Inside a shopping mall near Financial Street, past the home decor stores and mannequins dressed in hot-pink lingerie, two friends sipped lattes and debated whether women should shave their armpits.
It was a Thursday afternoon at Lady Book Salon, one of the few bookstores in China geared toward women, and Wang Lu, 32, and Emily Zhou, 29, both investment bankers, were discussing what it meant to be a feminist.
Wang insisted the term was too radical and had become associated with dissidents who wanted sweeping social change in China. Zhou disagreed.
Photo: AFP
“Why should women have to do all these unnatural things, like shaving their armpits, for the sake of men?” she said. “We have to stand up for ourselves.”
REFUGE FOR WOMEN
Since opening two years ago, Lady Book Salon has become a refuge for working women seeking spiritual fulfillment and a place to trade advice on managing families and careers. Bankers, artists, government workers and students come each day in search of books on mindfulness, negotiation, philosophy and women’s rights.
The founder of Lady Book Salon, Xu Chunyu, described herself as a “mild feminist,” saying women should focus on empowering themselves and improving their own lives, rather than striving to change the patriarchy embedded in Chinese culture.
Xu, 41, opened her first female-oriented store in Beijing a decade ago in hopes of giving women a forum for expanding their knowledge of culture, history, feminine identity and relationships. She now operates nine stores in mainland China, each with the slogan, “Be a literary lady!”
Xu said many Chinese women, especially those between the ages of 20 and 45, led a “volatile life,” overwhelmed by the demands of work, family and love.
“I wanted to establish a place for women to express themselves and to show their independence,” Xu said. “Together, they can overcome obstacles and broaden their horizons.”
During a lunch break at Lady Book Salon recently, Philly Ma, 35, sat with a friend at a corner table and cried. Ma said the stress of working at a government financial agency and raising children was overpowering.
“We long for some place to rest the soul,” she said. “This is an oasis in such a chaotic city.”
Su Qing, 33, a manager at a financial services company, started coming to Lady Book Salon last year to read books on business, Chinese history and Buddhism. Su, who struggled with postpartum depression, said that studying Buddhism helped her understand that happiness came not from material wealth but spiritual peace.
“After coming here, I found the direction of my life,” Su said. “Being here has shown I have something beyond my family life, that I have my own interests and activities.”
A LITTLE RESPECT
At another table, Zhang Yuan Yuan, 31, a financial services manager, said she was distraught by the lack of outrage over domestic violence in China. Earlier this month, a video showing a woman being attacked by a stranger in the hallway of a four-star hotel in Beijing went viral. The hotel staff stood idle.
“It’s not an isolated incident,” Zhang said. “There’s not enough respect for women.”
In recent years, the Communist Party has pushed back against some forms of feminist advocacy — last year, it detained five activists who were planning a campaign against sexual harassment — even as the government has portrayed itself as a champion of gender equality.
Vickey Chen, 22, a senior at Beijing Foreign Studies University, said she did not think it helped the cause of feminism to have a bookstore tailored to women.
“You can’t say that we females can only read one kind of book,” said Chen, as she picked up a children’s story and perused a book by Albert Camus. “We should be exposed to all kinds of books.”
Lady Book Salon has tried to please women with both progressive and traditional interests.
Alongside copies of Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex and Chinese sociologist Li Yinhe’s Feminism are cake-baking cookbooks and how-to guides on finding husbands. The store hosts talks with female writers and discussions on family and workplace issues, but it also offers classes on making jewelry and applying makeup.
Xu, wearing Buddhist prayer beads on one wrist and a Xiaomi fitness band on the other, said it was important to provide women with both spiritual and practical guidance.
“We have to pay attention to the development of their thoughts and ideas and also help them deal with the realities of their daily lives,” she said.
Customers who visit the store do not have to go far to find reminders of the stereotypes of women that persist in Chinese society.
Lady Book Salon sits directly across from a women’s underwear store. A few feet from its front door is a large advertisement showing a model in black lingerie, surrounded by hearts. Next to the woman are two words: “Perfect Lover.”
The small platform at Duoliang Train Station in Taitung County’s Taimali Township (太麻里) served villagers from 1992 to 2006, but was eventually shut down due to lack of use. Just 10 years later, the abandoned train station had become widely known as the most beautiful station in Taiwan, and visitors were so frequent that the village had to start restricting traffic. Nowadays, Duoliang Village (多良) is known as a bit of a tourist trap, with a mandatory, albeit modest, admission fee of NT$10 giving access to a crowded lane of vendors with a mediocre view of the ocean and the trains
For many people, Bilingual Nation 2030 begins and ends in the classroom. Since the policy was launched in 2018, the debate has centered on students, teachers and the pressure placed on schools. Yet the policy was never solely about English education. The government’s official plan also calls for bilingualization in Taiwan’s government services, laws and regulations, and living environment. The goal is to make Taiwan more inclusive and accessible to international enterprises and talent and better prepared for global economic and trade conditions. After eight years, that grand vision is due for a pulse check. RULES THAT CAN BE READ For Harper Chen (陳虹宇), an adviser
Traditionally, indigenous people in Taiwan’s mountains practice swidden cultivation, or “slash and burn” agriculture, a practice common in human history. According to a 2016 research article in the International Journal of Environmental Sustainability, among the Atayal people, this began with a search for suitable forested slopeland. The trees are burnt for fertilizer and the land cleared of stones. The stones and wood are then piled up to make fences, while both dead and standing trees are retained on the plot. The fences are used to grow climbing crops like squash and beans. The plot itself supports farming for three years.
President William Lai (賴清德) on Nov. 25 last year announced in a Washington Post op-ed that “my government will introduce a historic US$40 billion supplementary defense budget, an investment that underscores our commitment to defending Taiwan’s democracy.” Lai promised “significant new arms acquisitions from the United States” and to “invest in cutting-edge technologies and expand Taiwan’s defense industrial base,” to “bolster deterrence by inserting greater costs and uncertainties into Beijing’s decision-making on the use of force.” Announcing it in the Washington Post was a strategic gamble, both geopolitically and domestically, with Taiwan’s international credibility at stake. But Lai’s message was exactly