Train stations could very well be viewed in a new and different light following the recent publication of a book that sets out to explore the relationship between station development and the nation's social and cultural growth. Entitled Classic Railway Stations in Taiwan (
However far fetched the theme may appear, there is, according to both the Taiwan Railway Administration (
"People take stations for granted. But as gateways for the cities and towns they serve they are more than just buildings," Huang Min-ren (黃民仁), Taiwan Rail general engineer (台鐵總工程司) said. "Being the first and last impressions visitors get of places, train stations are in fact a very important social milieu."
Plotting the history of Taiwan's 114-year-old railway network through the use of essays and photographs, the crux of the book centers around seven train stations -- in Hsinchu, Taichung, Chiayi, Tainan, Keelung, Kaohsiung and Taipei -- and their cultural significance.
"The aim of the book is twofold. First, to give readers an insightful glimpse into the histories of the stations. And second, to show how the expansion of the railway system in Taiwan was reflected changes in society," CCA spokesperson, Wu Mi-cha (吳密察) explained. "As one of the oldest rail networks in Asia, the growth of Taiwan's railways was an important chapter in the history of rail development worldwide."
Filled with the specifications and architectural blueprints from the Japanese colonial era railway network, the book took four years to complete and takes readers on a step-by-step tour of the insides and outsides of the stations. Be it small beams, station entrances and exits, or the facilities found within, each part of the station reflects the social and cultural values of the periods in which they were built.
"The styles and designs used typified what people thought train stations ought to have been like," according to Liou Shuenn-ren (
The plans the book relies on were, until four years ago, slowly rotting away in an abandoned Taiwan Rail building in Taipei. Granted permission by Taiwan Rail to enter and search the building in August of 1998, Liou stumbled across upwards of 5,000 Japanese colonial era architectural plans for train stations dating from between 1908 to the mid-1940s.
Although not the first to make the find, the professor was the first individual officially granted permission by railway authorities to remove and study the plans. "About ten years ago a student managed to get hold of copies for his thesis, and I heard that a university professor had also gotten hold of copies once," Liou said. "But I don't think either was given permission to remove them from the building for further study." Built of wood, over 70 years old and awaiting demolition, the building's lack of ventilation and damp interior meant that much of Liou's find was in very poor condition and in serious need of restoration. This is one of the reasons he feels Taiwan Rail was so forthright in granting him permission to use them.
"I think we were granted permission to remove them because Tunghai University has the equipment and personnel specializing in the restoration of old documents as well as a nationally respected history department," Liou continued. "I'm sure that had we not been in possession of such faculties the documents and plans would have been destroyed when the building was demolished roughly a month after we'd gotten them out."
Published at a time when restoration of several of Taiwan's oldest train stations is already underway, it is hoped that the book will prove popular not only with those interested in trains or architecture, but also with the layperson.
"With Kaohsiung and Taitung's Japanese era stations making news in recent months, I'm hopeful that the book will stoke a great deal of interest," the professor said. "And not just amongst architects and historians. Everybody uses train stations."
In order to lighten the book's technical side and make it appeal to a wider audience, poetry recreating the mood of the cities and the periods in which the stations were constructed is also included in the book.
"Obviously we realized that filling it exclusively with technical drawings would severally limit its readership," Liou said. "So we decided to add poems, photos and essays pertaining to the history of Taiwan's rail network."
While creating a lot of interest not only at home, but also in Japan, where, according to Liou the book has proven extremely popular with train hobbyists, its chances of making the best seller list are virtually impossible.
Only 1,300 copies have been made available to the general public and, because of the involvement of the CCA, the small number of copies that have been published can only be found at Eslite bookstores (
"It's a pity that we can't put the book on wider release, but because there's a government body involved this is impossible. Government publications cannot be sold at public bookstores," Liou explained. "Because we obviously couldn't have undertaken the project without their help, there's little we can do about this."
Jan. 26 to Feb. 1 Nearly 90 years after it was last recorded, the Basay language was taught in a classroom for the first time in September last year. Over the following three months, students learned its sounds along with the customs and folktales of the Ketagalan people, who once spoke it across northern Taiwan. Although each Ketagalan settlement had its own language, Basay functioned as a common trade language. By the late 19th century, it had largely fallen out of daily use as speakers shifted to Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese), surviving only in fragments remembered by the elderly. In
William Liu (劉家君) moved to Kaohsiung from Nantou to live with his boyfriend Reg Hong (洪嘉佑). “In Nantou, people do not support gay rights at all and never even talk about it. Living here made me optimistic and made me realize how much I can express myself,” Liu tells the Taipei Times. Hong and his friend Cony Hsieh (謝昀希) are both active in several LGBT groups and organizations in Kaohsiung. They were among the people behind the city’s 16th Pride event in November last year, which gathered over 35,000 people. Along with others, they clearly see Kaohsiung as the nexus of LGBT rights.
Dissident artist Ai Weiwei’s (艾未未) famous return to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) has been overshadowed by the astonishing news of the latest arrests of senior military figures for “corruption,” but it is an interesting piece of news in its own right, though more for what Ai does not understand than for what he does. Ai simply lacks the reflective understanding that the loneliness and isolation he imagines are “European” are simply the joys of life as an expat. That goes both ways: “I love Taiwan!” say many still wet-behind-the-ears expats here, not realizing what they love is being an
In the American west, “it is said, water flows upwards towards money,” wrote Marc Reisner in one of the most compelling books on public policy ever written, Cadillac Desert. As Americans failed to overcome the West’s water scarcity with hard work and private capital, the Federal government came to the rescue. As Reisner describes: “the American West quietly became the first and most durable example of the modern welfare state.” In Taiwan, the money toward which water flows upwards is the high tech industry, particularly the chip powerhouse Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC, 台積電). Typically articles on TSMC’s water demand
RSS