Lai Ho: The Father of Taiwan's New Literature

In May of this year, the Lai Ho Foundation, located in Changhua, celebrated the 100th birthday of Lai, "the Father of Taiwan's New Literature." They put on a memorial concert, a play, and a touring audio-visual exhibition. "In search of Lai Ho" became a much-discussed topic.

It's a little like opening a dust-covered old trunk with all the family heirlooms. Or perhaps it is like an obscure and bittersweet memory. Who was Lai Ho? "Today, if you ask ten university students this question, nine of them will say they don't know," Lin Jui-ming, an associate professor of history at Chengkung University sadly says.

Why is it that Lai Ho, already deemed the "Father of Taiwan's New Literature" by history, would be forgotten just at this juncture, when authors who learned from him and succeeded him (like Yang Kuei and Chung Li-ho) are having their works published one after the other, and when the "nativist movement" to love and understand Taiwan for its own sake has become the most dynamic force in society?

A handwritten draft of poetry by Lai Ho. The poem attacks the Japanese for the massacre of the residents of Wushe.

Leading the New Literature Movement

Lai Ho used a number of pen names, including Pu San, Tsou Chieh-hsien, and Lan Yun. Lai was born in Changhua in 1894, the year the Sino Japanese War (after which Taiwan was ceded to Japan) broke out. He died in 1943. His life coincided almost exactly with the period of the Japanese occupation (which ended in 1945).

Lai Ho was born into a family that was part of the "little tradition" of folk or popular customs. His grandfather was an itinerant musician who played at weddings and funerals, while his father was a Taoist priest. But his grandfather and father, much concerned about the education of their children, sent Lai Ho to a private Chinese academy to study Chinese when he was ten. Later, under Japanese government policy, he entered a Japanese public school. At 16, Lai passed the examination to enter Taipei Medical School (now the National Taiwan University School of Medicine), where he received his specialized training. You could say that Lai's education combined traditional culture with modern knowledge.

The historical Lai Ho made his greatest contribution in leading the New Literature Movement in Japanese-occupied Taiwan. This is the starting point from which all who have followed him must begin to understand and know him.

The New Literature Movement in Taiwan was similar to the New Literature Movement in mainland China, which was part of the May Fourth Movement of national rejuvenation and anti-colonialism. Briefly described, in 1920, during the middle period of the Japanese occupation, Lai Ho and other cultural activists also sharing a foundation in traditional Chinese education began to use the vernacular to write poetry and essays.

On the one hand, through the vernacular they hoped to educate and inspire the common people, and on the other they wished to express the feelings of the people under Japanese rule as a concrete method of "non-violent resistance to Japan."

A Lai Ho family photo, circa 1924. Lai Ho is second from the left in the back row. Fourth from the left is Lai Tien-sung. Lai Ho's wife is seated at the far left in the middle row, and holds their third son Lai Shen. （photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum）

Planting the first seed

Taiwan had already been under Japanese rule for nearly 25 years when this new literary style got started. "The New Literature authors of that period, like Lai Ho, had only had perhaps a brief period of private Chinese education in early childhood. Most of their education was in Japanese. So soon after the May Fourth movement had begun, for them to produce new literature in Chinese, and to produce some very fine work at that, was really an admirable feat," says Li Nan-heng, director of the Ming Tan Publishing Company. In 1978 and 1979 Li scoured the whole island collecting materials on literary history, finally compiling The Complete Works of Lai Ho and five other volumes.

Lin Jui-ming points out that in 1919 and 1920, Lai Ho served as a medical officer in the Po Ai Hospital in Xiamen. That happened to be the peak of the May Fourth Movement and anti-Japanese sentiment. After returning from Xiamen, Lai wrote continuously, in the vernacular, in a notebook made for writing traditional poetry. You can see that he was greatly affected by the May Fourth Movement.

Taiwan historian Chang Heng-hao, noting that Taiwan's New Literature Movement began in 1920, says that Lai Ho was a pioneer who "turned over the first spade of dirt, and planted the first seed." In 1925, then 32, Lai issued his first book of vernacular pieces (Untitled), his first new poem ("Sacrifice in Awakening--Dedicated to Our Comrades of the Two Lins Incident"), and his first vernacular novel (Join the Bustling Crowd). He continued producing poetry, novels, and miscellaneous essays until he was 43. This collection of writings became the core of the "developmental period" or "creative period" of Taiwan's New Literature.

The Lai Ho Memorial Museum's collection of 1930s magazines is precious; some of them are the only extant copies of certain issues in all of Taiwan.

Let them trample as they will

Piles of cigarettes, fine wine flowing like the Huai River

My brothers of Toushih

Pulling the oars--slowly, slowly now

The boat moves slowly through the grass clogged water

Without regret on a somewhat circuitous path

This was in 1922. It shows Lai Ho's form, inserting vernacular, which he displayed after returning from Xiamen. To a trained Chinese eye, it is clearly an early composition. Turn now to his 1923 composition "Grass," written on the eve of his jailing for the "Pacification Police Incident."

Spring is coming, on the grassy ground

Trampled by the oxen

Grass--will reappear!

Storing up limitless vitality!

Grass--lovingly, luxuriantly

Sprouting as if awakening!

It seems as if you address people, saying "What does it matter? Sprouts must sprout as always

The sweet dew accumulates; the warm breeze is blowing

When the time comes, our strength will show through

Let them trample as they will

We each have our fated duty.

The territory it explores and its implications are profound. As Lin Jui-ming explains, "Others can trample on us as they will, but we will not succumb. It is a strength born of 'awakening.' This is the sound of Lai Ho's heart, and also the voice of the people under the Japanese occupation."

"The tone of voice that Lai uses in his writing of vernacular poetry is basically the voice of the Chinese vernacular. Perhaps he could not speak fluent Mandarin Chinese with the standard Peking accent, but he certainly had some foundation," suggests Lin. This can be traced back to his study of correct Chinese pronunciation during his time in medical school and to the influence of his trip to Xiamen. His use of the vernacular also came through his reading of New Literature works of the time.

Today, in the Lai Ho Memorial Museum, located near the train station in Changhua, there is a collection of scattered issues of literary magazines from mainland China of the 1930s, such as Yu Ssu (Silken Words) and Wenhsueh Choukan (Literary Weekly). "These magazines used to be in the little room next to the examination room in Lai Ho's clinic. It was a little library, and a place that literary people in Changhua frequently passed through," says Lai's son Lai Shen.

The "Silent Garden" where Lai and his literary friends often met is now only inhabited by a single descendant of Chen Hsu-ku. The stately edifice looks a little lonely.

Taiwan's Lu Hsun

Coming from a humble background and influenced by the tide of Socialist thinking in the 1920s, Lai Ho very consciously "took the land and the people as the starting point" in writing his new literature, explains Lin Jui-ming. His works show unabashed sympathy for the common townsfolk, farmers, and shopkeepers. He criticized in a straightforward way the reality of Japanese exploitation of Taiwanese both politically and economically; he also criticized the dark aspects of the old society.

Take for example "The Balance." It is the story of a farmer who loses his land after falling ill. He borrows a gold hairpin from his relatives and pawns it for start-up money, then borrows a balance from his neighbors and goes into business. He offends a policeman on the street who says that his balance is not accurate. He is charged under the laws governing weights and measures, leading to a tragic ending.

"Bumper Crop" describes a cane farmer who wishes to win the company award for super productivity so that he can give the money to his son to marry. Through a year of onerous labor, he lives only for the harvest. But the sugar company at the last minute announces new harvest regulations, and alters the balance to cheat him, causing his dream to go up in smoke.

And then there is "Pitiful She Died." It relates the story of Ah Li, a wealthy man who, though he already has three wives, purchases the 17- or 18-year-old Ah Jin from her poverty-stricken family to serve as his toy for sadistic sex. This is because "it is ten times cheaper to buy a woman than to go to the whorehouse." Ah Jin eventually dies, but Ah Li's evil character is not mollified. Even before Ah Jin's demise, Ah Li has already commissioned someone to "help him to find a young girl to be his sadistic sex toy."

"In Lai Ho's novels, we see a group of the weak crushed under the old society of China, and common people squeezed under the laws of the Japanese colonial rulers. This was the era in which Lai lived, and he used literature to display it objectively," says Lin. "Compared to mainland writers of that era such as Lu Hsun, Lai Ho's works are in no way inferior."

A photo of Lai Ho and literary friends at Silent Garden. Lai is first at left in the back, while Chen Hsu-ku is the one holding the boy at center. It was taken in 1934. （photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum）

The Father of Taiwan's New Literature

Besides his literary accomplishments, another thing that is sorely missed about Lai Ho was his gracious and unselfish concern for the cultivation of others to come after him. He sponsored a series of periodicals for Taiwanese intellectuals of that time, including Taiwan Minbao (Taiwan People's News), Taiwan Hsin Minbao (The New Taiwan People's News) and Nan Yin (Voice of the South). In an as-yet-unexplored new literary world, he endeavored to forge a path forward. Other authors of Taiwan's New Literature at that time, such as Yang Shou-hui, Yang Kuei and so on, had support from Lai. The latter had his pen name chosen for him by Lai.

In 1943, in an article commemorating Lai Ho after his passing, Yang Shou-hui described the difficulties Lai encountered in running the Taiwan People's News: "He very nearly worked himself to death in this job. He did not spare any effort to carefully and individually edit drafts sent to him by others, and often revised more than half of the original submission. Often, he would just keep the plot but rewrite the text altogether."

"Lai Ho's contribution was very great toward making Taiwan's New Literature flourish as it has. Indeed, it would be even more appropriate to say he was the father, or the mother, of Taiwan's New Literature." So said Wang Shih-lang, also a New Literature author, in 1936 in her piece "On Lai Ho." Lai was already renowned as the Father of Taiwan's New Literature in his own lifetime.

Under Japanese rule, his writings focussed on the evils of the colonial system. And his insistence on using Chinese shows a powerful nationalistic consciousness. Add to this that he participated in Taiwan's first organized cultural group, the Taiwan Culture Association. Using his income from his medical practice, he supported all kinds of political and social movements. Naturally the Japanese authorities did not look kindly upon such behavior.

Lai was arrested on two occasions. The first time was in 1923, because of the "Pacification Police Incident," and the second was in 1942, when he was detained without charge.

Lai's second time in prison was nothing like his first, when he had the leisure to look out the window at the scenery, and "sleep and eat my fill, without loneliness, with my good friends the ravens in the trees." This time, because he had no idea when he would ever get out of prison, and he was anxious about his family's financial situation, he was depressed and melancholy. What was worse, he suffered heart disease while in jail.

"The second time he was arrested, he was able to ride a bicycle to answer the police summons. But when he got out, he was so weak that he had to be propped up," says Lai Shen. Lai died of a heart attack the year after he came out of prison, at the age of 50.

In 1923, Lai （front row, wearing the long jacket and with his arms crossed in front of his chest） was arrested following the "Pacification Police Incident." This photo of Lai and fellow prisoners （without hats） being met by friends （wearing hats） was taken in January of the following year. （photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum）

The spirit of Lai Ho lives on

The sun angles away to the west as colors fade to dusk

The intense heat dissipates

The arduousness of life does not last long

Turn your head back and the moon is in the east

This is a poem written when Lai was in seriously poor health. Lai entered prison just at the time of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, after which Japan fell into a bitter struggle which ended in disastrous failure. But Lai Ho, who lived a dedicated life, and who continued to use literature to resist the Japanese, did not live to see the crescendo of his era.

Lai's death produced sweeping regret in the literary world. Many wrote essays commemorating him, especially evoking his gentility and kindness, his writing, and his courage. After the end of the occupation, his reputation spread. Because of his anti-Japanese activities he was given a place in the Martyrs' Shrine.

But in 1958, Lai was secretly accused of being a Communist, and his name was removed from the Martyrs' Shrine, without his being convicted of any crime. It was not until 1983 that he was "rehabilitated." But this experience meant that for a long period the literary world was unwilling to discuss him.

Looking back from today at Lai Ho, besides being moved by the humanitarianism expressed in his writings, we can also see Lai's unbending spirit of resistance under the domination of another people.

This spirit has influenced many Taiwanese writers since that time, such as Yang Kuei and Wu Chuo-liu (author of The Orphan of Asia). It has even extended down into the "second generation" of post-war writers like Huang Chun-ming, Chen Ying-chen, and Wang Chen-ho.

The literary spirit of Lai Ho is not a thing of the past. But in "real life," the countless small contributions that Lai made in his time have remained even more firmly entrenched in the hearts of his fellow Changhua citizens.

Lai has left few examples of his calligraphy; this is one of them, written when he was seriously ill. （photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum）

A flourishing Silent Garden

"Old Doc Lai! Are you talking about that famous doctor, the one who was so charitable, the one who has already passed away? Who wouldn't know him?" The summer sun at dawn in central Taiwan is already scorching. The old man, just pulling up the steel door on his shop, responds to his visitor's question with great enthusiasm, "when we were small we all went to his clinic when we were ill."

As we travel along the road from Changhua City to Homei Township, Lu Hsing-jui, a teacher at Changhua High School who is a dedicated researcher of the New Literature Movement in Changhua, provides excited commentary. This road to Homei, with its famous residence "Silent Garden," 60 or 70 years ago was a place where the local literati, Lai Ho among them, would go for strolls.

"Silent Garden was located in Tutsuotsuo [today's Homei and Tsuoli]. It was the family home of the landlord Chen Hsu-ku. Chen was Lai Ho's companion in literature, and the two developed a close bond. They often interacted through poems and songs. The two of them joined together with a group of highly educated and politically aware writers to form the 'Ying Society.' They composed poetry to express their concerns about current events and their sympathy with the lives of the masses, and they also used this to carry on the Chinese cultural tradition. In those days the Ying Society's members frequently met at Silent Garden," explains Lu.

Having passed the tests of time, Silent Garden is today painted over in drab colors. The daughter-in-law of Chen Hsu-ku, who still watches over the old place, can't really recall Lai Ho's face clearly. "I just remember that in those days I would prepare everything for father-in-law to invite his literary friends to eat all day long. It was like a banquet, wave after wave," she describes. You can see how the literati flourished in Silent Garden in those days: "How pitiful you are, moon, having to shine your light for us as we search for poetry into the dead of night."

The people of Changhua remember Lai as a man with real strength of character. Wu Ching-tang and his wife, responding to questions from neighbors and friends, unhurriedly tell stories of Lai's benevolence.

Tearful remembrances

Another of Lai Ho's literary friends was Wu Ching-yang, also a major figure in the New Literature Movement. As soon as you mention the name Lai Ho, the eyes of the 85-year-old Wu glisten with tears before he can even get a word out.

"Lai Ho was a teacher, and he was also a friend." Because of illness, the old man speaks falteringly, and hasn't the strength to say very much. But most of the older generation in Changhua know the story of how Lai Ho saved Wu Ching-yang.

Wu's son Wu Cheng-feng says that when his dad is feeling up to it he often talks about Lai Ho, and feels very grateful toward him. "My father was imprisoned for resistance to the Japanese. While in jail he had a relapse of an old beriberi condition. Fortunately Lai Ho bailed him out, of he would have died in prison," relates Cheng-feng. "When father was released, Lai Ho had prepared a stretcher, and rushed him off to the clinic. After giving father an emergency injection, Lai called up the Japanese police and heaped verbal abuse on them: "How can you release a man only when he is on the verge of death!? Dad often says that Lai Ho saved his life."

A charitable and dedicated physician, a leader of the New Literature, and an anti-Japanese resistance figure--this is the Lai Ho the people of Changhua knew. When you travel through Lai's hometown, you can get a deep sense that the love and concern Lai Ho devoted to his land and his people was not given in vain. "Old Doc Lai" was a man worthy of his reputation.

[Picture Caption]

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The first impression most people got of Lai Ho was his Taiwanese clothing and moustache. Because he liked to wear Taiwanese clothing, the Japanese saw him as having an especially strong Taiwanese consciousness, which got him into trouble on several occasions. (photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum)

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A handwritten draft of poetry by Lai Ho. The poem attacks the Japanese for the massacre of the residents of Wushe.

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A Lai Ho family photo, circa 1924. Lai Ho is second from the left in the back row. Fourth from the left is Lai Tien-sung. Lai Ho's wife is seated at the far left in the middle row, and holds their third son Lai Shen. (photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum)

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The Lai Ho Memorial Museum's collection of 1930s magazines is precious; some of them are the only extant copies of certain issues in all of Taiwan.

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The "Silent Garden" where Lai and his literary friends often met is now only inhabited by a single descendant of Chen Hsu-ku. The stately edifice looks a little lonely.

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A photo of Lai Ho and literary friends at Silent Garden. Lai is first at left in the back, while Chen Hsu-ku is the one holding the boy at center. It was taken in 1934. (photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum)

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In 1923, Lai (front row, wearing the long jacket and with his arms crossed in front of his chest) was arrested following the "Pacification Police Incident." This photo of Lai and fellow prisoners (without hats) being met by friends (wearing hats) was taken in January of the following year. (photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum)

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Lai has left few examples of his calligraphy; this is one of them, written when he was seriously ill. (photo courtesy of the Lai Ho Memorial Museum)

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The people of Changhua remember Lai as a man with real strength of character. Wu Ching-tang and his wife, responding to questions from neighbors and friends, unhurriedly tell stories of Lai's benevolence.

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Lin Jui-ming of Chengkung University, who has been studying Lai Ho for a decade, is most aggrieved that Lai is virtually unknown among the youner generation.

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The Left Bank Theater put on an historical drama based on Lai's prison diary. (photo courtesy of the Left Bank Theater)

Lin Jui-ming of Chengkung University, who has been studying Lai Ho for a decade, is most aggrieved that Lai is virtually unknown among the youner generation.

The Left Bank Theater put on an historical drama based on Lai's prison diary. （photo courtesy of the Left Bank Theater）