The Afterlives of Taiwanese Literature (臺灣文學的來世, 2023) is a timely and ambitious co-edited volume that raises an important question: what possibilities and feasible strategies exist for Taiwanese literature to sustain its relevance, be remembered, and become more approachable? The title’s reference to “afterlives,” inspired by Walter Benjamin’s notion of translation and Astrid Erll’s memory studies, encompasses two related puns—the future “history” (來史) and “forms or paradigms” (來式) of Taiwanese literature. While not necessarily a fixed temporal marker, this phrase suggests ongoing changes and the anticipation of new themes, aesthetic devices, and modes of literary transmission.

The chapters compiled in this book showcase the ways in which younger-generation scholars and writers are grappling with Taiwan’s rapidly changing reality, drawing on their own unique aesthetics shaped by the Williamsian “structure of feelings” (p. 59) of their generation, along with the challenges and opportunities of an increasingly digitized age. Collectively, the thirteen chapters explore how literature is valued—what can be written into literary history—and how it is disseminated—how a work can be spread. The book provides deeply self-reflective insights into why we produce and study literature, and how we can more effectively share our creative and scholarly works in today’s visually driven, information-saturated culture.

The book is divided into three sections, each with its own distinct focus. The first section, comprising four chapters, is dedicated to the emerging themes and aesthetic styles in contemporary Taiwanese literature. In Chapter 1, Tang Shu-wen 湯舒雯 examines how literature from 2010 onwards addresses historical injustices by utilizing various tactics, particularly that of “anachrony” (時空錯位), a concept borrowed from the French philosopher Jacques Rancière. In Chapter 2, Chen Kuo-wei 陳國偉 analyzes how spirits and monsters in Xiao Xiang Shen’s 瀟湘神 series function as a “meaning machine” (意義機器), a term coined by Judith Halberstam, to provoke historical reflection. Chapter 3, by Zhan Min-xu 詹閔旭, explores “the South” as a new epistemological framework among Taiwanese Millennial writers, which is evident in the characterization, settings, and linguistic styles of their works. Finally, in Chapter 4, Lü Yue 呂樾 discusses the trend of “turning to oneself” in Millennial nature writing, using Chen I-ru’s 陳怡如 Marinated Rainbow in a Muddy Field (泥地漬虹, 2018) and Hsu Chen-fu’s 徐振輔 Taming the Blue Sheep (馴羊記, 2021) as examples. Lü argues that, unlike earlier eco-writing in Taiwan, which was primarily motivated by environmental conservation, Millennial writers begin with personal aspirations, showcasing a new relational poetics with nature.

The second section of the book, consisting of Chapters Five to Eight, focuses on media culture. Wang Wan-jui 王萬睿 examines the “intermediality” (互媒性) of Wu Ming-yi’s 吳明益 short story collection, The Magician on the Skywalk (天橋上的魔術師, 2011), and how both Wu and Yang Ya-che 楊雅喆, the director of the 2021 TV series based on the book, pay tribute to Hou Hsiao-hsien’s 侯孝賢 1986 film Dust in the Wind (戀戀風塵). Hsieh Hsin-chin 謝欣芩, drawing on Astrid Erll’s memory studies,^[1] explores how three different types of literary documentaries help extend the life of literary works. Chang Li-hsuan 張俐璇 continues along this line by scrutinizing the “reculturation” (轉譯) of colonial Taiwanese author Hsu Ping-ding’s 許丙丁 serialized Hoklo novel, Little Gods (小封神, March 1931–July 1932),^[2] into a video game as a means of memorializing literature. Tsai Mei-tzu (蔡玫姿) shifts her attention to Malaysian Chinese female writer Maniniwei’s 馬尼尼為 illustration art works as a minority creation (小眾創作).

The third section consists of five chapters, which delve into the exploration of new identities in Taiwan. In Chapter 9, Li Shu-chun 李淑君 analyzes Gu Yuling’s 顧玉玲 multi-angled representations of Taiwan’s White Terror period. Following this, three chapters discuss the negotiation of homosexual or Indigenous identities, or both. Wang Yu-ting 王鈺婷 examines how the Puyuma-tribe scholar-cum-writer Ma Yi-hang 馬翊航 navigates his Indigenous identity and feminine gayhood in his prose work Indigenous (山地話／珊蒂化, 2020). Chi Ta-wei 紀大偉 offers a feminist

phenomenological reading of Yang Shuangzi’s 楊雙子 GL (girls’ love) novel, The Season When Flowers Bloom (花開時節, 2017), which is a queer adaptation of Yang Qianhe’s 楊千鶴 colonial-era fiction of the same title. Chen Chi-fan 陳芷凡 studies the representation of homosexuality and non-realist style in recent Indigenous Literary Awards, organized by the bimonthly magazine Culture of the Mountain and Seas (山海文化), envisioning the future of Indigenous literature. The volume concludes with Ma Yi-hang’s 馬翊航 investigation of Xiao Xiang Shen’s 瀟湘神 The Colonial Journey (殖民地之旅, 2020), Kao Jun Honn’s 高俊宏 Crossing (橫斷記, 2017), and Huang Chong-kai’s 黃崇凱 The Formosa Exchange (新寶島, 2021), demonstrating how each utilizes specific strategies and routes/movements in response to Taiwan’s complex history, such as re-writing, parody, and imagination.^[3]

Overall, this edited volume makes a twofold contribution. Firstly, it adds to the emerging research on Taiwanese literature in the 21st century by studying several recent but often overlooked fictional and non-fictional works. Secondly, it showcases the collective efforts of mostly early to mid-career scholars who approach Taiwanese literature or conceive Taiwan’s literary history from a fresh and intermedia perspective. Regarding the former, this book addresses both “older” and “newer” themes. The “older” but still relevant topics include historical justice and accountability (Chapters 1, 9, and 13), gender identity, multi-ethnicity, Indigenous identity (Chapters 10–12), and environmental concerns (Chapter 4). The “newer” themes are found in the monster writing (Chapter 2), which may include Ho Ching-yao’s 何敬堯 works, as mentioned in Chiu Kuei-fen’s 邱貴芬 foreword, as well as writers’ extended “Southern” horizon to new immigrants discussed in Chapter 3.

For the second merit concerning new approaches, the four chapters in the middle section urge us to take the intermedia environment faced by Millennial writers into consideration. Strategies discussed in this section include adaptation (Chapter 5), appropriation (Chapter 6), digital translation (Chapter 7), and the very means of literary creation, such as woodcutting and illustration art (Chapter 8).

Methodologically, this section is more illuminating than the other two sections, although the other two sections, without the “media” element, can be appreciated in their own ways. The “reincarnations” of literary texts in various new forms prompt us to think about a relatively old question regarding literary popularization, promotion, or outreach. While most case studies can be broadly categorized as translation studies, the Chinese term 轉譯 (reculturation) is explicitly used only in the title of Chang’s chapter. However, the term “reculturation” has gained momentum in recent years and warrants further unpacking. It virtually contains two Chinese characters—to convert (zhuan 轉) and to translate (yi 譯). The “convert” part is especially interesting as it implies making accommodations for the targeted audience so that previously intangible stories or distant histories can be comprehended more easily by them. However, to successfully extend the life of literary works, it is necessary to identify viable portals to begin with. It is worth noting that Taiwan’s earlier generations of writers and directors, such as Hsu Ping-ding, Yang Qianhe, and Hou Hsiao-hsien, continue to inspire Millennial writers, highlighting the continuity of Taiwanese literature and culture. This also underscores the importance of literary and intermedial legacies, as well as how they are transformed over time.

There are at least two ways to potentially enhance the uniqueness of this volume. The first would be to provide a more media-focused discussion on literary transmission. If the word limit allows, more chapters could be added on the relationship between various media and literature, such as literary NFTs, literature on social media, literature and photography, radio, or even oral transmission, which would open up new territories for research. The other aspect that could be further elaborated is to include more in-depth discussion on the different players (or “actors” in Latour’s oft-quoted “actor-network theory”) that make the “afterlives” of literature possible. Chapter 7 touches upon the role played by the National Museum of Taiwan Literature (NMTL, 台灣文學館), setting a fitting example. To gain a more nuanced picture of the new forms of literary “conversion-translation,” additional case studies would be helpful. For instance, examining other projects led by the NMTL Reculturation Team (轉譯研發部), along with last year’s project Our Adventures One Century Ago (一百年前，我們的冒險) under the helm of editor Sheng Hao-wei 盛浩偉, featuring an immersive non-fictional re-writing volume (文學冒險卷) and a textual compilation volume (作品選文卷), could offer valuable insights for this volume.

“Reculturation” as a method often involves making dynamic connections between the past (Taiwan’s Japanese colonial period in most cases) and the present (post-Millennium Taiwan). This approach effectively positions the contribution of this book and clearly addresses the implications of “afterlives” in terms of future “history” and “forms/paradigms,” as mentioned at the beginning of this review. This edited book can indeed be seen as “a tentative proposal of Millennial writers’ literary history” (p. 127), as noted by Lü Yue. The use of the term “tentative proposal” (芻議) brings to mind Hu Shih’s 胡適 pioneering essay “A Preliminary Proposal for Literary Reform,” which he published in New Youth in 1917 at the age of 26. Despite the different socio-historical context, both proposals invite us to rethink the capacity of literature, writers’ agency and responsibility, and how writing can be passed down and understood by a wider audience.

While I am not entirely persuaded by Hu’s evolutionary literary view, I do acknowledge that each epoch or generation, particularly the “Millennial writers” mentioned in the book, which implies a Mannheim-inspired “generational” analysis, has its own distinct environment for literary production and dissemination. Since the legitimation of the term “Taiwanese literature” in the 1980s, there has been no need to disguise Taiwanese literature as either Chinese literature or “nativist” literature. The institutionalization of Taiwanese literature in 1997 further solidified Taiwan’s literary subjectivity. However, younger authors and critics face challenges such as a decline in readership for serious literature and a preference among young people for visual media. To some extent, this book serves as a self-positioning endeavor for Millennial writers and researchers to empower themselves and make their writing more relevant to the “touch-screen generation” audience.

Despite the challenges posed by an increasingly digitized social context, there are also new possibilities to explore. It is heartening to see that emerging scholars of Taiwanese literature have convincingly demonstrated that Taiwan’s literary historiography can be narrated in multiple ways, such as through the form of “stories,” without expressing a specific ideology or coherent master narrative. If earlier paradigms, such as Huang De-shih’s 黃得時 proposal for Taiwanese literature and Yeh Shih-tao’s 葉石濤 Taiwan-centric notion of nativist literature,^[4] can be roughly regarded as “decolonial” efforts, albeit implicitly, then turning toward the world can be considered a key approach to Taiwan’s literary historiography in the new millennium. This shift can be attributed to various factors, including continued globalization, the resurgence of the concept of “world literature,” and the Taiwanese government’s Southward policy, which positions China as not necessarily the major reference point for Taiwan. These factors are certainly worthy of further exploration.

The new “worlding Taiwan” framework is not only embraced by established scholars such as Chiu Kuei-fen,^[5] and overseas researchers such as Pei-yin Lin and Wen-chi Li,^[6] but also practiced by younger authors and critics. Among the case studies, Maniniwei serves as a reminder of the “polysystem” within Taiwanese literature,^[7] and her relationship with Taiwan’s publication mechanism warrants exploration.^[8] Huang Chong-kai’s speculative fiction, studied in the final chapter, is also illustrative of this framework. The ingenious Taiwan-Cuba exchange provides ample space for theoretical engagement, such as through the “global South” framework. The underpinning “hyper-link” among younger researchers (mostly born in the 1980s) who are theoretically-informed and have a sense of mission, including multiple authorship, as demonstrated in the warmly received and highly readable 100 Years of Taiwan Literature (百年降生：1900-2000台灣文學故事, 2018), can actually be seen as a preceding attempt and relevant comparison to this volume.

[1] Astrid Erll, Memory in Culture. Trans. Sara B. Young (Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011).

[2] This English translation is used by the National Museum of Taiwan Literature.

[3] Ma’s book is titled after Sato Haruo’s 1932 story of the same title. Similarly, Kao’s title was inspired by the Government-General of Taiwan employee Kada Naoji’s work, Taiwan chūō sanmyaku ōdanki 台灣中央山脈橫斷記 (An Account of Crossing Taiwan’s Central Mountain Range, 1914).

[4] Huang Te-shih’s “Taiwan wenxueshi xushuo” 台灣文學史序說 (Preface to Taiwan Literary History), originally published in Taiwan bungaku (台湾文学) 3.3 (July 1943): 2–11, is usually seen as a response to counter Shimada Kinji’s colonizer-centric “Taiwan no bungaku teki kagenmi” 臺灣の文學的過現未 (The Past, Present, and Future of Taiwan’s Literature), Bungei Taiwan (文藝臺灣) 2.2 (May 1941): 2–24. Similarly, Yeh Shih-tao’s “Taiwan de xiangtu wenxue” 台灣的鄉土文學 (Taiwan’s Nativist Literature), Apollo 97 (November 1965): 70–73 also differs from the literary perspective advocated by the Nationalist regime at that time.

[5] Chiu Kuei-fen. Taiwan wenxue de shijie zhi lu 台灣文學的世界之路 (The Global Path of Taiwanese Literature) (Taipei: National Chengchi University, 2023).

[6] Pei-yin Lin and Wen-chi Li, eds. Taiwanese Literature as World Literature (London: Bloomsbury, 2022).

[7] Tee Kim-tong uses this term to analyze the journal Xiandai Wenxue in Taiwan’s 1960s literary establishment. See his “Modernism and the Taiwanese Literary Polysystem in the 1960’s: Xiandai wenxue Revisited,” Chung-wai Literary Monthly 30.3 (August 2001): 93–113.

[8] In 2022, Maniniwei referred to herself as a “parasite” (寄生人) in her apartment in Taipei. See her “Taipei Apartment,” United Daily News (July 3, 2022), https://reading.udn.com/read/story/7048/6424575. At a conference entitled “Variation: Textual Translation and Cultural Crossings” (變異：文本翻譯與文化跨境) held at Academia Sinica on December 7–8, 2023, Lim Song Hwee also used the concept “parasite” to discuss Maniniwei’s various projects within Taiwan’s context.