Taipei Guest House at dusk. All photos courtesy of MOFA.
As I was walking out of the southern portals of 228 Memorial Park onto Ketagalan Boulevard on Saturday afternoon, accompanied by the Russian philologist Professor Viktor Gisin, whom I had bumped into as I made my way through the park, the sight of the ostentatious building on the corner with Zhongshan North jogged my memory.
The Taipei Guest House (臺北賓館) is open once a month on seemingly random Sundays and, having enquired in passing the month before, I had a feeling the next occasion was soon. Leaving Gisin to his misgivings about late-19th Russian bourgeois loafers as exemplified in Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons (he is quite happy to witter away to himself), I approached the gate to enquire and – bingo – it was open to the public the very next day.
Rather the worse for wear, I returned the following afternoon and finally got to have a good look around the premises. The remnants of Gisin’s sketchy vodka that were still refluxing up my gullet probably didn’t help but, I have to say, I was disappointed.
Completed in 1901, the guest house was originally the Governor General’s residence, while the Presidential Office Building down the boulevard was his office. Short stroll to work, then. The building is easily one of the most attractive in Taipei, but inside there’s really not a great deal of any consequence to see. For this reason, and the fact that you’re not allowed to take photos inside, I wasn’t too gutted that I’d forgotten to charge my crappy camera.
The spacious rooms are largely empty, stripped of any indication of the grand events and visitors that they played host to – there are long red-carpet type red carpets splicing most of them, some nondescript furniture on the ground floor and some rather incongruous faux-Georgian chairs upholstered in blue floral on the first floor, but that’s about your lot.
Oh, in another room there’s a bronze statue of the ROC’s then Foreign Minister Yeh Kung-chao (葉公超), or George to his mates, Japan’s representative Isao Kawada and other officials signing the Treaty of Taipei, but I’ll come back to that in a mo.
Much of the wood in the skirting, moulding, walls and doorways of the interior has been restored. This has been done in a tasteful enough manner whereas the gold-leaf gilding of the corridors and stairways is of such a gaudy hue that it is hard to believe it is representative of the colonial era.
The one item I found interesting was a hefty mahogany box with openings in each of its four sides. I’m pretty sure there was some kind of book propped up in one of these windows and church/temple-style kneelers in front of them. All of these elements – the last two, admittedly, perhaps the result of the hair-of-the-dog cans I downed on my walk from main station – plus the resemblance of the whole to a palanquin, bespoke a religious function. “I think the Japanese used it for reading,” one of the attendants shrugged.
And that was the problem. No one had much of an idea of what was what and there was no information whatsoever about the history of the place. At the far end of the ground floor, on the right, there is a corridor-cum-room with a row of information boards, none of which tells you a shred about the building.
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I tried earwigging on a tour in Mandarin but couldn’t glean much “Hold on a second,” said Richard, a well-meaning, if not ever-so-slightly officious fellow who seemed a bit more clued up than most of the people working there.
He went into the foyer to grab a couple of leaflets. As I was thanking him, I think the bewilderment on my face was obvious. The ROC-Japan Peace Treaty Q&A leaflet I can understand.
OK, it contains very little about the actual signing of the treaty (the observation that Foreign Minister Yeh “has [sic] a master’s degree in literature from Cambridge” is clearly indispensable) and much more about Cairo, Potsdam and the Japanese Instrument of Surrender, most of which was on the info boards anyway.
It is also littered with the usual ludicrous claims of the territorial sovereignty of Taiwan being “restored” to the ROC, which some people seem to think is a fair description of the historical record. But, however tangential, at least this leaflet has some connection to the history of Taipei Guest House.
What to make of the second one entitled The Diaoyutai Islands: An Inherent Part of the Republic of China? Your guess is as good as mine. I am, of course, being facetious, as it’s pretty plain what is going on here. Even a quick flick through makes it clear that undisguised Japan-bashing is the order of the day, with talk of the dwarf pirates’ secret plans and clever tricks that might have come straight from Roald Dahl.
And with the latest round of posturing over the uninhabited islands having just occurred it’s great timing. The government’s refusal to comment on the fact the “activists” involved in the latest skirmish were bearing PRC and ROC flags fits perfectly with the tone of this leaflet which emphasizes how the Diaoyutais have always been Chinese.
In a building constructed by the Japanese, one of Taipei’s great landmarks; a symbol of Taiwan’s transition from disease-infested badland to the second most developed territory in Asia outside Japan proper; a testament to the indelible change for the better that the colonial power – despite all their ills – effected on this country; this is what the current administration have to say.
It’s petty, spiteful, and just plain baffling. Above all else, it’s a real let down for anyone expecting an appetising slice of local history.
P.S. I was interested to discover that Matsunosuke Moriyama, who rebuilt the guesthouse in 1911, was also responsible for Beitou Hot Spring Museum, just down the road from me. Moriyama was probably the most important Japanese architect of Taiwan’s colonial period and his work can be seen all over Taipei. That’s why I laugh when people say silly things like “there is nothing Japan-like” left in this city. Read more about Moriyama and how he helped shape Taipei here.
The opening dates and times for Taipei Guesthouse are here. It’s supposedly the first Sunday of every month, but that doesn’t look right. The one for this month says it was August 4 and that it was temporarily suspended, whatever that means. Best to call ahead/pass by and check.
Finally, here is some footage of the Presidential Office Building, the old Bank of Taiwan building and the environs from dated 1950 (though perhaps from earlier as it has Japanese commentary). I’m not sure but I reckon the guest house can be seen for a few seconds around the 32 second mark. The facade certainly looks less grand but the colonnades and the rest seem to fit.
I love that term “inherent”, it’s almost as good as when a claim is made to something “always” being part of a country whose history does not, yer know, stretch back to the beginning of time. The difference between a piece of territory being “inherently” part of a country and just plain old being a part of it does escape lesser minds such as my own, but no doubt there is one and it’s not just some word added for pointless over-kill.
When I see the Guest House or lots of other similar buildings designed by Japanese architects in Zhongzheng, I see Europe, not Japan. What is Japan-like in this architecture? Perhaps I am blind, but I see a mish-mash of European styles. Maybe the floor is made of tatami inside? I’m sure if it was, you would’ve used a whole paragraph to describe its beauty
Regarding the part with my quote, I already admitted, that I was stating that recklessly. But since we’re talkin’, I still believe that some of you expat bloggers in Taiwan exaggerate with this historic Japanophilia, sometimes to a point, where it’s not funny anymore:
a symbol of Taiwan’s transition from disease-infested badland to the second most developed territory in Asia outside Japan proper; a testament to the indelible change for the better that the colonial power – despite all their ills – effected on this country; this is what the current administration have to say.
Come on, how can you write such things? I’m very disappointed. I was reckless and I admitted my simplistic remark, but you are an ideologue through and through. It’s a pity, because I thought you were a critical mind (at least in the past you used to be). It’s amazing, that we both live here and see this part of history so vastly different.
You really like the word “developed” for some reason. China is one of the most developed countries in Asia at this point, from GDP, level of industrialization to the infrastructure – they even built a railway to Tibet just like Japanese built railways to remote parts of Taiwan! So according to your criteria, Tibetans should be very happy about this period in their history, as they are probably turning into one of the most developed territories in central Asia. What’s the Dalai Lama obsessing about, huh?
@MKL – I think you’re over-reacting.
Whilst I’ve never actually seen the figures as to how developed Taiwan was compared to, say, Hong Kong, Singapore, Korea, or other former colonies in East Asia, Taiwan definitely did experience a high-level of development under the Japanese. JB is not saying that Taiwanese should have to be grateful for this, nor is he trying to deflect attention from the bad aspects of colonial rule which I believe he has covered in other posts. I know JB’s views on Taiwanese history fairly well and can tell you that he is most certainly not someone who exaggerates Japan’s role in Taiwanese history for ideological reasons.
It seems a bit odd to me that, having read JB’s piece, you visit the same place two days later, write an article on the same place, highlighting the same things, but not acknowledge JB’s piece. This is particularly so when that article seems to be a response to JB’s.
“But since we’re talkin’, I still believe that some of you expat bloggers in Taiwan exaggerate with this historic Japanophilia, sometimes to a point, where it’s not funny anymore . . . you are an ideologue through and through. It’s a pity, because I thought you were a critical mind (at least in the past you used to be).”
This is quite similar to what he wrote about me on my blog:
“I think your idea of Taiwan is purely of religious nature, completely ideological and dismissing all the internal and regional complexities (you put strong focus on the early Han settlers and the Japanese occupation, but disregard most of the rest)”
You are an “ideologue through and through” (as opposed to maybe 60 percent). I am “purely of religious nature, completely ideological” in my view.
Depressingly, the Japanese government uses the same kind of language:
I love it when phrases like ‘no doubt’ and ‘indisputable’ are used about a situation much doubted and disputed.
Thanks, G, but the game is up I’m afraid. There’s no pulling the wool over the eyes of one as perspicacious as MKL.
It’s time I held my hands up and admitted my obvious ulterior motive in posting ideological crap like this: unbridled Nipponophilia. Why, just last Sunday, while MKL was doing his own thing and visiting the Taipei Guest House, I was up in the mountains of Xindian.
Rarely has the Bushido warrior spirit been more in evidence than at this location, where a handful of heroes, armed with little more than bamboo sticks, kept at least 300 white devils at bay for three months.
These barbarians, who had deliberately starved and beaten themselves, to give their ghostly white carcasses an even more ghastly aspect, were only saved by the timely intervention of their brethren who then had the cheek to start pontificating about war crimes.
But if there were any crimes committed, they were indubitably against the Emperor who embodies the honour and greatness of Mighty Nippon! After all, our titans had to watch these vile dogs defecating, coughing up blood and working themselves to death in some twisted attempt to demonstrate the much vaunted British stiff upper lip. Pathetic.
Naturally, when I saw the stone by the roadside apparently placed there to commemorate the misdeeds of these scoundrels, I spat at it, hoisted the Rising Sun from a nearby tree and cried Banzai! Then I committed seppukku in honour of our fallen warriors.
At least I would have if it hadn’t been so hot and I hadn’t fell so, er, dizzy Gil-san …
Hilarious, where is the comeback MKL. Although to be fare i have seen that sumo loving JB on countless occasions swilling that disgraceful Asahi beer. I mean what more evidence do you need of his nipponophilic styles and i’ve seen him eat a little sushi in a private room before. The ultimate sycophant of the rising sun!