Representation in Chi Ta-wei’s Fiction

Representation has to do with the manner in which characters and themes are portrayed in fictional works. It is generally done for some emotive or thematic end, to draw the reader closer to the characters or to put distance between them, or else to clarify or obscure thematic connections that might otherwise go unnoticed. Chi’s works of ku’er fiction present a largely favorable portrait of tongzhi living within or on the margins of their society. The following is a brief discussion of some of the ways tongzhi are represented in the works translated here.

Representation in Membranes

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Perhaps the most important thing to note about Membranes from the standpoint of representation is its treatment of homosexuality as normative. As has already been noted, there are no straight human characters in the story, Momo herself is

transgender, and Momo’s mother is sympathetically portrayed as being in at least two lesbian relationships. This representation is further developed by Chi’s sympathetic description of a varied sex life as a desirable luxury good: homosexuality is elevated to the status of a thing to be coveted and enjoyed rather than shunned, shamed or ignored. Although it could be argued that the failure of Momo’s mother’s relationships or the lecherous behavior of the gardener Paolo are negative representations of homosexuality, we should be careful to note that the end of Momo’s mother’s relationship with Tomie is presented like any other breakup between lovers, while Paolo’s behavior and subsequent violent death are a reflection of his flawed humanity rather than of his homosexuality. The characters are given a fair hearing and

portrayed in a way that allows the reader to judge their individual failings without having to pass judgment on their homosexuality, which in the world of Membranes is simply the natural outcome of attraction between members of the same sex. Momo’s life is presented as something that frequently transcends concerns of sexuality and is clouded instead by commercial and anatomical issues that literally render her dead to the outside world. She is in many ways the living embodiment of both worlds she inhabits, the glamorous, fantastic world of a beautician working and living under the ocean and the horrific, dystopian, and routine life of an android living on the surface.

Momo represents both the failures of old Taiwan and the dreams of New Taiwan, the relics of the past and the hopes for the future. Through this dual representation Chi allows us to see the birth of a new society from the margins and castaways of the old, underscoring the important role of tongzhi culture in creating a more just, free, and equitable society.

Representation in L’Apres-midi d’un Faune

The violent murder and fantastic retribution at the heart of this story in some ways obscure the representation of tongzhi characters within it. The hammer with which A Suo murders K. can be seen as a representation of the martial law that repressed and oppressed homosexuals in Taiwan in 1987. A Suo’s sketch of K. can be seen as the representation of the creative power of the mind when freed from the stifling constraints of home, family, and city. The pocket watch that unites K. and A Suo can be seen as a symbol of the kind of strained, concealed and often painful intimacy shared by members of Taiwan’s tongzhi community, while the bestial faun

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can be viewed as a representation of the dangers of forcibly repressing natural homoerotic passion. The monster is born of a society that refuses to tolerate homosexual unions and is thus also a symbol of the decadence, hypocrisy, and violence of Taiwanese society that prided itself on having become so open during the decade of the 1990s.

Representation in The War Is Over

The space station on which the main characters of the story live can be seen as a representation of the island of Taiwan, an isolated place that is denied recognition by the denizens of Earth but nevertheless is as full of life as any place on the planet.

The human waizi represent both the overbearing military and the dominant patriarchal culture of Taiwanese society, while the replicants represent those who, like tongzhi, have been marginalized and repressed by it. The replicants also represent the naturalness of true, non-oppressive love, while the waizi represent the hypocrisy of those whose own sexual and moral practices may be even more deviant than the practices of those they condemn. The stars in the story represent both unrealized possibilities and the fixed, unchanging nature of our inborn impulses; while the roses represent both life in its full, natural bloom and the death that ensues when this natural state is disturbed. Chi’s tongzhi characters are sympathetically represented here as attempting to be all that they can be and, at least to a limited degree, succeeding in realizing their ambitions.

Representation in Nuit et brouillard

The cramped radio studio in which much of the story takes place may be said to represent “the closet,” while the piano is a symbol of the passion, intimacy, and harmony of homosexual relations. The telephone represents the unfeeling demands and pressure of the outside world, which the protagonist and his guest are free to ignore. The roses represent both affection and passion, while the photograph that looks nothing like its subject represents the multiplicity of identities possible in tongzhi culture and the refusal of tongzhi to fit into a single stereotypical mold determined by Taiwanese society. The two men themselves represent “the people who are not seen”

and thus stand as symbols of the often marginalized tongzhi who nevertheless

remain in the shadows, waiting to be discovered by anyone who cares enough to look for them.

Representation in 11 Songs for Percussion

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The various scenarios and characters in this collection are all representative of the struggle of tongzhi to find their place in society and the world and to satisfy their individual and sexual desires. Whether they face death or oppression alone or in groups, whether they find passion with their fellow students or with their coaches, commanders, and teachers, and whether their desires are realized or frustrated, they all represent some aspects of the incredible resilience and diversity of Taiwan’s tongzhi communities. Here Chi uses his characters to represent the rainbow of manifold possibilities, both positive and negative, facing Taiwanese tongzhi culture in the 1990s.

Section Summary

Through his skillful use of representation, Chi allows his fictional worlds to show themselves to the reader without having to explicitly point to and identify them. He thus opens up his work to a rich level of interpretation, in which the worlds he creates become microcosms for Taiwanese society at large, his characters have hopes and aspirations that can be readily identified in contemporary society, and his fictional creations can serve as commentary on the real world of both his own day and that of the reader who encounters him later. Through representation, Chi’s works gain an immediacy and personal appeal that they might lack if Chi were to write more directly, and avoid becoming dry, dogmatic statements of a political or philosophical position.