WISDOM OF SAGES By Wu Wang Heng-ling
China Post, Taipei 304 pages, 1972, US$5
Reviewed by Geraldine Fitch
We have in this book a unique format. Stories known to the Chinese but unknown to Westerners and based on Chinese proverbs, aphorisms and witticisms are retold in English, illustrated with a drawing appropriate to each, and concluded with application of the story to the gist of the saying. In fact, “Chinese sayings” would encompass the truisms illustrated by the stories. The artist’s sketches are appropriate; the stories are short and to the point; and the application to the saying is succinct and satisfying, often including a touch of humor. Having known the author in Taipei, this reviewer knows her apologetic attitude toward use of the English language. Readers will agree with me, I am sure, when I say the stories are told in charming and fluent English. So true is this that the thought comes to mind: Why should the book not be republished in the United States as a volume of stories about China for American children? Through the fables and parables based on the sayings of Chinese sages, American youngsters would learn a great deal about the customs of China and the wisdom of China’s wise men other than Confucius, whose aphorisms are already somewhat familiar to Americans. This example will indicate the charm and interest of the stories: An Official of Ch’u There was once an official of Ch’u, who accidentally dropped his sword into the river in crossing. The boatman stopped the boat immediately, thinking that he would be asked to retrieve the sword. But the Ch’u official merely stopped there watching the sword sink down to the river-bed. “You can row on now”, said he, after carefully carving a notch on the side of the boat where the sword had fallen off. “But, honored sir, don’t you want your valuable sword any more?” asked the boatman. “Of course I do. But I don’t have time to retrieve it now,” said the official. “I’ll soon be coming here again then I’ll have lots of time to retrieve my sword.” “But, honored sir, if you don’t take up your sword now, how are you going to find it when you return?” asked the boatman with curiosity. “Oh, that’s no problem,” said the official patronizingly, pointing to the notch he had carved on the side of the boat. “I’ve marked the place where it fell off, you know.” “Oh?” evidently the boatman was puzzled, for he stared at the official, with his mouth agape. “Oh, it’s all right. My sword with its watertight sheath won’t rust easily and your boat will be here when I return. By the mark I make on your boat, I’ll know where to look for my sword. Right now I’m pressed for time. So you had better row on now.” “But, honored sir, the mark on the boat... ” “Say no more, please row on now,” the official’s voice dropped with exasperation. The boatman swallowed hard to stifle the laughter that threatened to break forth. He must not be impolite to a learned man like this official of Ch’u. But he could not help looking regretfully at the river. If the sword was left at the bottom of the river, the current would shift it about and it could never be found again. It would have been easy for him to have retrieved the sword now. What a shame to throwaway such a valuable sword for no reason. As to marking the boat for the location of the lost sword ... how could anyone be that silly? Truly scholars were a strange breed. The boatman suddenly could contain himself no longer. He burst out laughing uncontrollably, much to the Ch’u official’s surprise. When the boat touched the shore, the Ch’u official hurried off after giving repeated instructions to the boatman to be sure to wait for his return three days later, so that he could retrieve his sword. True to his word, he was back in exactly three days. But much to his disappointment he could not find his sword. The notch carved on the boat was of no help at all. NOTE: Carving the boat for finding the sword is used to describe the type of man who is self-righteous and obstinate. e.g. Your advice would not be any use to him, for he is a stubborn sort of man.
FREE CHINA ON TAIWAN By Han Lih-wu
Hua Kuo, Taipei 1972, 190 pp., NT$80
Reviewed by Yang Ming-che
Han Lih-wu is one of the most distinguished members of the Republic of China’s diplomatic crops. He served as ambassador in Thailand, the Philippines and Greece, and also has been an educator. More than 20 years ago, he saw the need for a brief introduction to the Republic of China’s island province of Taiwan. The result was “Taiwan Today,” which has now been revised for the sixth time and reissued as “Free China on Taiwan.” The scope is large for a work of such modest size. Ambassador Han opens with a general survey, then whisks the reader through data on politics and society and so into finance. Agriculture and industry receive their due with plenty of cables. Then come communications (including transportation) and education. A concluding chapter discusses “The Real China” of the Confucian ethic and its continuing struggle against Communist usurpers and imposters. Timeliness is all-important in such a book. The author does not disappoint those who seek the latest statistics. Everything is brought down to 1972. Now that Ambassador Han is home from Athens, it may be hoped that he will see to annual revision of a book which neither newcomers nor “old Taiwan hands” should be without. The general survey opens with a sketch of Taiwan’s fascinating history. Japanese are given credit for working hard to make Taiwan “a profitable and useful colony” which was ever and always “subservient to Japanese needs.” “The machinery of government was firmly in Japanese hands,” Ambassador Han writes. “The people of Taiwan were forced into education and literacy, but only as subjects, and the direction of education was to produce docile subjects capable of producing the most for Japan... In the first class service under the Governor, there was only one local man out of 109. In the second class rating, totaling 2,226 persons, only 7% were local men.” After half a century of Japanese rule, Taiwan was producing only a quarter of its rice requirement. War strains and damage had reduced the output of sugar, electrical power and nearly everything else. Han Lih-wu points out some of the achievements which were recorded during the subsequent quarter century of free Chinese administration. He takes note that in October, 1972, Walter P. McConaughy, the U.S. ambassador to the Republic of China, predicted that Taiwan would reach the US$10 billion level of foreign trade by 1976. Reviewing political and social conditions, the author simplifies the complications of national, provincial and local levels of government. He notes the difference between Japanese and Chinese handling of Taiwan’s mountain people. The offshore islands of Kinmen (Quemoy) and Matsu are given sections of a chapter. A table on birth and death rates notes that the former fell from a high of 48.97 per 1,000 in 1951 to 27.16 in 1970, while the latter went down from the 17.57 of 1947 to 4.90 in 1970. Every chapter is packed with facts. Yet these are presented in a narrative form that maintains interest and permits the author to offer commentary. The detailing of agriculture explains land reform and contrasts this with the expropriation on the mainland. Taiwan has been described as China’s model province largely because of industrial progress. In the chapter on industry, Ambassador Han deals with the war damage inherited by the Chinese government in 1945, U.S. aid, promotion of private enterprise and development of an export spirit similar to that which boosted Japan to third rank among the world’s industrial powers. He then takes up progress in power, coal, food processing, sugar, salt, textiles, timber, paper, chemicals, fertilizer, petroleum, plastics, pharmaceuticals, rubber, cosmetics, cement, glass, nonferrous metals, iron and steel, machinery, electrical appliances and apparatus, shipbuilding, automobiles, handicrafts and other industries. A great deal is packed into few words. Modern states are known — or should be — by their educational systems. In 1945, only 71 per cent of Taiwan children aged 6 to 12 were in school. The figure for Japanese children was 95 per cent. Today’s figure for the children of free China is just a shade under 99 per cent. In 1944, only 12,816 Chinese pupils were attending middle schools, compared with more than 16,000 Japanese, although the latter made up only a small fraction of the population. Tables are included for various levels of education. Han Lih-wu’s chapter on “The Real China” is one of the shortest in the book. It is also one of the most interesting and informative. In his opinion, the Chinese culture of Confucius “as reinforced and enriched by Dr. Sun Yat-sen” faces a trial of unprecedented severity. Chinese humanism faces dogmatic and un-Chinese Communism. “This is no ordinary crisis,” Dr. Han observes. “Shut behind the bamboo curtain, the older generation is being brainwashed and eliminated, the younger generation indoctrinated and regimented. History is being rewritten. Textbooks are made to order. Freedom of expression not only does not exist; there is not even the freedom of silence.” On Taiwan, however, the fires of Chinese culture are burning bright. The Chinese Communists are doomed to failure on two counts: the ever higher standard of living of the Republic of China and the increasing personal freedoms of those Chinese who are free. These, Ambassador Han believes, are “the two universal yearnings and demands of the common people.” Han Lih-wu’s small book is interesting and useful. It is available at all local shops selling books in English. There is even a dividend. This is a tome which is wholly legitimate and not polluted by piracy; it may be freely sent through the mails to friends anywhere in the free world.
RECOLLECTIONS OF A FLOATING LIFE By Patrick Pichi Sun
Privately printed, no price 1972
Reviewed by William Chou
If you get into trouble with an American policeman, it is well to be named Patrick. Patrick Pichi Sun knows this from experience, and he has summed up a rich life in this pleasant little book. At the age of 64, he is young of heart and intent upon what life has in store at the next turn of the wheel. He spent 41 years in the foreign service of the Republic of China, traveled the world and represented his country in such lands as Malaya, the Philippines, Thailand, the United States and Jamaica. “Living through the most turbulent period in Chinese history,” he writes, “I was personally and directly affected by revolutions, civil wars, riots, foreign invasions, Communist uprisings and natural calamities which followed one another. With the blessings of Providence, I have survived all the perils... “In worldly possession, I regret to say that ‘in life I have not even enough ground to stick an awl,’ and ‘in death I have not a place to bury my body... I may be poor in material wealth but I feel rich in the affection of a happy family, in the warmth of a wide circle of international friends, and in the memory of experiences of an interesting and exciting life.” Patrick Pichi Sun is a hail fellow well met and there is about him the spirit, if not the wherewithal, of a bon vivant. He cannot be said to have led the good life but he can and does say that life has been good to him. He likes people and he enjoys living and his work. He is immensely proud of his country and his Chineseness, yet he is far from a chauvinist. His book literally drips with names but there is no tiniest taste of venom. If he met and dealt with people he did not like, there is no evidence of that to be found here. He is at one with those who preach that if you cannot say something good about someone, do not say anything at all. Ambassador Sun writes well but is not a professional writer. On occasion his lists of people and chronicling of events are reminiscent of a catalog. This is, however, one of the charms of his book. He is not putting on airs or pretending to be anything he is not. The importance of the Chinese family system pervades the account of Patrick Pichi Sun’s 64 years. This is not merely a matter of his own wife and four children, but also of his father and grandfather. He loved his father deeply and his account of the latter’s death and traditional funeral is deeply touching. His first diplomatic post was the lowest that was to be found in the San Francisco consulate general of the early 1930s. He took courses at Stanford University to further his chosen specialty of economics — and became an ardent follower of American football. He recalls the great “Vow Boy” teams of that university and saw Stanford “trounced” by Alabama in the Rose Bowl. As a footnote of “it’s a small world” dimension, this reviewer also saw that game. The year was 1935 and the score was 29 to 13. Amusingly, it was this same year of 1935 in which “another event occurred which was of major importance in my life.” He met the future Mrs. Sun! No long afterward, he was discovering that two do not necessarily live as cheaply as one. He moonlighted at teaching and translating to eke a living. Hollywood was one of the San Francisco consulate general’s headaches. Moviemakers discovered China in the 1930s and a succession of films on China and the Chinatowns of the world poured out of various studios. Many of them were insulting or travesties or worse. Protests were entered and suggestions made. In many cases, the film moguls were persuaded to make changes which led to a more honest and presentable Chinese image. As a higher level diplomat, Ambassador Sun had the pleasure of helping to improve relations between the Republic of China and both the Philippines and Thailand. He also put in his share of time at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and enjoyed every minute of it, even to taking care of his own formalities of household registration and the like. Diplomat or no, he is no admirer of bureaucratic red tape. He drops more than one remark to indicate his impatience with excessive and unnecessary paper work. There are 24 pages of pictures of snapshot quality but these are worth looking at. They not only show the autobiographer and his family in a variety of poses but also identify some of the great and near-great in Patrick Pichi Sun’s fascinating world. We don’t know how many copies of the book Ambassador Sun had printed, nor what a stranger might have to do to get a copy. But he makes no secret of his address. It is still care of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Republic of China, Taipei, Taiwan. If the gentle heart and kindly soul shining forth from these pages are any criterion, copies of the book will be forthcoming for any interested reader’s asking as long as the supply lasts. With full awareness that he was producing no masterpiece, Patrick Pichi Sun wrote this book to be read.
A SECRET WAR By Oliver J. Caldwell
Southern Illinois U. Press, Carbondale, III. 1972, 218 pp., US$5.95
Reviewed by Charles C. Clayton
Oliver J. Caldwell, now dean of International Services at Southern Illinois University, is the son of a Methodist missionary. He was born in China and received most of his elementary and secondary education on the mainland before attending college in the United States. He returned to China to serve as professor of English at Amoy University and later at the University of Nanking. For several years he was a secretary for the Associated Boards for Christian Colleges in China. He enlisted in the United States Army shortly after Pearl Harbor and was sent to China. His first assignment was as a Civil Affairs Officer. In 1944 and 1945 he served in the Office of Strategic Services. This book sets forth his memories of the war years and his judgment about leaders in the China theater of war, both Americans and Chinese. He is critical of both. His comments make interesting reading and frequently are controversial. The complete history of World War II in China has not been written. Those who have written about the United States in China during that period tend to appraise the events and the decisions on a basis of their own participation. They seek to justify their actions rather than to put the facts in proper perspective. Both the Chinese and American counterparts erred at times. There was mistrust and misunderstanding. If Dr. Caldwell is critical of some of the leaders of the Republic of China and the Kuomintang, he is even more caustic about the military men the United States sent to China. For example, he writes of General “Vinegar” Joe Stilwell: “I have not gone into the problems arising from Stilwell’s personality. I supported him as well as I could while he was our commanding officer... but I believe Stilwell was largely responsible for his own failure. Printed excerpts from his journal have convinced me that he did not really like the Chinese people.” He is also critical of Commodore Milton Miles, the U.S. Navy intelligence head in the China theater. For a time Commodore Miles headed both the Sino-American Cooperative Organization and the Office of Strategic Services. Later the two intelligence branches were separated and Dr. Caldwell writes that “it was hard to believe SACO and OSS were fighting the same war.” President Chiang Kai-shek, the author writes, must be given credit for “the enormous material progress which took place in China between 1927 and 1937 under his leadership. The Japanese attacked China in 1937 to destroy a potential rival. During the 1930s, industrial capitalism grew so fast in China as to pose a real challenge to Japanese dominance in Asia. By attacking Chiang’s China, Japan succeeded in destroying one rival but helped to create a much more dangerous one-the China of Mao Tse-tung.” The author’s comments on the Maoists are significant. He was assigned to Mao’s forces in Sian for a time and had the opportunity to study them first hand. He notes: “I am convinced that international Communism had not abandoned its basic Marxist goal of a world revolution, which will open the door to world communism... I understand too well that to them ‘coexistence’ is merely a peaceful interval which precedes the final collapse of capitalism.” One of the interesting chapters discusses the various secret societies which existed in China, including the Ko Lao Hui, the Red Circle and the Green Circle. The Green Circle, he explains, was the largest and operated in the Yangtze Valley. The author contends that not enough use was made of these powerful groups in waging guerrilla war against the Japanese. Some of Dr. Caldwell’s personal prejudices are evident in his story. His Methodist missionary background shows up, for example, when he is critical of American officers who insisted on visiting Chinese brothels, who insulted Chinese women on the streets and who too often were intoxicated in public. Such conduct, he notes, helped create antagonism toward the United States. In view of President Nixon’s visit to Peiping, Dr. Caldwell’s comment on Asian affairs is worth noting. He writes: “It is extremely dangerous to act in Asia without a complete knowledge of the facts. It is essential that American policies should be based on a thorough knowledge of the economic, social and political realities. Unfortunately, we have consistently based our policies on ignorance and on wishful thinking... This has led us from one tragedy to another.” In a foreword, Dr. Caldwell explains that this book is the personal story “of an American born in China and in love with the Great Earth of his early years.” He describes himself as an “old China hand.” He speaks Mandarin fluently, as well as several dialects. During the war he had his share of moments of peril and frustration, as well as the satisfaction of serving both countries. He describes the making of an old China hand as involving years of exposure to painting, sculpture, porcelain, lacquer, bronzes and other objects of beauty which are peculiarly Chinese. “More than anything else”, he adds, “it requires many years of deep friendship with people to whom friendship is sacred and permanent.” His story is purposely episodic and it deals with some aspects of the war years which have been largely ignored by others. There is no attempt to put the events of which he writes in any overall perspective. He urges a better understanding of the Chinese people. Those in Taiwan who lived through the war years in China will find many familiar names in Dr. Caldwell’s story. Among the Americans are General William Donovan, General Patrick Hurley, John Service and General Albert Wedemeyer. There are intimate glimpses of many of the Chinese leaders, including most of the generals. From 1946 to 1952 Dr. Caldwell worked in the Department of Cultural Affairs in the U.S. Department of State and served as assistant commissioner for International Education from 1952 to 1965. He was chairman of the American delegation to the Conference on Public Education, sponsored by UNESCO. He joined the faculty of Southern Illinois University in 1966.