The chicken is not exactly one of the great animals of legend and literature, and is more often associated with the dinner table than with anything else. But with the beginning of the Year of the Chicken (or Cockerel or Rooster), it is imperative to find something to say about chickens other than the fact that the Mandarin for chicken, "ji" (
Unfortunately, what with all the trouble over avian flu, chickens have not even been a harbinger of good fortune recently. The People's Daily reported that representatives of China's top 100 poultry companies found it necessary last March to gather in the Great Hall of the People to consume a banquet of chicken to prove that the fowl was still all right for the dinner table. Taiwan, which was relatively unaffected, had hopes to make a killing from exporting chicken to Southeast Asia.
But with the rooster crowing in a new dawn, hopefully things will be looking up in 2005 -- both for chickens and for the rest of us.
But the trouble with chickens is that of all the beasts of the Chinese zodiac, they are one of the least exulted. They do not figure much in legend or fable, and for those of us who live in the city, a chicken is something that comes in a polystyrene tray and shrink-wrap, and really has very little to do with feathers, crowing at dawn or even eggs.
If the chicken can be said to represent anything, it is the homely and the mundane. It is associated with village life, the diurnal routine.
But while scrapping the bottom of the barrel for any kind of hype about the lowly chicken, it has been noted that of the 42,863 poems complied in the Complete Tang Poems (全唐詩), there are 992 that mention chickens. Tu Fu (杜甫), arguably the Tang dynasty's foremost poet, even has a poem entitled The Chicken.
But a quick look at the content of these poems only entrenches the chicken in the mundane world. Typical of references to chickens is the phrase "garlic skins and chicken feathers" (雞毛蒜皮), which refers to trivial, unimportant things, and the earthy phrase about preferring to be "a chicken' s beak rather than a cow's behind" (雞口牛後), which is rather similar to being a big fish in a little pond.
The look of the chicken is open to somewhat wide interpretation, ranging from the cocky preening of the rooster to the loose, sagging skin of the plucked hen. To describe a person has having "chicken skin and crane-like hair" (雞皮鶴髮) is to describe a wrinkled and white-haired old man. But for the sake of those born in the Year of the Chicken, the qualities of the rooster are referred:
People born in the Year of the Chicken usually are good looking and like to show themselves off. Instead of being idle, they always appear to be decent and shrewd in public.
Well, that might be a rooster, but there are also other commentators who suggest that given the endless cycle of ying and yang that rules Chinese cosmology, the Year of the Chicken falls in a ying year. Because of this, there really should be a hen year rather than a rooster year, but then no one really has much to say about hens that is not related to either eggs or the cooking pot.
Looking at the forecast for the next lunar year, it is really not possible to get away from the male imagery. As the Year of the Monkey leads into the Year of the Rooster, there are many indications that troubles will not be easily solved and that overconfidence is going to be a problem for everyone, since both roosters and monkeys are both rather self-regarding creatures. It is a year of hard-line politics and rash business ventures, so it will need all the efforts of more stable zodiac characters to balance things out.
But ultimately, it is the cockerel's crow heralding a new beginning that is probably the most potent symbol for this year. The Tang poet Li He (李賀) said it all when he wrote, "My soul wonders beyond recall, the cockerel's crow brings light of day" (我有迷魂招不得雄雞一聲天下白).
In the March 9 edition of the Taipei Times a piece by Ninon Godefroy ran with the headine “The quiet, gentle rhythm of Taiwan.” It started with the line “Taiwan is a small, humble place. There is no Eiffel Tower, no pyramids — no singular attraction that draws the world’s attention.” I laughed out loud at that. This was out of no disrespect for the author or the piece, which made some interesting analogies and good points about how both Din Tai Fung’s and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC, 台積電) meticulous attention to detail and quality are not quite up to
April 21 to April 27 Hsieh Er’s (謝娥) political fortunes were rising fast after she got out of jail and joined the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) in December 1945. Not only did she hold key positions in various committees, she was elected the only woman on the Taipei City Council and headed to Nanjing in 1946 as the sole Taiwanese female representative to the National Constituent Assembly. With the support of first lady Soong May-ling (宋美齡), she started the Taipei Women’s Association and Taiwan Provincial Women’s Association, where she
It is one of the more remarkable facts of Taiwan history that it was never occupied or claimed by any of the numerous kingdoms of southern China — Han or otherwise — that lay just across the water from it. None of their brilliant ministers ever discovered that Taiwan was a “core interest” of the state whose annexation was “inevitable.” As Paul Kua notes in an excellent monograph laying out how the Portuguese gave Taiwan the name “Formosa,” the first Europeans to express an interest in occupying Taiwan were the Spanish. Tonio Andrade in his seminal work, How Taiwan Became Chinese,
Mongolian influencer Anudari Daarya looks effortlessly glamorous and carefree in her social media posts — but the classically trained pianist’s road to acceptance as a transgender artist has been anything but easy. She is one of a growing number of Mongolian LGBTQ youth challenging stereotypes and fighting for acceptance through media representation in the socially conservative country. LGBTQ Mongolians often hide their identities from their employers and colleagues for fear of discrimination, with a survey by the non-profit LGBT Centre Mongolia showing that only 20 percent of people felt comfortable coming out at work. Daarya, 25, said she has faced discrimination since she