Inspired by Japanese comic book and animated movie One Piece, Taipei has been compared to the notorious “kingdom of the celestial dragons” (天龍國), a kingdom for nobles only, in the controversy over a temporary home for sick children.
The label has been turned into a negative symbol for the city’s Da-an District (大安) and its residents as an example of how the cultural and creativity industry can help us see things in a different light. Taking this view helps us to stop thinking about this industry only in terms of production value and economic terms, and it helps us avoid the idea that cultural creativity should be measured by whether it creates business.
The comics and animation industry has always had the potential to make the city reconsider its desire for modernization and that is something it should take pride in.
There is a reason why the desires of the city can be transformed into a shared sense of crisis. In the 1960s, a time when Western capitalism dominated the world, the Italian writer Italo Calvino wrote an inspiring passage in his book Invisible Cities, in which he argued that it was pointless to try to decide whether a city should be classified among happy cities or among unhappy cities.
“It makes no sense to divide cities into these two species, but rather into another two: those that through the years and the changes continue to give their form to desires, and those in which desires either erase the city or are erased by it,” Calvino wrote.
The way of thinking about urban modernization driven by capitalism has become a bad example for urban development. The time has come for us to reconsider urban values.
Let us take real-estate speculation as an example, which is driven by market competition. Some people actually treat it as an ethical way of protecting communities. They claim that they want to maintain a clean and safe environment, but in fact their only concern is whether the price of their home is rising or falling. This is not only an attempt to exclude new or unfamiliar things from their communities, it is also a sense of urban self-righteousness created by the opportunist speculative economy.
Naturally, this has caused a strong protest from the members of the urban middle class who live in these communities and disagree with these values.
In other words, the wealthy are pushing up market prices because they want to protect the value of their property by excluding sick children from their community. Such behavior is of course unacceptable to anyone who is willing to work together with others to safeguard shared urban values. No wonder many Taipei residents were ashamed when their city was called the “kingdom of the celestial dragons.”
The discussion triggered by the comparison of the city to the “kingdom of the celestial dragons” is quite unique because it allows us to observe the greater picture from a small detail.
Indeed, crises are often seen in the city, but as Chinese tourists often say after a visit, Taiwan’s greatest asset is its people.
Frankly speaking, an immigrant society must be tolerant, but it could also easily lose its own identity as a result of external influences.
Still, we should embrace newcomers regardless of their social standing and avoid any analysis based on class differences. In addition, the people’s warmth is the most valuable spiritual resource in daily life. Taipei, as the nation’s capital, has always been praised for the warmth of its people.
When the term danding (淡定), which means “calmness,” first appeared in a dramatic breakup story recently, it caused a sensation online. This was an example of the creative online culture among ordinary people. Comments by people of all ages implied that after having experienced the economic ups and downs of the chaotic urban competition, city residents are looking for a way to express their opinions and live an optimistic and active life of their own, without being led along by their desires.
Looking at the controversy over the “kingdom of the celestial dragons” from the perspective of the warmth of the citizens of Taipei, perhaps the term danding could teach us to pay greater attention to another term, namely “self-liberalization,” as a way to deal with the desires of a constantly changing city.
By doing that, the message would be that in the busy, competitive city of Taipei, we hope to free ourselves from the pursuit of short-term benefits and to free the city from the stigmatization of the “kingdom of the celestial dragons.”
Chiao Chung is the artistic director of the Assignment Theatre.
Translated by Eddy Chang
Donald Trump’s return to the White House has offered Taiwan a paradoxical mix of reassurance and risk. Trump’s visceral hostility toward China could reinforce deterrence in the Taiwan Strait. Yet his disdain for alliances and penchant for transactional bargaining threaten to erode what Taiwan needs most: a reliable US commitment. Taiwan’s security depends less on US power than on US reliability, but Trump is undermining the latter. Deterrence without credibility is a hollow shield. Trump’s China policy in his second term has oscillated wildly between confrontation and conciliation. One day, he threatens Beijing with “massive” tariffs and calls China America’s “greatest geopolitical
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) made the astonishing assertion during an interview with Germany’s Deutsche Welle, published on Friday last week, that Russian President Vladimir Putin is not a dictator. She also essentially absolved Putin of blame for initiating the war in Ukraine. Commentators have since listed the reasons that Cheng’s assertion was not only absurd, but bordered on dangerous. Her claim is certainly absurd to the extent that there is no need to discuss the substance of it: It would be far more useful to assess what drove her to make the point and stick so
The central bank has launched a redesign of the New Taiwan dollar banknotes, prompting questions from Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislators — “Are we not promoting digital payments? Why spend NT$5 billion on a redesign?” Many assume that cash will disappear in the digital age, but they forget that it represents the ultimate trust in the system. Banknotes do not become obsolete, they do not crash, they cannot be frozen and they leave no record of transactions. They remain the cleanest means of exchange in a free society. In a fully digitized world, every purchase, donation and action leaves behind data.
Yesterday, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), once the dominant political party in Taiwan and the historic bearer of Chinese republicanism, officially crowned Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) as its chairwoman. A former advocate for Taiwanese independence turned Beijing-leaning firebrand, Cheng represents the KMT’s latest metamorphosis — not toward modernity, moderation or vision, but toward denial, distortion and decline. In an interview with Deutsche Welle that has now gone viral, Cheng declared with an unsettling confidence that Russian President Vladimir Putin is “not a dictator,” but rather a “democratically elected leader.” She went on to lecture the German journalist that Russia had been “democratized
RSS