Negotiating Culture Space and Identity: The Translation and Analysis of Tongzhi and Ku-er Fiction

6.4 Conclusion
This short chapter can be seen as the bridge between the chapter on tongzhi and ku-er literature and the chapter on frame and framing. This chapter gives the readers an indication on the rationale behind the textual selection, and the method of analysis when looking at the texts.
Chapter 7: Angelwings: Contemporary Queer Fiction from Taiwan
In Jones (2004) discussion on the ethics of translation, he argues that literary translators are not neutral agents, but influenced by personal and external factors: “Literary translators […] are not only textual communicators, they are also individuals with relationships, loyalties and political/social ideologies of their own” (2004: 712). This view is relevant when looking at the translated text Angelwings. Published in 2003, Fran Martin’s translated anthology represents not only one of the few tongzhi and ku-er translations, but also one of the few works of Taiwanese literature translated into English. Kung (2009), writing on the marginalised status of Chinese literature in the West, notes that the translation of Taiwanese literature often only comes as the result of protracted negotiations, and that the translator frequently plays a crucial role in initiating contact between the source culture and target culture (2009: 126).

Such was the case with Martin’s translation of tongzhi and ku- er fiction. As both a translator and a tongzhi activist, Martin immersed herself in the culture and politics associated with the translated text and was instrumental in its eventual publication.

The anthology Angelwings is based on a cross, or transcultural framework. The nature of the interactions between cultures is illustrated in an anecdote told by Martin in Situating Sexualities (2003a), where she recalls the camaraderie amongst a female tongzhi meeting in Taiwan: “I shared an obvious comradeship with them, despite our clearly variant national and cultural histories, because of my identification as nutongzhi [female tongzhi] and their identification as ‘lesbian’” (2003a: 6). The dual sexual identities with which Martin identifies also reflect her position and loyalty. To requote Pym’s proposal (as discussed in chapter 3) that the translator is one part of the ‘cultural intermediaries’ who work with two or more cultures (1998: 88), Martin as can be seen to be (re)writing from both a Western ‘queer’ perspective and a Taiwanese tongzhi perspective.
Using these ideas as starting points, the aim of the pilot study is to look at the dual perspectives of tongzhi and queer writing in Martin’s paratextual commentary and textual translations. Broadly speaking, there are two aspects of frame and framing to consider when evaluating the translation of Taiwanese tongzhi and ku-er literature, the first is the multiplicity of cultural frameworks with which the source texts and the translated texts inevitably engages, the second the process of ‘framing’ by the translator herself. In the introductory chapter of Angelwings, Martin provides clues to how these aspects of framing may manifest.
Starting with the first aspect of framing, tongzhi and ku-er movements in Taiwan, as discussed in chapter 4, arose during a period of political transition following the lifting of martial law in1987. Radical Western academic discourses became available in Taiwan, either directly through the translation of relevant texts, or as Liou (2005) notes in her overview of post martial law Taiwanese literature, indirectly, through the return of expatriate scholars educated in the West introducing new ideas into Taiwanese academia. Tongzhi and ku-er culture can be seen as a diffused versions of Western gay, lesbian and queer frameworks, but with a specifically Asian slant, testament to Taiwan’s recent history with Japan, China and US. As Martin notes in her introduction:
What the stories suggest, I think, is a local context characterized by its traffic with globalizing cultural flaws, the location neither of a seamless absorption into global culture, nor of a pure and self evident “cultural tradition”. (Martin 2003b: 17)
As the translator, Martin is essentially dealing with multiple cultural frameworks, a factor which she addresses, again in the introduction:
[…] one set of questions raised by a collection like this one, which promises a “queer fiction from Taiwan,” is about the relationship between this apparently local and specific form of sexual identification in tongzhi and ku’er, and the Euro American cultures with which this volume’s readers are likely to be familiar (2003a: 16)
Martin finds the local/global dichotomy to be an inadequate way of understanding tongzhi and ku-er fiction, proposing instead a relationship that can be described as ‘interdependent’, echoing Cronin’s proposal of translation as an interdependent process in chapter 3. Incorporating both local and global elements and lacking a unifying cultural root, tongzhi and ku-er fiction is positioned in what Martin calls a ‘glocal’ framework, the “syncretic products of ‘glocalisation’ (2003b: 17). As the later analysis of the translated text Bodhisvatta Incarnate will illustrate, Martin translates her stories from a ‘glocal’ perspective, taking account of both domestic and foreign influences in her use of language and paratextual footnotes.
The engagement with a ‘glocal’ perspective in Angelwings leads to the second aspect: the ideology with which the translator ‘frames’ the text. Baker previously noted that the process of translation is a process of (re)framing, and the translated text can be seen as an “interpretive frame” (2005: 107). However, this process of framing is also related to what Baker describes as an ‘ethical decision’. Once deciding to translate, the translator can employ various strategies to either amplify or diminish aspects of the original text (Baker 2005: 105). In Angelwings, Martin chooses to declare her ideological position overtly, making use of paratext to demonstrate her alignment with “global” identity movements and to situate the translated text within a political framework. The introduction for Angelwings acknowledges Martin’s participation in the ‘glocal’ identity politics movements and her positioning of the translated text within a political framework. Martin’s emphasis on the building of an ‘imagined community’ in her introduction is a case in point. As a ‘translational frame’, Angelwings places the writers, readers and translators of tongzhi and ku-er fiction together in a mutually supportive community. This is illustrated not only in the comprehensive introduction, but also in Martin’s choice of title Angelwings, the story by the ku-er writer Chen Xue’s 尋找天使遺失的翅膀 (1995) [Searching for the Lost Wings of the Angel], is significant to Martin. As she explains:
One of the implications of Angelwings as a title for this collection is that tongzhi wenxue has the capacity to act in this enabling way not only for tongzhi authors, but also for the tongzhi readership that this fiction precipitates. In this way the fiction collected here does not simply represent emergent forms of sexual subjectivity, but also enables and produces them. (Martin 2003a: 8)
The ‘enabling’ effect of literature is something on which Martin places particular emphasis, both in this anthology and in her tongzhi and ku-er culture study Situating Sexualities (2003b). Martin’s introduction suggests that identities and communities are produced, or in the translated text’s case aligned through discourses. Tracing back to Benford and Snow’s (2000) notion of ‘alignment’, it is an essential strategy for establishing contact with potentially interested parties. In the case of Angelwings, the concept of alignment can be perceived as both a metaphor for translation (translation can be seen to ‘align’ different cultural frameworks) as well as a translation strategy, in which Martin arguably installs a political dimension in her translations. As she states, it is only through the “appropriation, classification and politicization” of tongzhi literature that the text takes on its meaning (2003a: 8), and Martin’s translation can be seen as the ‘appropriation, classification and politicization’ of the original text. The concluding remarks in the introductory passage summarise the purpose of Angelwings:
What most clearly brings the tongzhi wenxue presented here together as a coherent body of work for an international readership is that, whether implicitly or explicitly, each of the stories calls into question the social structures that deny a legitimate place to individuals who cannot or will not perform heterosexual ‘normality’. (Martin 2003a: 22)
Martin frames the translated text in a way that the international reader would recognises, akin to what Appiah calls a ‘thick translation’, an “academic translation” that seeks “with its annotations and its accompanying glosses to locate the text in a rich cultural and linguistic context” (1993: 817). Through her introduction, Martin initiates the Western reader into the context of the tongzhi and ku-er movements and her academic and personal interest in the movement provides the ideological motivation.
The introduction to Angelwings set out the agenda for the translated text, the next two sections will provide a closer analysis of the physical and textual frame of the text.

7.1 Binding of Angelwings: Contemporary Queer Fiction from Taiwan
As demonstrated by the introduction to Angelwings, translated texts are implicitly or explicitly influenced by the translator’s ideological disposition. To paraphrase Jones, the interventions of the translator are not limited to textual interventions, but can also include extra textual aspects such as collaborating with the original writers, writing translator’s introductions and initiating contacts with publishers (2004: 712). This is illustrated not only in the comprehensive background information provided by Martin to the translated text, but also in the ‘binding’ of Angelwings itself. The term of ‘binding’ is first coined by Harvey in his studies of American gay literature(2003a; 2003b), used to describe the macro elements of the text, including the title, cover image and back cover blurbs. Even before picking up the text, the potential reader’s first engagement with a book is visual, with its binding. According to Harvey (2003a), texts are naturally ‘bound’ to each other, enclosed by metatextual elements. Factors such as relevant literary reviews, interviews, criticisms’ as well as the physical design of the book can radically influence a reader’s expectations and perceptions of a single text. Harvey’s definition of binding is reminiscent of Genette’s definition of paratext, where binding functions in a similar way to “thresholds of interpretations” (Genette 1991: 261). However, for Harvey, the function of binding extends beyond the physical and metaphorical frame of a text; binding provides a physical boundary for a text while revealing its wider contextual surroundings:
[…] the ‘binding’ that title, cover and review does not merely-or even principally-relate to the main body of the text they are annexed to or about which they speak, but rather concerns the relation between text -objects as cultural event and the discourses of the time. (Harvey 2003a: 179 – 180, my emphasis)

Harvey’s concept of binding is part of a sociological frame (arguably more so than Gentte’s proposal of paratext, which focuses on the literary effects of framing only), because binding has the potential to reflect the cultural trends and discourses relating to the text. Nevertheless, binding, like paratext, is in most cases designed to compliment the text within. Binding illustrates not only how the text is perceived by the author/publisher/any involving agents, but also the reader’s anticipation of a text. A reader’s expectation of a book with a Mills and Boon cover (pink colour scheme, image of lovers embracing on the cover), would be different from that of a book with a cover in the state of a popular thriller (darker colour scheme, snap shots of crime scene). In this respect, Frow’s definition of ‘genre’ as “a set of expectations which guide our engagement with texts” (2006: 104) also corresponds with the concept of binding¹². However, this ‘set of expectations’ (like the concept of ‘frame’ and ‘framing’), is not fixed. What binding can capture is a specific visual/physical interpretation of a text at a given time. As Harvey states, he is primarily interested in the “agency of the translation as event” (2003b: 182, Harvey’s emphasis), the collective input that creates the (translated) text as ‘event’. In Harvey’s own area of research on the translation of American gay literature, he descrobes these ‘texts as events’ to be the representation of ‘gay identity’, ‘gay liberation’ and ‘gay writing’ (2003b: 181). These studies can help in understanding the role of binding in Fran Martin’s Angelwings, its external frames a collaborative effort between the local and global tongzhi community. The binding of the anthology provides cues as to how Taiwanese tongzhi identity is represented within the text, and how it can relate to a Western audience.

7.2 Bodhisattva Incarnate: Textual Translation
The first translation in the anthology Angelwings is Chu Tien Wen’s肉身菩薩 (1989) [Buddha of the Body], translated by Martin as Bodhisattva Incarnate (2003). The original short story by Chu is part of the first wave of literature published in Taiwan to deal explicitly with the subject of homosexuality. Although published before the rise of the tongzhi and ku-er movements, Chu’s portrayal of an affluent, fashionable gay protagonist is unprecedented in Taiwanese literature, defying the image of homosexual males as part of the poor under classes of society as portrayed in Pai Hsien Yung’s 孽子 (1986) [Evil Son]. The story can be seen as the prototype for Chu’s acclaimed novel 荒人手計 (1993) [Desolate Man’s Journal], considered by critics to be one of the defining texts in modern (male) tongzhi literature (Martin 2003a, Liou 2006). Martin, in the introduction to Angelwings, describes 肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body] as: “an emblematic instance of the 1990s mainstreaming of postmodern literary aesthetic that privileges narrative fragmentation, linguistic play, a contemporary urban setting, and a global imaginary” (2003a: 4). Indeed, Chu’s story is innovative in theme and narrative, incorporating influences contemporary and traditional, foreign and Chinese. The Postmodernist aspects of the text are illustrated by the rich Intertextuality that characterises it, as well as Chu’s unconventional narrative that fluidly switches between a literary and a colloquial writing style.
In terms of cultural frameworks, Chu’s homosexual themed fiction is hybrid, reflecting the rising globalisation and consumer capitalism of late 80s Taiwan. The protagonist Little Tong can be seen to have a modern, arguably ‘Westernised’ lifestyle, with a penchant for designer labels and casual sexual encounters. Homosexual identity is presented as decadent rather than political, a stance that is later repeated in the novel 荒人手計 [Desolate Man’s Journal]. The reluctance to represent a distinctive, political ‘gay’ identity in both肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body] and 荒人手計 [Desolate Man’s Journal] later led critics to question the credibility of Chu’s homosexual themed novel as tongzhi fiction. Huang Mong Shu (2006) for example, notes the difficulty in regarding Chu’s homosexual themed fiction as ‘enabling’ tonzhi fiction, for Chu’s characters are said to be ultimately too conservative to contribute to tongzhi culture. In addition, Chu’s gender and sexuality also contributes to the debate, being female and heterosexual, the ‘authenticity’ as well as her motivation for writing tongzhi fiction can appear ambiguous. Other critics however favours a more tongzhi positive reading of the Chu’ stories, Liou Liang-ya describes the novel 荒人手計 [Desolate Man’s Journal] as a portrayal of modern tongzhi who are able to integrate in both traditional and gay circles: “Its dissembling politic reflects the cosy affluence of those who are integrated into the social order and find support from their own gay circles” (2003: 202) Chu Wei Chang, in his anthology of Taiwanese ku-er fiction, also notes that while肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body] is often considered to be a literary example of fin de siècle, Postmodernist decadence, the essence of the short story lies in Chu’s sensitive and lively portrayal of contemporary tongzhi culture (2005: 104-5).
As both sides of the debate are outlined, Martin’s translation of 肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body] as Bodhisattva Incarnate arguably follows the latter, tongzhi friendly interpretation of the text. In a similar academic fashion to the introduction for Angelwings, Martin provides a short autobiographical section accompanying each translated text to familiarise the reader with the context. The abstract nature of Chu’s Postmodernist narrative and questions about its ‘legitimacy’ as tongzhi fiction are acknowledged by Martin. Like Chu Wei Chang, she notes that for some critics of Chu’s fiction, the topic of homosexuality is sidelined as being merely: “[…] an abstracted sign of fin-de-siecle decadence” (2003a: 29). Nevertheless, Martin considers the text to capture an important moment of cultural and sexual transgression in Taiwan. As she states: “this story evokes the complex psychic world of a homosexual intellectual immersed in the alienating and rapidly transforming culture of late twentieth century Taiwan” (2003a: 30). Interestingly, by its inclusion in the anthology, Bodhisattva Incarnate is automatically placed within the framework of tongzhi and ku-er activism. Referring back to the section on binding, the agency involved in selecting texts for an anthology can also be viewed as a form of binding. The original story, 肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body] is thus bound by the anthology.
7.3 Buddhist Allusions
Textually, the complex narrative structure of source text makes it difficult to translate. There are a various themes within the original texts that are challenging for the translator to convey. Apart from the obvious language barrier between English and Chinese (the source text, as stated in the previous section, is written in unconventional form of Chinese) there are also recurring Buddhist motifs and allusions in the original text that may be arcane even for the Chinese reader.
Expanding on the metaphor of translation, the language in Roshen Pusa is akin to a translation of the Chinese language. Liou (2006), in her overview of Postmodernist and Postcolonialist Taiwanese literature, noted the linguistic trend in manipulating Mandarin Chinese (or to employ the literal Chinese term ‘國語’-language of the nation) once martial law had been lifted. Mandarin Chinese terms are combined with Minnan Taiwanese, as well as transliterations of Western terms. Ku-er being an obvious example, in which the English term ‘queer’ is transliterated into in Chinese, with the lexical meaning of 酷 (pronounced as ku) as ‘cool child’. According to Liou, this new flexibility in the use of language can be interpreted as resistance to the enforced orthodoxy of Mandarin Chinese by the government, and a reflection of the rise of various online, teenage and minority subcultures (2006: 60). Language in this sense, is no longer pure, but hybrid and metis, with multiple origins. In 肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body], Chu fuses literary and colloquial language creating a Postmodernist narrative that has echoes of the aforementioned linguistic playfulness.
The experimental narrative is also related to the religious allusions in the original text. The Chinese title, 肉身菩薩 [Buddha of the Body] refers to the deity Bodhisattva, who chooses to delay his personal enlightenment in order to bring salvation to the world¹³. Chu uses Bodhisattva as a metaphor for the protagonists’ own condition, achieving spiritual salvation through the paradox of indulging and denying his own physical lust and desires (hence the association with the ‘body’ in the title). In the translated text, Martin translates the title closely as Bodhisattva Incarnate, setting the religious tone for the target text reader. To a certain extent, she retains the original linguistic frame in her translation, retaining the Buddhist elements despite the potential difficulties for understanding the English reader.
Nevertheless, there are subtle shifts between the texts in how Martin chooses to convey the religious elements of the source text. To illustrate this, the following comparison between the source and translated text passages are taken from the scene in which the main character Little Tong encounters two teenage boys, the elder of whom is portrayed as sensuous, spiritual, enlightened yet empty. The passages are quoted in their entirety because they encapsulate the contrast between the secular and the spiritual that characterises Chu’s writing:
Source Text: 十七歲的長有一雙重濁的黑眼圈，像印度人眼睛 ，縱慾沉酣 ，淨透著無可如何，超世悲憐。 滋味複雜的眼睛，卻是空腦袋，都聽十六歲主張。沒一刻停止吃，他們要，他買。一大袋子輕飄的粉白粉紅粉綠球體像嬰兒玩具，入口化成甜味，一顆顆吃空屁。 }明治軟糖咬起來像橡膠，E.Ｔ. 吃的 }}ｍ＆ｍ糖，一包膠糖形狀如腰子，奇豔的水果色，雷根總統最愛吃，十六歲說。(Chu 1989: 94)

[Seventeen years old has a set of heavy black rings around his eyes, like Indian eyes, indulges desire sinks in drunkenness, purified with helplessness, beyond life intensively compassionate. Eyes with complex flavour, but empty skull, obey the sixteen years old’s decision. Never stop eating, they want, he buy. A big bag of floaty white, pastel pink, pastel green balls like baby’s toys, eaten and melt into sweetness, each ball eat empty. Meiji pastilles taste like rubber, M&M E.T ate, one bag of rubber candy shaped like kidney, strange bright fruit colour, Reagan President’s favourite, the sixteen years old said] 　

This is translated by Martin into:
The seventeen-year-old had heavy black rings around his eyes like an Indian, giving him a look of languid wantonness mixed with an air of helplessness, tremendously pitiful. Despite the savor of his eyes, his skull was empty-he always followed the sixteen-year-old’s lead. Never for a moment did they stop eating. They ordered, he paid. A big bag of airy white, pink, and green balls like babies toys that melted sweetly in the mouth, which they ate up one after another till they were all gone. Meiji Caramel Chews like chewing rubber, M&M’s like E.T ate. A bag of kidney shaped gummy candy in strange gaudy colours: President Reagan’s favourite, said the sixteen-year-old. (Martin 2003b: 38)
The disjunctive style of Chu’s narrative is demonstrated in the source passage, in which she switches between florid, spiritual descriptions to a mundane list of consumerist products. The sentence “一顆顆吃空屁” [each ball eat empty] for example, has the literal meaning of “until empty like a fart”. The crudeness of the expression is contrasted with the otherwise literary nature of Chu’s language, illustrating the aforementioned Postmodernist linguistic play, where the boundary between ‘high culture’ and ‘low culture’ is blurred.
Martin’s translation captures the sensuality and fervour of the original, though the religious meaning is arguably more ‘diluted’. Below are comparative examples between the source and target sentences:
ST: 縱慾沉酣，淨透著無可如何 [indulge desire sink in drunkenness, purified with helplessness]

TT: Languid wantonness mixed with an air of helplessness

ST: 超世悲憐 [beyond life sadly compassionate]

TT: Tremendously pitiful
ST: 滋味復雜的眼睛，卻是空腦袋 [eyes with complicated flavour, but empty skull]

TT: Despite the savor of his eyes, his skull was empty
In the examples cited, Chu’s use of language can be described as heavy and florid, with each sentence carrying both a strong sense of decadence as well as religious empathy. The sentence”縱慾沉酣, 淨透著無可如何 [indulge desire sink in drunkenness, purified with helplessness]” for example, juxtaposes the decadent description of ‘縱慾沉酣’ [indulge desire sink in drunkenness] with the word ‘淨透’ [purify]. The characters ‘淨透’ [purify] are a verb signifying mixture as well as purification, which can have religious connotations. The duality of the decadent and the spiritual in the original passage is less evident in Martin’s translation: “languid wantonness mixed with an air of helplessness”. By translating ‘淨透’ [purify] as ‘mixed’, the religious sense of the original word and the implicit contrast between sin and purification is lost.
Martin’s translation of the phrase “超世悲憐” [beyond life sadly compassionate] to “tremendously pitiful” is a further example. As illustrated in the back translation, the meaning of the original phase is more complex than Martin’s translation. The first half of the phrase “超世” [beyond life] specifically, refers to ‘living beyond secular life’. In addition, the individual characters ‘悲’ [grief] and ‘憐’ [pity] convey strong emotions. ‘悲’ [grief] for example, implies sadness in extreme situations, such as grief and tragedy. While ‘憐’ [pity] relates to ‘sympathy’ and ‘pity’. The phrase超世悲憐” [beyond life sadly compassionate] can therefore be seen as a description of a state of ‘Bodhi’ (see p.56), in which the Bodhisattva delays his journey to enlightenment due to his tremendous compassionate nature for humanity. Martin’s translation of the phrase “tremendously pitiful” convey the strong sense of sympathy, but lacks the ascetic distance as suggested by the Chinese phrase 超世 [beyond life]. In the third example: “滋味復雜的眼睛” [eyes with complicated flavour], Martin has chosen to substitute the description “滋味復雜” [complicated flavour] as ‘savor’. Although the word “savor” accurately conveys the taste connotations of ‘滋味’ [flavour], the second description “復雜” [complicated] is not translated.
To summarise this section, something of the abstract, enigmatic nature of the Chinese narrative is lost in the translation where some of Chu’s original sentences are either shortened or left untranslated. This shows that although Martin translates closely (or ‘faithfully’) to the original texts, there are still changes. To paraphrase Leuven Zwart, linguistic modifications such as explication, implication, amplification etcetera can exist even in ‘faithful’ translations (1989: 153). Furthermore, Leuven Zwart points out that microscopic changes in a translation can influence the macroscopic perception of the text: “a different mind style in translation results in a different image of the fictional world” (1989: 79). In Bodhisattva Incarnate, Martin creates a different image of the fictional world by placing the Buddhist context at the periphery, enabling her to concentrate on other aspects of the text; namely, presenting a ‘tongzhi’ interpretation. In this respect, Martin frames the translated text to correspond with the overall ideology of the anthology. The extent to which she does so will be explored.