by ChuckChen
10:20 a.m.: On most days I would be dozing off somewhere, but not today. Today I am fidgeting in the Chair’s office, waiting for her to speak. No, I’m not getting a lecture from her because I flunked drama (luckily), I am here for the sole purpose of interviewing her. Ever since she gave a short 20-minute pep talk to the new freshmen right before the semester started, I wanted to find out why she didn’t seem very friendly to students. And now I found myself in her office, nervous. But any impressions I had of her were immediately dispelled when she began speaking. Her informality was very comforting; she began by telling me that in fact she is married to Prof. Chiang Tai-fen’s (姜台芬) brother, and that Prof. Chiang is her sister-in-law! I then asked her about how her life has changed since she became Chair. She said that the main difference between being a professor-chair and just being a professor is all the extra administrative work, which requires 3 to 4 hours of extra work every day. Not to mention all the meetings. This really eats into her research and preparation time, she remarked, and it takes a long time to get used to. Then she began to tell me what she would like to do as Chair. She mentioned that the government was giving a 500-million-dollar subsidy to schools that can compete on an international level, to help them improve their the World College Rankings. The Dean of the College of Liberal Arts, Prof. Perng Ching-hsi, asked her to come up with a plan for our College. Prof. Chiu decided we should form a Translation Center and a Writing Clinic, and turn the evening division into a Master’s program that focused on translation and oral communication. Our regular M.A. program focuses on literature and cultural studies. She believes that such an institution will help elevate our department’s image in the eyes of the general public, because the new program would be devoted to practical English. Then there was a question that I had been itching to ask: why she did not seem to want close relationships with students. Prof. Chiu was a little surprised when I asked this, saying that she didn’t mean it that way. She told me that she wasn’t against student-teacher relationships, just that she thinks that peer relations are more important. From her view, in this stage of our lives we have already become adults, and we should be able to make decisions for ourselves. If we do have questions, we should go ask our peers first before going to professors, because our peers affect us a lot more than a professor, and after we graduate it is our peers who will have the most influence and impact on us. Therefore she holds that it is more important for us to develop peer relationships. However, she added that she welcomes students to come to her office, and not only in times of crisis. She told me that her office hours are from three to six in the afternoon on weekdays, and that students are welcome to come during those hours. After this long reply, I realized that I was totally mistaken in Prof. Chiu’s attitude toward students. She isn’t unfriendly to us at all, in fact she is glad to help with any problem. Then I asked her how she felt about our school and our students. She replied that when she was teaching Freshman English, the classes with students from other departments often gave her the most interesting experiences, because these students always saw things from different perspectives and were eager for discussion. She said that the main reason Taida is the top university in Taiwan is because of its students and faculty. Many other universities have the same amount of high-tech hardware, and some universities are larger. But Taida stands out because of its students and their creativity. Being in such a good school, said Prof. Chiu, students should grab every chance to learn as much as they can, either from their peers or their teachers. Nearing the end of the interview, I asked the Chair if she had any plans for retirement. She replied that she hadn’t even thought of what she might do after she retired. She wants to keep teaching for as long as she can because she loves it; she loves the students and it’s the best way for her to keep alive and energetic. Don’t ever leave us, Prof. Chiu. After we concluded and took some pictures she invited me and the photographer to lunch, but since both of us had class we said it would have to wait. This was the first interview I had ever done, and it also changed my view of the Chair and gave me a deeper understanding of our department and the importance of peer relationships. All in a days work…
0 Comments
By Steffi Liu
How many of you know that there is an orchestra in our school? The NTU Symphony Orchestra was founded in 1968 and has been in continuous operation for 35 years. Members of the orchestra are students of the university, who are not music majors but who all share the same passion for playing music. During the past 35 years the orchestra had worked with more then 16 conductors, all of them professional musicians. The present one is 67-year-old Mr. Chien, who recently retired from a career as a professional pianist and conductor in Germany. The symphony practices together once a week, while different sections also rehearse separately. The rehearsals are all concert-oriented. The orchestra plays a public concert at the end of every semester and tours every year during the summer break. In the past few years, the symphony has given performances all around the island and has also been invited to do an overseas tour in the United States in 1993. In addition, orchestra members also give a chamber music concert every semester inside the university. The symphony also participates in musical activities other than formal concerts; it has cooperated with other musical clubs such as the NTU chorus in a performance of the famous musical “Sunset Boulevard.” Although the orchestra is amateur, members take their roles seriously and devote themselves to their music. With the dedication of so many people, including former members and music directors, the NTU Symphony has continuously improved. In recent years, the orchestra has been giving frequent concerts at the National Concert Hall, where members have had wonderful experiences playing in a real concert venue. Do you love classical music? Why not join us for our next concert? By Inky Chang
Dancing the seductive Dance of the Seven Veils, Salome was promised anything she asked for. As soon as she finished her dance she asked for the head of John the Baptist. This story took place around 30 B.C. in Jerusalem. At that time Palestine was under the rule of a ruthless warlord, Herod, who became obsessed with the beautiful daughter of his brother’s widow, his own stepdaughter, Salome. Then into this kingdom of sin came a man righteous and true: the venerated prophet, John the Baptist. However, Salome’s mother despised John the Baptist because he dared to accuse her of adultery, so that she had the holy man imprisoned in the dungeon of the palace. One night, Salome happened to overhear John the Baptist’s voice, and fell immediately in love. With all her skill the Princess strove to seduce him, but John could not be moved. Shamed by his refusal, Salome’s affection changed into bitter hatred. Herod promised Salome that he would grant her anything she asked for, if only she would dance before his hungry eyes. The maddened princess agreed, and asked for John’s head in return. Herod was repulsed when he saw Salome kissing John’s severed head in a mad passion, and, in the end, she too was executed. “Salome” was made into an opera by Richard Strauss, based on a play by Oscar Wilde. The opera includes an enormous tapestry of musical instruments. It was first performed in Berlin and become one of the most often-performed operas in European theater. Strauss’s work is presented in the form of symphonic poems. Symphonic poems are based on symphonies, but there is only one movement. Strange notes played by clarinets begin the opera, and every character has his or her individual recurring melody. For example, the accompaniment for crazed Princess Salome is in C minor, which often brings gloomy feelings. On the other hand, in order to show John the Baptist’s pureness, Strauss uses a C major theme to suggest the overwhelming power of the prophet. The music for the Dance of the Seven Veils is especially well known, a masterpiece of human psychology and clear tonality. The Taipei Symphony Orchestra performed Salome this year from October 17th to 19th during the Taipei Music Festival. It was the first time that the Symphony performed the opera in its entirety, and it was also the first time for the opera to be presented in Taiwan. I was overwhelmed by the performance. Those living in Taipei are fortunate because we have a music festival every summer, which includes many different kind of performances–and, hopefully, great western operas like “Salome” will become a regular part of the lineup. By Joey Chung
I live in a dorm with three other guys, all of whom happen to belong to engineering departments. When I met them their first question upon hearing my name and department was, “There must be a ton of hot chicks in your department right? It must be great basically ‘swimming’ with girls every day.” The same questions, the same responses, and the same lopsided goofy grins that pop up on their faces. And this has happened to me and my fellow guy classmates almost every single time we meet another red-blooded male–to the point that we started taking notes, just exactly what these stereotypes and preconceptions were, and most importantly, what they meant towards our department. First off, what do guys, who make up around half of our school’s population, think of our department? After asking around (I’m sure the answer is very predictable without asking) the answer is: “Girls! Girls! And more Girls! They seem to be everywhere!” The shortest skirt, the most eye-catching top, or the prettiest face in a crowd, they think, is always from our department. “I would die to live in this gold mine, having so many to choose from!” It’s like the school’s bank for potential girlfriends, where everyone wishes one day to “withdraw” if possible! On the other hand there are certainly other opinions, and perhaps some negative ones. Other departments with fewer Y genes than ours respond a bit more rationally, often asking me seriously whether the students in our department are richer. We study foreign languages, hence we should be able to travel abroad, and it takes money to travel and to buy exotic things from other countries. Plus, judging from the way the girls dress and primp themselves–with all their clothing, jewelry, and perfume–it does seem like our department looks more posh and well brought up. So maybe this stereotype is true after all. Which leads us to the result of all this asking and analyzing: that these girls must be a difficult catch. The girls in our department are the ultimate goal for a guy, it seems, something every guy wishes to have, but due to the girls’ high standard most guys don’t even dare to imagine doing something about it. The girls are in a league that is unreachable and thus guys can only stare and fantasize from a distance. Perhaps girls from our department sometimes seem cold and distant, compared to girls in other departments. People think of them as just sitting, tossing their hair, arguing whether or not to go shopping tonight or tomorrow night or, what the heck, why not both nights? And finally, what about the guys in our department? The reply from most outsiders is: “Guys? What guys?” The guys that are outnumbered 10 to 1? The guys that are basically bumping into fellow girl classmates everyday yet still can’t get a girlfriend? The guys that are envied by almost every single male mammal in our school yet at the same time ridiculed for being non-engineering students and thus not a complete man? The most common stereotypes are that we are sissies. Or nerds. Or eccentric. Or all of the above. And basically we are forgotten, just the side effect of the 90 pretty girls. We are insignificant, merely amusing, not yet annoying, but nothing important either, just something to laugh at by the “real men.” Everyone is so excited about the girls yet never bother to ask about the guys. Have you ever heard a girl screaming at the top of her lungs, ripping her shirt to pieces, over-flowing with life and anticipation wanting to date a guy from our department? Does any one ask whether our department has good looking male specimens? Of course not, or so the stereotypes go. All the girls are peeping at the Electrical Engineering basketball game or off shopping with their new Study Buddies, while the guys are all hiding in their dorms trying on makeup. So what’s the conclusion? Of course, these are just surface views, remembered vaguely without any deeper thought. They are supposed to be amusing, but do they also tell us something? Do they have some truth or reason for being? Perhaps they offer an important mirror for us to see ourselves. But until then, I’m sure our girls will continue to raid sales, killing those who dare to grab the clothes they wanted to buy, while we guys will all hide in a dark corner whispering and giggling and swatting each other in our little girl voices as we excitedly try a new Lancôme product. By Holin
Almost everyone’s had a dream about flying. When it comes to writing a song about this interesting subject–flying–we may say something about a blue sky or a baby bird yearning to fly. However, such stories are too ordinary and lack creativity. If Ah-Kai (阿凱) , the vocalist for 1976, were to write about this subject, he might write about a person who wants to be a pilot but fails to accomplish his goal; instead, he grows a pair of wings on his back. Or, he might write about a monk who reaches the state of being a bird through meditation. Such stories are more imaginative and attractive. And this is one of the major reasons that make 1976 so amazing–their creative lyrics. 1976 is one of the most popular rock bands in Taiwan. With dazzling and psychodelic melodies, 1976’s performances always attract large audiences, and the unique lyrics of their songs enchant people even more. Vocalist Ah Kai reveals his thoughts through lyrics, which are sometimes warm and sometimes romantic. Even some whimsical notions may become his inspiration and turn out to be a fabulous song. I wanted to write an article about music, so I asked a friend of mine to arrange an interview with Ah-Kai. He is regarded as a legend in the field of rock music, but he was very friendly and amiable without any haughty manner. With a cup of latte we chatted like friends. He was glad to be interviewed and to share with us how he transforms his feelings into beautiful music. The song “Sense of Direction” can be taken as a good example of how Ah Kai uses metaphors to indicate his feelings. 失蹤很久的鑰匙 原來一直在妳口袋 金屬撞擊的時候 某些部份的我又醒起來 我並不想成為誰的指南針 妳該相信自己的方向感 The long lost keys turn out to be in your pocket, all along. When those metals collide, part of me awakes. I don’t want to be anyone’s compass. You ought to trust your own sense of direction. When Ah Kai wants to express his emotion, he does not write his inner feelings directly. He writes about the scene he sees just like making a film. Like the movement of a camera, his emotions are clearly conveyed. “Sense of Direction” depicts a scene of lovers breaking up. The first two lines describe a boy who thinks that he has something that he cannot find, until he realizes that it’s the girl who has held it all the time. The next two lines describe a man with no confidence in love and lacking a sense of responsibility, who cannot take the girl’s love. This is the common situation in most relationships: girls are often more serious and are more devoted than boys, while boys are sometimes too unreliable and bring girls happiness. The song “Shadows” is another good example. 要追著你跑要改變方向 要躲藏起來要忘記理想 燃起根煙 你有樣學樣 幼稚荒唐 跟我真像 如果能不追隨甚麼 一定會比較快樂 數到三 關上燈 我就走 I want to follow you and change my direction. I want to hide myself and forget my dream. Lighting up a cigarette, you imitate me. Childish and absurd, you are just like me. If only I can stop chasing, I’ll surely be happier. Count to three and turn off the light, I’ll just go away Kai just writes the action without mentioning emotions, but in fact the lyrics are about feelings of idolatry. Because where there is light, there is shadow. Most people admire idols even though it’s a little bit childish to do so. However, we have the right to turn on or to turn off the light. In other words, we can decide to admire idols or not. It’s making ourselves happy that really counts. Although audiences do not hear simple and plain terms about feelings in lyrics, they can get an image clearly. Sometimes it may be even more touching. Ah-Kai’s creative habit is to write lyrics first and then compose a melody that fits them. Maybe some people will wonder if there are difficulties in writing lyrics before the melody. For instance, lyrics can’t be placed as neatly into music because of obstacles in rhyme and the number of words. However, Ah-Kai believes that conveying a complete inner-tape, that is, the voices and emotions inside of the composer, is the most important purpose in writing music. And it is easier to convey ideas clearly by writing the lyrics first. Since expressing himself clearly is more important, adjustments in rhyme and the number of words are no longer serious problems. Lyrics created this way have won the hearts of music fans and have brought thunderous applause for this talented young musician. By Rachel Liao
Don’t want to buy expensive textbooks anymore? Want to read some classics to enrich your mind without waiting around in the library? Here’s a suggestion: the Mollie used bookstore. Perhaps your experience has told you that used bookstores are always too small and have a weird smell. And piles of books are always falling on your head. But Mollie will definitely change your mind. Unlike other used bookstores, Mollie is clean and cozy. It is spacious, warm, and even has sweet-smelling tea and snacks for sale! Its owner, Mr. Tsai, has run a used bookstore in the Kwanghwa Bazaar for many years. After ten years, he decided to expand his business with a new branch, choosing the Kungkuan area last year. Mollie, which means “jasmine” in Chinese, is formed by the combination of characters from Mr. Tsai and his wife’s names. Mollie is unique among used bookstores in Taiwan. Any kind of book you can think of might be on Mollie’s shelves: children’s books, college textbooks, bestsellers, English novels, albums of paintings, and so on. And its books are sold at less than half their original price, and there are other discounts. But not because they are ancient, blurred, or torn. All books are cleaned by Mollie’s staff, so you don’t have to worry about buying an ugly or worn book. Not only books, Mollie also has a small coffee shop. It offers tea, coffee, food such as cheesecake and homemade cookies. Imagine sitting leisurely in a bookstore, reading your favorite book with coffee and cake. If you have some used books and don’t know what to do with them, Mollie is also glad to buy them from you. If your books are not suitable for sale, the shop will donate them to public welfare organizations. So don’t hesitate to bring them along. Since Mollie is just around Taida, why not drop by for a look? If you’re a bookworm, Mollie is perfect for you. If you’re not, why not try Mollie’s coffee and cake? Enjoy and have fun! Mollie Used Bookstore: 台北市羅斯福路四段24巷13號B1 http://www.mollie.com.tw/ By Jack Chou
The bell tolled, a welcome usurper in the afternoon lull: once in urgency, twenty times in redundancy, and the echoes raced an unruffled breeze across sunwashed campus grounds, under an endless autumn sky. Chairs groaned in relief as their weighty payloads sprung free; footsteps exploded down halls and stairs, trailed by shouts of laughter, cries of relief, and perhaps a prayer of thanks. In the teacher’s lounge where Mr. Petersen has been gracious enough to meet me, the parallel between the rambunctious celebration outside and our sober interview was not lost on us, and while my fellow students were celebrating the end of a long day, we were about to discuss the end of a brilliant teaching career. For this year will be the last at NTU for Ole Bay-Petersen. As I sat across from this renowned educator, I became aware of the way his eyes, sharp as a hawk’s but patient as the sky, shone in our little piece of unspoiled tranquility. I took a deep breath and began: Jack: You’ll forgive me if I seem nervous, but it’s like interviewing a legend. I mean, you’ve been here so long. This will be your 20th year here at NTU? Petersen: Yes. J: Why are you leaving the university, and Taiwan? P: Well, I’m perfectly happy teaching in Taida, living in Taiwan, but I’ll be 60 next year. And having been here 20 years, I think it’s time for a change. Another reason is that my wife has a very demanding position in Taiwan, and I think she feels that it’s been a very exhaustive job and that it’s time to leave. Finally, I was a bit taken aback when one of my students last year said that I reminded her of her grandfather. I’m sure she meant to be kind, but somehow I feel maybe grandfathers ought to retire. J: And in the future? P: I think that probably the first six months or so I’ll just have to adapt to a new situation. I think it could be a bit difficult at first, not actually having a job anymore, but at the same time I’m looking forward to having the time to read all the books that have been waiting for me. I’m also a keen chess player, and in Taiwan it’s really impossible to find anybody who plays western chess. So I’m looking forward to joining a chess club. Also, I’ve probably seen more of Asia than I have of Europe, so when I go back I want to do some traveling, in Europe and especially in England. J: Do you have any particularly fond memories of your years in Taiwan? P: I suppose when I go to England and think about my time in Taiwan, my fondest memories will be about the many students I’ve had the privilege to teach. Not just the outstanding students, but also the average students, and some of the bad ones, too. Also, I’ve been lucky to have had some very friendly colleagues, and I would like to emphasize that as a foreigner in Taida I’ve been very impressed by the teaching assistants I’ve had. They’ve been extremely helpful and kind to me, and I probably couldn’t have functioned as a teacher but for their help. J: Do you have any bad memories? P: Well, certainly the worst memory was the big earthquake in September 1999. My wife was in the Philippines at the time, and I was alone with our dog here in Taipei. That earthquake was very frightening. I think anybody who experienced it would’ve been frightened by it—I certainly was! On a more personal level, I have had the sad experience that two of the undergraduates I’ve taught chose to take their own lives. I’ve never really understood why. I had no suspicion they were going to do it, and I feel a sense of helplessness whenever I think about it. I find it extremely sad that two such young people should feel that life was not worth living. J: Why Taiwan though? Why not some other country? P: Well, that was mainly because of my wife. She was offered the job she has now, an information officer for an international agricultural organization. It seemed very tempting. I had previously traveled throughout Asia, but I never had the chance to come to Taiwan. J: How has your time here changed you? P: I was almost 40 when I arrived, so I think my character had already developed. Although I’ve learned a good deal about Taiwanese and Chinese culture during my time, I don’t think what I learned has really changed me. Partly because several of the values I’ve been taught in Denmark are also values that are shared by the people in Taiwan. Values such as courtesy and honesty, compassion, and consensus rather than confrontation. Although there were obvious cultural and historical differences between us, I think what I realized was that in fact we also have a lot in common. J: Are students now very different from students twenty years ago? That’s what our parents like to tell us. P: I think all parents like to say that. Personally I don’t think they’ve changed a lot. There is one difference, which is we now get far more students who’ve spent time in English speaking countries, and they arrive in our department with a much better command of English than what used to be the case. J: 20 years from now, you return. What changes would you expect to see? P: That’s a very difficult question. As for our campus, I would expect there to be more buildings, and fewer trees and lawns. When I started working here, a lot of places that have now been built on were open fields. So I think the campus itself will shrink. As for the students and teachers, I have no idea what teachers will be like in 20 years! The students may have become even more westernized than some of them are now. And there would probably be more students with weird hairdos and strangely dyed hair. (Smiles) J: 40 years from now, you’re writing your memoirs. What tidbits from your years here would you include? P: Well, 40 years from now I’ll be about 100, so I doubt whether I’ll be alive; and if I were alive I’d probably be so senile I wouldn’t be doing much writing. But if I could I would certainly devote a very long chapter to Taiwan. It’ll probably be the longest chapter, because after all I’ve lived much longer in Taiwan than in England, and almost as long as I have in Denmark. J: If you could take a piece of NTU with you as a souvenir what would you take? P: I think I might take a cutting from a tree I think of as the ‘flame tree’. It’s the one near the college bell which has orange leaves in June. I find it extremely delightful when it blooms in spring, I think it is one of the most wonderful trees on campus. J: You know that famous quote from General Douglas MacArthur, that ‘Old soldiers never die, they just fade away’. Do you think it’s the same with teachers? Do you have your own motto about retiring teachers? P: I think it obviously depends on the individual. A motto I have for myself is: ‘I don’t personally believe in a life after death, but I do believe in a life after teaching’. What I mean is I want to start learning again. I want to read a lot of books and perhaps attend classes in Cambridge and various other universities, what they call a university for the 3rd age—that is, the elderly. That seems to me a very good idea. I hope not just to relax, but to become a student again. *********** I walked out into the sunset, to watch Mr. Petersen leave. The light was fading fast in the west, and a brisk breeze was picking up. Nothing lasted forever, not classes, not vacations, not even twenty years devoted to a calling, and a lifetime of reading and traveling, teaching and learning. After twenty years of devotion, all he asked for was a mere cutting of a nameless tree. There was a deep insight in that wish, in the absence of regrets and in the harvest of memories, that made me realize I had another question, more important and profound than all those I had already asked. I started forward but could no longer find him; for in the flow of youth and gaiety, in the blend of light and shadow, he had vanished without a ripple. By Kate Hsieh
In the darkness a burglar had snuck into an apartment intending to rob a woman, but she unexpectedly came home. So the burglar had no choice but to hide himself in the closet and leave the jewelry where he found it. Then someone rang the bell. The burglar, still inside the closet, knew something was happening outside but had no idea what. When he finally emerged he found the woman lying dead on the floor and the murderer long gone with the jewelry. As he left the building he wondered why he always got stuck in situations like this. What kind of burglar would be so unlucky? Let me introduce you to Bernie Rhodenbarr, a second-hand bookstore owner in New York who also happens to be a professional burglar. But unfortunately Bernie has a habit of finding corpses in the apartments he breaks into. So he must turn himself into a detective and find out the real murderer in order to prove his own innocence. Carolyn Kaiser, his lesbian best friend, who runs a dog-grooming parlor called the Poodle Factory, is his trusty sidekick. Bernie is the main character of a series of detective novels written by Lawrence Block. Some people consider him the master of the detective novel today. His erudite novels are popular around the world. Bernie is not just a burglar but a graceful and tasteful one who steals with style. His targets are always rare and significant, such as a priceless coin, a painting by Dutch artist Mondrian, or a valuable first edition of a famous detective novel with the author’s inscription to a fellow author. Block’s novels also often pay homage to previous great writers like Argatha Christie and J.D. Salinger. His novels contain a marvelously different kind of mystery protagonist. This time you find yourself on the side of a “bad guy” and it makes the stories very refreshing. In order to make a contrast with the honest burglar, Block creates a dishonest cop, Ray, the best cop money can buy. Ray is always ready to give Bernie a hand if Bernie will fill it with cash. The so-called “good guy” is dishonest and greedy, while Bernie, the “bad guy,” is trying to solve the crime and restore justice. It is true that he commits crimes, but you can’t help but like this guy, and you secretly hope that he never gets caught. The stories are packed with wit, wonderful plots, and great dialogue–perfect for curling up in bed with. They are pure joy. If you enjoy reading detective novels then you will love these. This cat burglar will definitely steal your heart! By Jolene Tien
It was only the third day of the semester, and a lazy, hazy Wednesday morning at that. As I had no classes to doze off in, my mind was unrestricted in its imaginings, and I whiled away the hours sitting on my bed, picking through the pages of fashion magazines and staring off into space. But my mood ended in an abrupt awakening when my friend called just before the very first Sociology of Love class. “You have to come here as soon as possible,” she huffed breathlessly into the phone. “The classroom is already filled with people!” Within five minutes I’d leapt from my comfortable bed, shot across the campus, and landed smack into a chaotic classroom so jammed with eager students that I could hardly walk in without stepping on somebody’s foot. Professor Sun initiated the Sociology of Love course in 1997. “Simply put, there are two reasons that make me want to teach ‘love’,” he says. His first reason is that love is a topic that many sociologists, as well as people who study psychology, would like to study. His second reason is even more interesting. “I always wished someone could have given me some advice back when I was a college student and confused in a relationship.” In Taiwan, teachers have almost always kept silent on the subject. Now a teacher has finally broken the silence, and pioneered into the mythical realm with a fellowship of intrigued students in tow. Even though love is the subject of the course, it does not mean the teacher gives us tips like advice columns in magazines. The lectures introduce both eastern and western views on love, the love lives of ancient philosophers, and the relation between love and gender. In class we discuss love stories ranging from Chinese masterpieces to popular Japanese dramas. The Chinese classics we discuss, such as “West Chamber,” are considered in a contemporary light. Unlike scholars who study the story in a literal way, Professor Sun doubts that “West Chamber” really is a romantic love story at all. His view is that Chang, the hero, was no more than an arrogant jerk who dumped the heroine Ying-Ying once he got her into bed. He also asked us to think about how we would react if we were Ying-Ying. How would we deal with Chang when he begs for a reunion, after so much cruelty and abandonment? Professor Sun is also quick to exploit popular romances if students get bored, such as the time he parodied lines from a famous Japanese drama when students seemed to lose interest in Plato’s “Symposium.” “Japanese dramas demonstrate how to break up,” he says. “They show us how people pick themselves up after heartbreak, so that in the end they can be brave enough to watch their ex move on. It’s easy to learn from them, because they turn abstract feelings into a real scene. ” To help students focus on significant issues associated with love, Professor Sun encourages us to keep a “Love Journal,” a notebook in which we write down episodes from our own experiences of love, whatever the form. “I enjoy reading your stories,” says Professor Sun, “now you all understand why I love to teach the class. ” “But the journals mean more to you. This is an important process whereby students can explore themselves. So don’t forget to take back your journal at the end of the semester.” Professor Sun is also a talented performer. Some of his students think he looks a lot like Garfield! TVBS Magazine came to do a report on the class in October. He explained to the journalist, and to us: “People ask me if love can be taught through a course. I don’t think that taking my class means that love will be perfect and happy for you, but I do hope that it encourages students ‘actively’ to examine love as they experience it, learning how to assess and to solve problems as they arise.” By Ellen Cheng
Do you prepare sweets every year for those little devils who knock on your door and yell “Trick or Treat”? How about placing Jack o’ lanterns in front of your door? We all know that Halloween is celebrated every year, but just what exactly is it for? The word “Halloween” originated in the Catholic Church. It stands for the evening before “All Saints’ Day” (or “All Hollows Day”), which is November 1. All Saints’ Day is a Catholic day of observance in honor of saints. 2500 years ago, the Celts living in Great Britain believed that human beings are controlled by gods. They believed that “Samhain,” the death god, would come back to the earth with the dead on the night of October 31, called “All Soul’s Day.” That evening, the Celts made bonfires and roasted animals such as sheep and bulls as sacrifices to the death god. They also feared that the disembodied spirits of all those who had died would come back in search of living bodies to possess. Therefore, people would dress up in costumes to frighten away the spirits and leave food or other treats at their doors to appease them. By doing so, they hoped that the spirits would move down the road instead of coming after them. Placing Jack o’ lanterns (which have the image of a dammed soul) in the front door is another way that the Celts believed they could scare the spirits away. This custom began from an Irish folktale about an blacksmith named Jack. He was notorious as a drunkard and trickster whom tricked Satan and made a deal that his soul would never be taken by the devil. When Jack finally died years later, he was not admitted to heaven because of his drinking and his tightfisted and deceitful nature. When he went to apply for entrance to hell, Satan had to turn him away because of the previous deal. “But where can I go?” asked Jack. “Back to where you came from!” the devil replied. It was dark and windy, and the devil gave him embers to light his way through the frigid darkness. And the embers were placed inside a hollowed-out turnip to keep them glowing longer. After centuries this “turnip lantern” was treated as a decoration for Halloween in Ireland. Then Jack o’ lanterns were brought by the immigrant Irish Celts to Britain. In traditional Irish Halloween, turnips were hollowed out with a carved face and a lighted candle placed inside. However, turnips were not as readily available as in Ireland, so the Irish Celts found the pumpkin to be a more than adequate replacement. Children’s shouting “Trick or Treat!” can also be traced back to the early celebrations of Halloween. At that time, the poor would go begging and housewives would give them special treats called “soul cakes.” For every cake a beggar collected, he or she would have to say a prayer for the dead relatives of the person who gave the cake. These prayers would help the relatives find their way out of purgatory and into heaven. As time went by, the custom changed and the beggars were replaced by children, who would go from house to house and shout “Trick or Treat,” and the people would give them sweets to keep from being tricked. The Halloween we celebrate today is influenced by all of these traditions and stories. Think of that next time a little devil knocks at your door on the last day of October and yells “Trick or Treat!” |
Authors
The Taida Student Journal has been active since 1995 with an ever-changing roster of student journalists at NTU. Click the above link to read about the authors Archives
May 2024
|