It may, however, be the case that today's youth, far from being put in touch with the past by photos, feel ever more remote from it, simply because the images of it are so primitive by current standards. With this come increasing expectations from, for instance, our politicians. When our images of ourselves are so extravagantly glossy, sophisticated, inter-active and so on, what are our leaders doing looking not very different from their 1980s predecessors?
Earlier this week, while looking at photos of the former Hong Kong street protester "Long Hair" taking the oath in his T-shirt in that city's legislature, surrounded by his be-suited and embarrassed fellow-legislators, it was impossible to believe that here was the future already born and taking its place among the elect (not to mention the elected). Here was someone who had been made famous by TV images, and had now come knocking at the door of history demanding to be given a place in a real-time, power-wielding existence.
All in all, there's something only marginally relevant about Sixty Years in Taiwan. We don't expect our photos to be printed in hardback books any more. We expect to look at them once, then either throw them away, switch channels, or forward them by e-mail to our friends. The media change, and real people run to catch up.
Interestingly, it's not the black-and-white photos that seem uninteresting in this book -- it's the color photos from the 1990s. That, the young surely feel, must have been a truly primitive era. And though the long perspective may add a patina of charm, the recent past looks dreary indeed. Even yesterday appears dull to many. So, move over the present! The future has already arrived!



