Two science-fiction fans endeavor to liberate
Taiwan's dream of things to come.
In 2002, students at National Tsing Hua University who talked about taking a new science-fiction course were often met with incredulous stares from their peers. The three-credit course, Introduction to Science Fiction, explores how science fiction reflects a culture's dreams for the future. Word of the class and the professors' unique teaching methods spread quickly, and the students relished the opportunity to spar with their professors over episodes of Star Trek and Japan's obsession with robots.
Students who have completed the course gush with enthusiasm about their days in the classroom, making what was at first an oddity into a campus phenomenon. "The teachers are incredible," says Hung Ta-che, a human science and sociology student who took the course in Fall 2004. "They know everything there is to know about sci-fi."
The course at National Tsing Hua University was put together by Yeh Lee-hwa , a physicist at the Graduate Institute of Architecture at National Chiao Tung University (NCTU), and Arthur Cheng, one of an 18-member creativity lab team at the Indus trial Technology Research Institute in Hsinchu.
Although Hung completed the course last year, he is sitting in again this semester with five of his friends. And they are not the only ones, as the 60 available seats are hotly contested. "This class encourages critical thinking," he says. Students are welcome to challenge the speakers and this interaction helps students see things from different perspectives. "We grew up with Japanese comic books and Hollywood movies without giving a thought to what was behind them," Hung says. "They pose questions that often come to me as a shock. The cultural implications and influences behind what I read and see never crossed my mind before I took this class. It never occurred to me that many materials our parents discouraged us from looking at could be a subject of study."
Although its two lecturers are from backgrounds as diverse as architecture and physics, the cultural aspect of the course content is what interests them both. Cheng believes that science fiction pushes the development of real science, not because it provides answers, but because it reflects a culture's ideas of what can happen and gives that vision direction. "Japan is doubtless the 'robot kingdom' of the world," he says. "Many Japanese scientists have said that they were inspired by the sci-fi comic Atom to create humanoid robots. Simply put, sci-fi lays down a cultural foundation of possibility."
Yeh, on the other hand, believes science fiction can stimulate critical thinking and wants the public to give due respect to the genre. "I emphasize the popular science angle. I have no intention of scaring the students off with scientific formulas or obscure jargon."
In Taiwan, however, Cheng points out that fantasy, scientific or otherwise, has long been considered culturally deleterious. For this reason, it has been treated with contempt. "If a culture is to find its own path in the development of technology and science, it cannot rely solely on engineers," he says. "Taiwan has plenty of good engineers; they contribute to the quality of manufacturers, so our industries are strong. But this is like walking on one foot; it's unstable, and you're not going to get very far. We need another foot so we can walk steadily into the future; this foot has to be cultural strength. I believe we need to rely on our scientific imagination to shore up this footing."
The science fiction course at Tsing Hua is the fruition of many years work creating and promoting science fiction. "Science fiction interested me long before science did," Yeh says. "In fact, I only made up my mind to become a scientist because of my love for science fiction." He first encountered science in the 1966 movie adaptation of Isaac Asimov's Fantastic Voyage, in which a medical team was miniaturized and sent into a human body to cure disease. Fascinated by the possibilities presented by science, he became obsessed with sci-fi films, TV programs, novels and comics.
In 1978, Yeh, then a high-school freshman, came upon a newspaper serial by Ni Kuang. The Hong Kong writer achieved fame among Chinese-language readers with the series The Legend of Wesley, which later was adapted to film. Although the series and Ni's later works rely on inexplicable phenomena rather than scientific extrapolation for their story lines, they nevertheless earned Ni the title as the first "sci-fi guru" writing in Chinese. Yeh was one of Ni's most enthusiastic fans, following his stories closely and making detailed notes, which he finally presented to Ni in person years later in Taiwan. Ni retired to San Francisco in 1992, where Yeh was doing his Ph. D. in physics at UC Berkeley. For more than four years Yeh paid him frequent visits, and they became close friends.
Yeh then began to translate iconic science fiction, such as Asimov's Foundation and The Positronic Man, into Chinese. He ignored Ni's prodding to write his own science fiction, protesting that his time would be better spent introducing classic foreign works to Chinese-language readers. So in four years he translated more than 20 books, not all of which were published.
Ni and Taiwanese writer Chang Hsi-kuo were the doyens of what amounted to the peak of the Chinese-language science fiction genre in the 1980s. Chang established an award for the best science fiction novel, and Yeh submitted entries to the contest for three consecutive years until he won in 1989, the last year the competition was held. Eventually the number of writers decreased, their readership diminished and the market in turn withered. The proliferation of computer games and the Internet also contributed to the genre's decline.
Encouraged by Ni, Yeh returned to Taiwan in 1997 and made reviving science fiction his mission. He began teaching science fiction at universities and setting up networks of science-fiction fans.
"I see the teaching of science fiction as a social responsibility," he says. Meanwhile, he began revising his translations and writing about science fiction for the Chinese-language version of the magazine Popular Science. In 2001, with the support of NCTU, he formed the Center for SF Studies and established the Ni Kuang SF Writing Competition.
The first competition attracted more than 400 entries vying for awards totaling NT$610,000 (US$20,000). The number of entries and the monetary value of prizes continued to grow over the next few years, and in 2004 more than 1,000 writers entered. Happy with the competition's growth and the increasing popularity of the genre, Yeh was still adamant about elevating its academic status as well. He organized a series of lectures, each focusing on one subject. The eight participants would give free speeches by invitation. The group has delivered more than 60 lectures so far and hopes to bring that number up to 200. The National Science Council has shown its support by announcing the winners of its popular science awards along with those of the SF Writing Competition.
Back in the lecture theater, Cheng has no option but to rely mostly on Japanese and US material as teaching resources for the course. "God knows how much I wish I could tell students about our dreams of our own future," he says. "But they don't exist. The dreams of other cultures are educating our children. This is what really worries me."
Indeed, it was this concern that brought Cheng and Yeh together. They believe that Taiwanese are averse to the imaginative side of their culture because they prefer the safety of the well-traveled road. "If we don't risk making mistakes with imagining science fiction, we'll always be followers," Cheng says.
Cheng and Yeh are hoping to encourage boldness in young people, the boldness to break free from unnecessary constraints and imported influences, to make mistakes and dream their own future. Lee Jyh-arng, winner of the 2001 SF Writing Competition, offers such promise. His latest piece, The Multiverse , has been translated into English and his positivity is infectious. "The amazing thing about sci-fi writing is that you imagine science, but there's this chance that it may come true someday."
Frightening Bliss
Frightening Bliss won the 2001 Ni Kuang SF Writing
Competition. This is an excerpt from a satirical piece on
bliss in a hypocritical society deluged by advertisements.
BY LEE JYH-ARNG
Messages, electromagnetic waves, long journeys; endless light can never be surpassed.
The world has always been like this.
In thousands of light years when future generations colonize the galaxies, messages take on a life of their own. They leap from one fixed star to another, shuttling between the galaxies in an instant. They multiply in shifting star systems until they drown among their kind and are lost in the chaos of the Second Law.
Humanity itself must fear being lost in such a way. It must be brilliant in the endless sky. Like the messages, it must assert itself in the timeless struggle for survival across the universe. Although space knows no time and coincidence is difficult to define, senders' thoughts in messages are deleted mercilessly without end.
Fortunately, people are always thinking important thoughts, which are spread from one planet to another, from one group to another as the story goes. If these messages convey personal warmth, their worth is even greater.
A little boy from the Pioneer star system wrote this message and it ricocheted through 50 star systems until it landed on the desk of the prime minister of the Stellar Alliance.
Dear Stellar Alliance Prime Minister Monka,
Thank you for reading this letter. My name is Her and I am from Planet No. 5 in the Pioneer star system. I am seven years old. Even though I am an only child, I have many friends. My neighbor Luya also takes good care of me. I have always been happy.
But, I am really lonely now because all my playmates have gone. Can the prime minister send someone to play with me?
We make ads for star systems here. Nothing ever changes much. But in the past few years, lots of trash came from nowhere and all my friends moved away. Even Luya, who cares the most for me, has left. I am so sad when I see my parents. They are worried but they don't want to leave because they love this place.
Please help me.
Expectantly, Her
After finishing the letter, the pale, dark-eyed prime minister looked at his staff, smiling and waiting for advice.
"There are thousands of reasons for a changing environment. This child could be wrong."
"We can't rule out the possibility that the waste problem has been exaggerated. This letter has been forwarded numerous times."
"A message can be sent directly to the capital. Why did it pass through so many hands? Its credibility is undermined."
"The Pioneer star system is one of the 25 founding members of the Stellar Alliance. It is highly autonomous. It would be inappropriate to interfere in its domestic affairs in such a way."
"We shouldn't spend so much energy on a child's letter"
The staff were quick to express their almost unanimous opinions. The prime minister simply thanked them and said, "You have all spoken well. You speak so that your opinions are heard?"
The staff nodded in affirmation. A few who know the prime minister well have already sensed the outcome.
"I believe Her is like all of you and speaks to be heard. We will send an investigator immediately. Who is the best man for the job?"
Stellar Alliance Investigator Kaiwan Dalu received his order and departed for the distant Pioneer star system. The prime minister's reply to Her left even earlier.
Dear Her,
I have gladly received your letter and read it carefully.
When you receive this letter, your new friend Kaiwan Dalu will already be on his way. He is a big healthy boy with dark hair. An able sportsman, he is especially good at javelin and football. He majored in history so he is a great story teller.
Kaiwan will be your neighbor and has my full authority to take care of your garbage problem.
I hope you enjoy your time together.
Stellar Alliance
Prime Minister Monka Chou
The Star Navigator is light and agile. The materials used to build it have a mass-to-volume ratio of less than 0.2. Mankind continues to pursue levity, whether in interstellar jump carriers or domestic cruisers. Such invention has realized the dream of the light life. Yet the emptiness, confusion and sadness in the hearts of men only grows heavier.
Copyright (c) 2001 by Lee Jyh-arng.
English translation (c) 2005 by Myra Lu and
William Meldrum.