Gods, ghosts, and spirits are part of the Taiwanese’s life. If I am asked about the memory of Taiwan, I think of Chinese New Year, Lantern Festival, Tomb Sweeping Day, Moon Festival, and ghost month. I recall that we pray to tiangung (the God of Heaven or Jade Emperor), land gods, Buddhist bodhisattva, ancestors and even those wandering ghosts for the well-being of the whole family. We are warned that do not talk ill of the dead or do not stick the chopsticks straight in a bowl of rice like the incense in a temple. We are encouraged to share our bitterness, our confusion or wishes with those supernatural existences, and hope they may respond as we place some tributes before them for exchange. The smell of incense became my nostalgia while I was away.
However, as I grow older, those reasons my parents or grandparents used to tell me about why we should pray slowly blur and become whispers, which may, very likely, disappear eventually in the stream of modern technology and science. I feel that I am pushed forwards by the Internet and the influence of multinational cultures. Much of my attention is on global news, Greek mythology, histories of other nations, or on the possibilities where this world leads me to. When it comes to traveling, places outside Taiwan usually first come up to my mind first. Taiwan is small, but there are still so many places I haven’t been, so many people I haven’t seen and met. I believe if I can indulge myself in Japanese Kaidan, I’d like to devote as much passion to my own country. This is the cause why 唯妖論 caught my eyes right away when I scanned through the titles on the bookshelf of Eslite.
The book collects many stories I have never heard of. Maybe it is because I’d spent much of my life in Taoyuan, and I didn’t even know how to appreciate the land, the scene, and the culture of my homeland when I was little. It includes some famous ones: Chen Shou-niang, Shi-ye, Tiger Aunt (Hu Gu-po), shui-gui (water ghosts), and other local and aboriginal ones: the King of Qie-Dong, the Giant Alikakay, the Ikulun, and the Red Eye Palji. Everything has been so natural to me. I didn’t know why I need to question and learn more about it. Reading this book gives me more ideas about what I want to see when I set out for a short relaxing trip. I want to remember more names, see more places, learn more stories that are related to the Taiwanese and their origin. And then, I will know where our confidence seats.