What the DEAD can, contribute to this world of the living, from the Front Page Sections, translated…
After the death of the writer, Au Lee, the director of the Culture Department, Cheng stated that she was going to get the president to commend him, the families showed their thanks, but at the same time, it’d, made the others in the community wondered, WHY had the poet, Guan-Zhong Yu not received the same awards. I believe, that the cultural department should NOT spend too much mind on commending, instead, it should show more cares and concerns for whether or not the writers we have now can still write.
The writer of children’s literature, Hong-Wen Hsieh posted his opinions on FB, that “Taiwan should allow the literatures, the arts, to exceed politics,…as the artists or writers are still living, they’re normally, looking for that quiet environment to write in, when they’re creating in their own solitude, without the kindness from the outside world, then, all the awards, the commemorations after death are pointless.
As creators, we are all, Prometheus, stealing the fire, and, masking the truths in lies and presenting it to the world, sacrificed ourselves, but, nobody knew, that our body and mind are, marching toward the realms without the light.
A lot of the writers are not living well, with depression, suicide, and alcoholism as the norm. The Japanese cook literary commentary, Kawamura said, “literature is a symbol of the depressed states.” Passing through the lows of life, it can, help create that apex of the creativity mind.
For the writers to write something great, it’s, internally damaging, I do beg the Department of Culture to NOT defame the national treasures, to NOT give the commemorations postmortem, the creators only asked for some warmth, so assistance, when they’re, creating their works alone.
But, that’s usually how it works, until a writer or a composer is DEAD, then, the rest of the world realized just how great the person was, and, it’s the accommodations that comes too little, too late, because nobody gives a SHIT before the individual dies, and, after s/he dies, we feel we’d, lost something, a symbol of our culture…