

 

There aren’t that many English-language books about Taiwan, especially fiction. This is a pity because despite being wedged between much larger neighbors such as China, Japan and the Philippines, there is a lot to Taiwan that often gets overlooked. There are many good stories that are still waiting to be told and the Taiwan Writers Group, a collective of local and expat writers, tries to tell a few in their latest collection.

This second volume of Taiwan Tales is compact, but its seven short stories are diverse, ranging from ghost stories to mystery. As the writers are all expats, most of the stories feature expats as protagonists. This obviously presents mostly an outsider’s view, but their fondness for and knowledge of Taiwan is evident in their descriptions of contemporary Taiwan life and culture. But there are also local protagonists, including that is an animal.

In what might be the story with the most Taiwanese twist, “Room 602” by Pat Woods sees a local woman face unusual problems in her hotel room during a business trip in Kaohsiung, falling back on childhood memories involving superstition and the appeasing of ghosts.

Mark Will’s “Notes from Underfoot” is an amusing story of Taipei life from a dog’s perspective. Baobao, a literate poodle owned by an expat and his local girlfriend, provides a witty narrative that includes cross-strait politics, the frequent neglect of pet dogs by Taiwanese, and buxibans or local tutoring centers for students. In Laurel Bucholz’s “Bob the Unfriendly Ghost vs The Mother Plant”, an expat finds herself under assault from a tormented ghost in her apartment right after taking Ayahuasca, a medicinal herb from South America. The combination of local superstition and hallucinatory visions from the herb produces a potent tale.In what might be the story with the most Taiwanese twist, “Room 602” by Pat Woods sees a local woman face unusual problems in her hotel room during a business trip in Kaohsiung, falling back on childhood memories involving superstition and the appeasing of ghosts.

JJ Goodwin’s “Underground” takes readers on a wild ride through an underground universe populated with deities and creatures from Taiwanese and other Asian folklore. This Taiwanese Odyssey features an unsuspecting hero who must complete quests and brave dangerous creatures to find his way back to the real world. Connor Bixby’s “A Completely Normal Male Expat”, the most humorous story in the collection, pokes fun at a stereotypical randy male expat while also parodying online dating. The story sees an American expat who becomes fixated on a local Tinder match, only to become increasingly neurotic as things go awry with the ensuing date.

Ray Hecht’s “The Taipei Underground” features a blossoming romance between two Taiwanese youngsters working in an underground electronics goods arcade in Taipei. It is a good take on work and social anxieties faced by young Taiwanese, in a setting that might not be well-known but is one of Taipei’s many distinctive facets.

Last but certainly not least, “Onus” by Ellyna Ford Phelps is an intriguing story about two female English teachers who form a close bond, but whose backgrounds suggest mysterious, tragic pasts. The story takes a dark turn midway but it blends expat friendship tale and mystery thriller in a poignant and suspenseful way that works very well.

It is no coincidence that there are two stories in the collection that feature ghosts, for  Taiwanese society has a strong superstitious nature due to the influence of traditional religion. Ghosts do feature regularly in modern Taiwanese life. For example, “Ghost Month” in the lunar calendar is widely observed by many Taiwanese who worship the ghosts of their ancestors by burning paper in urns outside their homes or businesses.

The anthology is a good reflection of Taiwan: small, calm on the surface but belying a fascinating, quirky, and pulsating character.

Hilton Yip is a writer currently based in Hong Kong and former book editor of Taiwan’s The China Post.

“Taiwan Tales Volume 2: An Anthology” from the Taiwan Writers Group

http://asianreviewofbooks.com/content/taiwan-tales-volume-2-an-anthology-from-the-taiwan-writers-group

 

There aren’t that many English-language books about Taiwan, especially fiction. This is a pity because despite being wedged between much larger neighbors such as China, Japan and the Philippines, there is a lot to Taiwan that often gets overlooked. There are many good stories that are still waiting to be told and the Taiwan Writers Group, a collective of local and expat writers, tries to tell a few in their latest collection.

This second volume of Taiwan Tales is compact, but its seven short stories are diverse, ranging from ghost stories to mystery. As the writers are all expats, most of the stories feature expats as protagonists. This obviously presents mostly an outsider’s view, but their fondness for and knowledge of Taiwan is evident in their descriptions of contemporary Taiwan life and culture. But there are also local protagonists, including that is an animal.

In what might be the story with the most Taiwanese twist, “Room 602” by Pat Woods sees a local woman face unusual problems in her hotel room during a business trip in Kaohsiung, falling back on childhood memories involving superstition and the appeasing of ghosts.

Mark Will’s “Notes from Underfoot” is an amusing story of Taipei life from a dog’s perspective. Baobao, a literate poodle owned by an expat and his local girlfriend, provides a witty narrative that includes cross-strait politics, the frequent neglect of pet dogs by Taiwanese, and buxibans or local tutoring centers for students. In Laurel Bucholz’s “Bob the Unfriendly Ghost vs The Mother Plant”, an expat finds herself under assault from a tormented ghost in her apartment right after taking Ayahuasca, a medicinal herb from South America. The combination of local superstition and hallucinatory visions from the herb produces a potent tale.In what might be the story with the most Taiwanese twist, “Room 602” by Pat Woods sees a local woman face unusual problems in her hotel room during a business trip in Kaohsiung, falling back on childhood memories involving superstition and the appeasing of ghosts.

JJ Goodwin’s “Underground” takes readers on a wild ride through an underground universe populated with deities and creatures from Taiwanese and other Asian folklore. This Taiwanese Odyssey features an unsuspecting hero who must complete quests and brave dangerous creatures to find his way back to the real world. Connor Bixby’s “A Completely Normal Male Expat”, the most humorous story in the collection, pokes fun at a stereotypical randy male expat while also parodying online dating. The story sees an American expat who becomes fixated on a local Tinder match, only to become increasingly neurotic as things go awry with the ensuing date.

Ray Hecht’s “The Taipei Underground” features a blossoming romance between two Taiwanese youngsters working in an underground electronics goods arcade in Taipei. It is a good take on work and social anxieties faced by young Taiwanese, in a setting that might not be well-known but is one of Taipei’s many distinctive facets.

Last but certainly not least, “Onus” by Ellyna Ford Phelps is an intriguing story about two female English teachers who form a close bond, but whose backgrounds suggest mysterious, tragic pasts. The story takes a dark turn midway but it blends expat friendship tale and mystery thriller in a poignant and suspenseful way that works very well.

It is no coincidence that there are two stories in the collection that feature ghosts, for  Taiwanese society has a strong superstitious nature due to the influence of traditional religion. Ghosts do feature regularly in modern Taiwanese life. For example, “Ghost Month” in the lunar calendar is widely observed by many Taiwanese who worship the ghosts of their ancestors by burning paper in urns outside their homes or businesses.

The anthology is a good reflection of Taiwan: small, calm on the surface but belying a fascinating, quirky, and pulsating character.

Hilton Yip is a writer currently based in Hong Kong and former book editor of Taiwan’s The China Post.

Causal Gamer 3: Wii U

As I’ve sporadically shared from time to time, I am something of a casual gamer (rather, a retro gamer), and I am mainly a Nintendo man.

This is partly due to it being a nostalgic holdover from childhood, partly because I don’t have enough free time to further embrace the wider gaming world, and also possibly a  genuine love of the innocent fun of hopping and bopping about with Mario and friends.

Yeah, maybe it’s mostly the nostalgia as much as anything but nothing wrong with that.

Since my last post, I got not only the mini NES classic but also the mini Super NES classic which has been that much exponentially better. I immediately played Super Mario World for the nth time all the way to the Special Zone, plus Yoshi’s Island and Mario Kart and so many others.

Actual serious gaming consisted of the classic RPG Secret of Mana which I have now officially beat (again).

 

Next on the list is finishing up Mario RPG, almost done, and then I may put this away for a little while.

Not to mention on my 3DS I’ve been enjoying Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga, which happens to be a spiritual sequel to the original Mario RPG. Those games are always very very fun.

 

But in fact this post is not about that, this post is about my new Wii U!

 

See, it was recently my birthday and I received the greatest gift a boy could ask for… And yes I know, I am still behind the times. I’ll get a Switch next year or so. Mario Odyssey is supposed to be a masterpiece and everything, but I’ll be patient and wait. Generally, I seem to be one generation behind and I am okay with that.

I had a Wii for a while in a previous era and it was great fun, but I sold it last time I moved. I’ve been waiting patiently to upgrade and catch up. Nothing like playing Mario Party with friends.

The Wii U came with Nintendo Land which is cool, but I have much more to do. It’s a particularly good system in that I can also purchase older games to download from the Nintendo archives, and those classic ones aren’t expensive at all.

Mario Party 2 from the Nintendo 64 for example is high on the list:

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However, am I too focused on Nintendo? One game I absolutely must geek out on is Lego Marvel. To be honest, Lego Marvel 2 is the top game I want to play when I do eventually get a Switch. I adore those Lego games, and I played lot of the 3DS. All the Batman DC Super Heroes, Lego Avengers, Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Sadly, Lego Marvel for the 3DS was the weakest transition to a handheld console, and so I must redeem it by finally playing the real one.

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Ah, who am I kidding? Legos and super-heroes are great, but I’m mostly in it for the Mario.

The totally absolute number one game I have been extremely waiting to play is Super Mario 3D World. The first smaller Mario 3D Land for was one of the funnest experiences I have ever had. The perfect blend of old school aesthetic and multi-dimensionally jumping around. There’s a lot on my growing list, but this is the very next one I intend to get. And once I do, I may not go outdoors for a little while…

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This is my plan.

What do you think? Any other recommended games I should get soon? There’s the side-scrolling New Mario Bros U, there’s Mario Kart 2 and/or Mario Kart 8. Sadly, please note that I am not very good at Zelda games.

So, tell me what should be next!

South Africa, the video

Video of my trip to South Africa last month, from Soweto to Cape Town. Featuring Two Oceans Aquarium, kite-surfing, penguins, lots of ducks, and I even drive…!

Taiwan Tales 2 free promotion!

Taiwan Tales Volume Two is free to download for the Kindle app on Amazon, for this week only! Get yours today to read my short story “The Taipei Underground” – a tale of two souls trying to figure out love beneath the shady caverns of the city – as well as many other excellent works by talented Taipei-based authors.

T he stories include a mix of genres, from high fantasy with mythical beasts to ghost stories, and even one from the point of view of a small dog! 

From TWG Press:

 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Taiwan-Tales-Anthology-Connor-Bixby-ebook/dp/B078XPDQDM

 

“Room 602” by Pat Woods, a Taiwanese ghost story inspired by an unusual local superstition about knocking on hotel doors.

“Notes from Underfoot” by Mark Will, a humorous and erudite story that gives a dog’s-eye-view of life in Taipei.

“The Taipei Underground” by Ray Hecht, a glimpse of the lives of two young people in Taipei Main Station’s cavernous underground.

“Bob the Unfriendly Ghost vs. The Mother Planet” by Laurel Bucholz, dealing a sometimes funny, sometimes terrifying experience of local spirits and Ayahuasca.

“Underworld” by J.J Goodwin, an epic odyssey through a strange world beneath Taipei where local and foreign mythology is alive and kicking.

“A Completely Normal Male Expat” by Connor Bixby, which, in the author’s own brand of neurotic fiction, checks out communication and the dating game in Taipei.

“Onus” by Ellyna Ford Phelps, a story of friendship, dark pasts, and goodbyes as two expats share an all-too-brief connection.

Taiwan Tales: The Taipei Underground

Excerpt from the short story collection Taiwan Tales Volume Two, now available on Amazon:

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The Taipei Underground

by Ray Hecht

 

Jerry Lee, also known as Li Shi-huang or merely Xiao Shi to his friends, stared across the cash register station to gaze longingly at the cute girl at the shop across the hallway. She had short hair, glasses, a well-fitting T-shirt. As she carefully stocked a shelf, for a split-second their lines of sight crossed over.

Suddenly, Jerry turned away and looked at a passerby eating a sausage, all the while exaggerating the movement of his neck as he pretended that was what he was looking at all along. He immediately regretted the embarrassing instinct, but it was too late and he had no choice but to go along with the ruse.

He continued to gaze rightward, pushing himself to ignore the girl from across the hall, and found himself making a 180-degree U-turn. The motion was interrupted by a shout from his cousin, whom he usually semi-affectionately referred to as Cousin Lee.

“Jerry! Come here.”

He walked to the back of their shop, squeezing between narrow passageways of obsolete computer equipment. The gray plastic was full of dust and wonder, hiding away computer chips decades old. All of it was close to his heart, and he never tired of working in such a magical place.

“Check this out,” Cousin Lee said as he plugged a replica of a 1981 console into a 40-inch widescreen HD monitor. He was tall and gangly, taller and ganglier than even Jerry, but spoke with an obnoxious confidence. Within the confines of these walls, he was in his element. “Pretty cool, right?”

A tune began to ring through the halls, a somehow familiar but simplified melody of an animated television theme song adapted and skewered through the primitive digital ringer of 8-bit glory.

The sounds brought everyone comfort, reminding them of a time before time, that pre-millennial age that was somehow part of their ancestral genetic memory or collective unconscious.

Jerry couldn’t help but bob his head.

The menu screen was in Japanese, a language Jerry knew only vaguely, but he grabbed the controller and played along through sheer muscle memory. Before he knew it, the little trademarked sprite had hopped and bopped its way through three whole levels.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Cousin Lee said to a browsing customer.

Jerry, in the zone, felt distracted and content.

After a quick win, he returned to the register and stole more glances. He couldn’t help wondering about the girl. With no information about her other than that she was new at the workplace, his imagination had many gaps to fill. She’d been there about a month. What had she done before? Where was she from? The boss, was he her father? Uncle?

Why was she here?

The shop across the aisle was a different kind than that of the second-hand computer game variety. It was altogether low tech, specializing in cute toys of plastic and plush. It was located between one model robot dispensary and a knockoff handbag boutique, alongside a deep chasm of specialty stores that stretched infinitely in both directions underneath the streets of the city. Not unlike cave grottos at certain Biblical archeological sites, each one carved its own unique religious iconography onto the walls of the contemporary cultural landscape.

Several hours later, Jerry was ordered to close up shop. He counted the cash, put aside receipts, and jotted down inventory.

“Make sure you go to the bank in the morning,” his cousin said and then zipped up the cash bag tight.

“I know.”

“Good.” As they lowered the railing to lock up the family business, both saw the shop across the aisle doing the same.

“I hate that shop,” Cousin Lee said, spitting fire and saliva. “Ever since they opened, they do all they can to steal our customers. Those video game toys, all the same characters I advertise. I spend the marketing money, and they try to reap the benefits.”

“Yeah,” Jerry muttered.

“Do they think I’m stupid? What a shame. Nobody wants to buy the originals anymore; people just steal everything online and then only buy some cheap dolls.”

“It is a shame,” Jerry added in a weak attempt at consolation.

“I know those people just make the toys themselves. I can see them sewing in the back. That’s theft of intellectual property! I ought to report them.”

“But don’t we sell emulator rigs?” Jerry asked, giving the matter some thought. “Like, the software is all downloaded online for free. And then we sell it. Isn’t that basically the same thing?”

“It’s not the same!”

Jerry offered no retort. He simply watched his cousin go in one direction and the girl go in another. If only he could ditch him and find a way to talk to her alone. He sighed slowly as he followed behind, and resigned himself to his fate.

“Xiao Shi,” Cousin Lee said with an air of closure, “I will see you tomorrow. I think I ate something rotten, so I’m going to go to the bathroom in the mall. Don’t wait up.” It was a reasonable request, considering the caliber of restaurants available for dinners in the tunnel.

“Oh. Okay.”

His cousin turned a corner with a slight moan, and disappeared.

With a nervous trot, Jerry made his way to the subway station.

It was a day like any other. He planned to scan his card and wait at the platform of the subway train in order to transfer once over the course of ten stations so that he could arrive at his small apartment in the outer district, and then at last go to sleep and do it all over again tomorrow.

This day, however, was slightly different. A minute before the train was due to arrive, he noticed she happened to be waiting two cars down. All alone, tapping away at her mobile phone. Heart thumping at a reckless pace, he cautiously approached her.

“Um, hello.”

She half-looked up. “Hello?”

“I work across the hall from you.”

“You do?” She tore her eyes away from the phone stuffed it in her purse, and inspected him closely. A flash of recognition abruptly lit up her eyes. “Oh, it’s you. I’ve seen you around. What’s your name?”

“Li Shi-huang. Or, you can call me Jerry.”

“Everyone calls me Sha Sha,” she said. “So, uh, how do you like working in the tunnel?”

“It’s pretty good, I guess. Usually there are a lot of people window-shopping and not enough sales.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Where are you going now?” he asked.

“Home,” she answered, with a bluntness that he regretted hearing.

He didn’t know what to say next. “I hope you have a good night.”

“You too. I’ll see you next time.”

He smiled and was about to turn away, even finding himself on the cusp of formulating an apology for bothering her. But before he could react she interrupted his transition with a: “Hey, do you want to hang out some time?”

“That would be cool,” he blurted out.

“Let me see your phone,” she said.

They each procured their mobile devices, turned to the appropriate application, and she scanned his personalized digital code.

Silently, they both smiled and entered separate trains and waved goodbye.

Nice to meet you, he later texted in bed, along with an accompanying image of a smiling bunny rabbit.

She replied with a blobby wink.

The next day there was much back-and-forth. Instead of glances from across the chasm, the two pairs of eyes stooped downwards as the gravity of a glass screen pulled them all in to a small private world of written letters and animated pets.

I loved this character as a kid, she said, after a link to a humorous GIF of a cartoon pocket-sized monster in fierce battle.

This is my favorite one, he said as they simultaneously livestreamed a showing of a popular action-adventure strategic game.

Look at that!

I love it!!

Awesome!!!

We shall have to get together soon to eat some delicious food and listen to music …

I like strawberry ice cream, but no hamburgers.

Slowly through intermittent conversations they learned more about each other. Dreams, passions, personal histories, dietary restrictions, and various other preferences and peeves.

She learned that he was new to the city after moving the previous year, and he still spent many weekends exploring tourist spots. He learned that she was a part-time student, full of visions of design and creativity and financial independence.

They made plans to meet at a night market—one that he had never been to but had researched and assured her was vegetarian-friendly.

Not to mention, he wrote, the further away the better.

No one said it aloud, nor typed it up, but they both felt relief that there was slim chance of bumping into any family members or mutual acquaintances.

I can ’ t wait to be there with you. Only you.

In person, they ignored each other. Work was one world, and there they had their own separate reality. There was no need to actually speak.

It didn’t need to be spelled out.

The families wouldn’t approve.

They met in secret two weekends in a row, waiting in line at crowded food stalls shrouded in moonlight and then watching movies in dark rooms lit up by vast screens. Never in daylight, never with risk of discovery. In person they kept their words at a minimum, in contrast to the essays written by thumb.

Eventually, the power of skin touching against skin proved to be the most powerful—yet most dangerous—communication of all.

On the third date, Jerry and Sha Sha decided to risk everything by staying at a small love hotel a mere six metro stations away. It was for the most part a natural progression.

In bed, after said communication had completed, Jerry held her in his arms and felt compelled to take a dare by suggesting the logical next step. “You should come to my apartment next time. I’ll cook you some dumplings. It will be great.”

“At your home?”

“I do have to warn you that it’s a bit far, and it’s small,” he joked. “And it’s messy. But I promise I’ll clean up.”

“Well, it sounds nice, that is, but you know I live with my father, and he’s very strict.”

“Just say you’ll be visiting a friend. Or not. Come on, Sha Sha, you are old enough to do whatever you want to do.”

“Don’t pressure me. I mean, I wish I could, but just don’t think I can’t stay the night like that.”

“But, I got a new console and we could play—”

“I can’t!”

“Fine,” Jerry conceded, hopes dashed. “I understand.”

“This is happening too fast. I’m very busy with the afternoon classes and work and I barely have enough time to spend with you already,” she said, her voice shaking and quick.

“I get it. Fine then.”

“To tell you the truth…” she went on, “I don’t even know if this arrangement is really working out for me. I simply don’t know.”

“I said I understand!” Jerry shouted, surprised at his own anger.

She rolled over in the bed, turning away from him, and shut her eyes.

He said nothing.

Soon after, they got dressed and left for home.

The next day, Cousin Lee suggested that Jerry should accompany him on one of his bimonthly trips abroad. He needed new inventory. Jerry agreed.

As a last ditch effort, he later reached out to Sha Sha to see if she wanted to see him again before leaving.

Just go, she wrote, in simple and unadorned prose.

OK, he jotted.

His heart lost, he clicked send.

There was no reply.

****

From that day on, Jerry’s life felt like an empty shell of what came before. He spent the following week going through the motions. He went to work, he came home from work, and played some games in between. All the while the silence from his phone was deafening. Once it was a source of happiness, and now it represented cold, still death.

The heartache and loneliness came and went and became a sort of new status quo he had to get used to. Soon tickets were purchased and before he knew it the two cousins made their way to the flashy sterility of the airport, waited in many lines, and then finally flew across the clouds to a new land. It was Jerry’s first business trip.

“I have to explain something,” Cousin Lee said in hushed tones after the plane had taken off. He had a whiskey in his hand that he was drinking in a rush. “We’re going to a meeting tonight, right after we check in to the motel. It may seem tense. Don’t make a big deal about it or anything, but yakuza types are not very polite. I owe a lot of money to these people. Just let me do the talking.”

“Oh.” He had not expected to hear that. “My Japanese sucks anyway.”

Sure enough, after landing and going through the formality of customs, there was a quick booking of a small room in the heart of the city. Then Cousin Lee led the way through the most crowded landscape Jerry had ever known onwards to the top floor of a shoddy building within the electronics district. They waited in the lobby of a run-down office and Jerry had little idea of what was going on. His head still suffered from inconsistent air pressure atmospheres and he felt outside of himself. After waiting for some time, a secretary came and directed them to a boardroom.

An old man in a crumpled suit was waiting, and Cousin Lee bowed low. The old man approached, and began speaking in rapid Japanese which Jerry could not follow. Cousin Lee occasionally said some hai’s, but mostly stayed quiet. He seemed to understand.

SLAP! The old man slapped Cousin Lee square in the jaw to his surprise.

SLAP! He repeated the motion, and then Cousin Lee spent a minute parroting drawn-out sentences in clear Japanese. It sounded very apologetic to Jerry.

At last, two men came and brought out several cardboard boxes filled with dusty cartridges from previous eras, all long obsolete and very collectable. Complete with instruction booklets.

Cousin Lee signed a form, and the two cousins carried the boxes out.

There was a palpable sense of relief once the elevator began its slow trek downwards. “Thank you for accompanying me, my cousin.”

“Of course,” Jerry said. “We are family.”

Outside, Cousin Lee led the way to a shipping company. The gleaming metal of the buildings in the mid-afternoon sun almost blinded Jerry. Millions of people surrounded him at every angle—it was the most overwhelming place he had ever visited. Lights blinked and shoppers in bright clothes excitedly rushed from one place to the next, full of energy and music. The city seemed to go on forever in every direction and every dimension, from across the infinite horizon to straight up to the clouds.

He wished he had come here under different circumstances.

It was a long day. The noodles they had for dinner were delicious, but he was tired.

Back at the motel, he finally had a chance to rest and reflect upon the strange surreality of the day.

“Oh.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “What’s the Wi-Fi password?”

He had hardly noticed the absence of the phone all day; there were too many other things to focus on. Without an international plan, the lump of circuitry in his pocket had little use.

So they looked up the Wi-Fi password, connected, and the world he left behind opened up before him.

An update loomed.

Hi …

It was her.

I miss you.

Before he’d even had the chance to post any pictures.

I hope you ’ re well. You must be having a nice trip now, right? Pretty cool.

As his cousin slumped into unconsciousness in the narrow bed right beside him, Jerry tapped away at full-speed, elated: It’s so nice to hear from you. I wish you were here with me now. Let me tell you about my day, it’s incredible, you won’t believe it—

Wow!!

They texted late into the night, as Jerry ignored snores that were so close he could feel the hot breath. It was more important that he catch up with her than sleep. He felt his heart fill up with a warm substance that he hadn’t even realized was missing, and it made him smile.

The very next day, an exhausted and sleepless Jerry visited a few more places and then caught an evening flight back home. The whole thing was like a dream he could barely remember. Quick as the flutter of an insect’s wing, he came and went.

Back at the usual underground land once again, with its thoughtless routines and familiar smells, it was as if he’d never left.

Still, while he was abroad however briefly, he had made sure to buy Sha Sha the cutest stuffed animal he could find.

When they finally met again, she wasn’t disappointed.

“Thank you,” she said meekly.

They slipped away from the workplace and immediately found themselves rushing to the nearest motel, even abandoning a dinner reservation to instead make love passionately on empty stomachs.

Gasping for air after the intimate moments passed, Sha Sha coiled herself around the heat of his body. “I can’t seem to escape you,” she said. “What am I going to do?”

“Don’t think about it,” he said. “Let’s only keep on doing what we’re doing.”

That night she stayed at the motel past midnight, and as it was of the pay-by-the-hour variety he was charged extra for it. The subway system being closed, she had to take an expensive taxi ride home on the cold dark silent road—which she insisted on paying for herself. Jerry later learned she suffered an embarrassing and argumentative encounter with her family upon returning home.

I guess this is something I will need to get used to, she texted. This was followed by a near-infinite assortment of animated hearts and one big goodnight kiss.

They slept well, despite the scarce hours.

I have an idea, Jerry texted the following afternoon.

What is it?

They were both working across the hall from each other, eyes locked but mouths silent and thumbs twitching. Meanwhile Cousin Lee was publicly arguing with Sha Sha’s father over the placement of a poster.

“This is false advertising! These are my products! Mine!”

Do you have any idea how to stop the fighting? she asked.

“Get the hell out of here, you maniac!”

No, I don ’ t.

“Who do you think you are!?”

Then what ’ s your idea?

“I said get the hell out of here!”

I want to get away this weekend.

She thought about it. OK, I’m in. Let’s do it.

SLAM! Cousin Lee banged his hand against the front counter after a formal retreat, having given up on his threats of making a formal complaint to the mall’s business department. “I hate those bastards,” he said. “Stealing our customers like that. They should have no right to sell video game paraphernalia in eye distance of my shop. It’s unethical!”

“Yeah,” Jerry said, with a complete lack of conviction. “Listen, I need to take Saturday off. I’ll be busy.”

“Sure, whatever.” He answered without thought, looking away.

On Thursday, Jerry felt excited. He had become reckless enough to agree to meet Sha Sha for lunch only a couple of subway stops away. The meal of rice burgers was an anxious one, as both frequently looked over their shoulders in fear of a passing family member, but the statement implied in the decision was clear: they were to move forward in the relationship despite the bitter family rivalry.

“Let’s buy the tickets today,” Jerry said. “We’ll get out of town tomorrow night. Stay as far away as possible, on the southern tip of the island, for as many days as we can get away with.”

“That sounds great,” she said.

“The big train station is right upstairs from the mall. Are you ready to go?”

“I’m ready.”

Just then, Jerry’s phone vibrated and he casually checked the first line of a message. He immediately regretted it. “My cousin. He’s asking what’s taking so long.”

“You better go back to work,” Sha Sha told him.

“Not yet. We have more to do.”

“I’ll go and buy the tickets.” She said. “No big deal.”

“Really?”

“Although,” she said slowly, “my money is all tied up with my domineering family. So, y’know…”

He considered the quandary, and then dipped into his bag to carve out a substantial chunk of the weekly cash deposit. (Ostensibly, the reason he was taking an extra-long lunch break was so that he could go to the bank early.) He handed her a centimeter-thin wad of crisp blue thousand-dollar notes. “Take this.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t need that much.”

“You can keep the change, for now. I trust you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Thanks. This is going to be some holiday!”

They hugged, and parted ways soon after. One going down into the depths of the earth, and the other hovering above in promise of flight.

As soon as Jerry entered the official space of the shop, Cousin Lee laid it on him with a barrage of noise. “Where have you been? What’s been going on with you lately? You should know this is our busy day! That’s it! You don’t leave me with any other choice! You have to work this weekend.”

“What?” He barely had any time to process. “But, you said I could get a day off.”

“No way. You know we have big money troubles here.”

“But—”

“You must work harder! I hired you as a favor to your mother, remember that. And if it’s even going to be worth it to pay you as an employee then I need to insist that you show you can eat bitterness.”

“Fine,” he said, not meaning it but having lost the energy to argue. “It’s fine.”

Cousin Lee smirked eerily, with the face of an eel. “The most important thing,” he calmly added, “is that we need to defeat that damn other shop. Here, start stocking the new product and then put up some of these posters in the central corridor. I want all the business!”

Jerry begrudgingly went back to work.

Friday came. The cusp of the weekend’s freedom. Jerry didn’t have the heart to tell his lover that their holiday was supposed to be cancelled. He also didn’t have the heart to actually cancel the holiday. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he decided to just figure it out as he went along.

He wandered within the massive main train station above, an enormous box full of levels and hidden caverns which could hide half the city’s population. Overhead, families ate fast food behind blinking digital screens. Around him, clusters of villagers and Southeast Asians and migrant workers sat on cardboard as they stared at schedules and waited for the time to pass. And beneath him, below the trains and the sprawling tunnels, people worked.

He made his way to the coffee shop on the corner, at the prearranged time in the agreed-upon meeting location, and he leaned on the wall.

A thousand clocks surrounded him at every angle, shining in digital reds and yellows and greens. Focusing on an offhand display by the westernmost ceiling, he realized that she was ten minutes late.

Wasn’t like her.

Where could she be?

Would she even come?

He thought back to the last time he looked at her soft face. Now that he was picturing it in his mind, he had to admit her expression was often unreadable…

Could it be that she was gone?

That she could have scammed him.

No. She couldn’t. Could she?

He felt so stupid.

What if he’d never see her again?

What if she left without him, and had run away forever, and—

“Hello!” he heard, and he jumped up and turned around. It was, of course, her.

They hugged and he shocked her with a full-on public kiss. Tongue to tongue. He instantly felt shame, not for the display of affection but for his previous suspicions of betrayal.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Sha Sha said.

“Anything for you.”

“Well,” she said, grinning. “Shall we get going?”

“Let’s go,” he said with a boldness and finality that surprised him. “Let’s run away. And let’s never come back.”

She giggled. “Ha, yeah right. I wish. We have responsibilities, come on.”

“Let’s pretend to run away,” he said, not missing a beat.

Family guilt condensed around them, growing like the shadow of dusk turning to midnight.

He awaited her answer.

“Okay,” she said, after a brief moment of reflection. “Let’s pretend.”

He got his answer, and said nothing in return. He only acted. Hand in hand, they made their way to the departure station. She flashed the tickets. They were led through a pathway deep into the land, and melded with the horde of masses until there was almost nothing left but the feeling of her hand.

Even in this small land, it amazed him how much a body could disappear.

Not with a promise but with a possibility, and with a glimmer of hope, he walked away from what he was supposed to do and what he was supposed to be. He decided to worry about the consequences tomorrow and to try his best to not give them another thought.

Don’t look back, he thought to himself. Well, he added, with one last moment of consideration, Maybe not really.

They left.

****

 

Cousin Lee opened up shop by himself for the fifth day in a row. He wasn’t upset; he felt resigned to his fate.

It didn’t look like Jerry would be coming back. Oh well. Lost another one. It had happened several times over already.

Lee didn’t even feel angry about the money. He could always borrow more. It wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme, and anyway what’s the worst that could happen?

The only thing he felt upset about was that he’d have to find another relative to be his new employee. What a waste of potential. He’d really hoped that Jerry would have stuck around longer. But there was nothing to be done about it now but call up some aunts and uncles to let them know about an exciting new business opportunity…

People were replaceable, even if money and outdated collectable cartridges were not.

Meanwhile, across the hallway, he saw a new face. Some young kid, a boy of late teenage years, helping out by putting up stuffed creatures around the shelves.

Something seemed to be missing the last few days over there. He couldn’t place what it was. But now that there was an addition, he found himself getting angry as he watched. How dare they add inventory after the week he’d had? It was unforgivable.

Before he’d allow himself to get angry, as he felt the blood beginning to boil around his forehead, he decided to distract himself by playing an old, familiar, comfortable video game. Better to put his energy into something productive.

He just needed a win.

As he faded into the levels, and lives were lost and turned to coins, he thought back on his cousin who wasn’t quite a natural with these kinds of things but did display a certain kind of talent.

He gathered momentum stage by stage, and lost himself for a few pure yet brief moments. Shops opened and shops closed. Several onlookers started to collect around his periphery, eager to watch but not to buy, and he hardly noticed at all.

Hmmm, he thought to himself, maybe Cousin Chen…