october bookclub: notes of a crocodile

pre-reading notes

if you’ve been keeping up with my page you know i’m hosting a little book club through here that has officially started now that it is october! the book is “notes of a crocodile” by qiu miaojin. before officially beginning it, i wanted to share some things to provide context whilst going into the book.

qiu miaojin

qiu miaojin was born in 1969 in changhua county in western taiwan. she went to a prominent all-girl’s high school in taipei, then graduated with a major in psychology from the national taiwan university. within the years following her graduation, she was a reporter for the magazine ‘the journalist’, and also published numerous articles and short stories in various local newspapers, even winning a prize for one. additionally at this time she published her first prominent work, a novella length story titled “platonic hair”, which was the first of her works to include lesbian themes, exploring the experience of lesbian survival in taiwan at the time. (as i write this i haven’t yet read the short story, but here’s the one link i could find to an english translation of the it! the annotations on it are kind of funny though haha)

from 1949 to 1987 taiwan was under martial law, so with the lifting of it in 1987 the country became more democratized, and the people of taiwan had more rights in freedom of speech and opportunity for organization. i’d imagine this definitely influenced qiu in her confidence and ability to put her work out to the world. a year ago i actually wrote a bit about taiwanese filmmaker tsai ming-liang and his film “the hole” (link here for the essay if you’re interested, it was rushed and not great but it’s still informative haha). anyways, in the essay i cited david frazier’s “1980’s taiwan: conflicted legacy, perfect paradox” explanation of the time period being “a chaotic milieu which blurred freedom and authoritarianism, and in its midst, arts and social movements exploded”. i bring up tsai ming-liang because he absolutely explores this multifaceted environment, in one way a long-awaited moment of freedom, and an opportunity for exploring marginalized experiences through art, but at the same time still a bit frenzied in it’s transitions. it seems that the work of both qiu miaojin and tsai ming-liang share strong themes of alienation. (it’s notable to mention that ming-liang is not only one of the most prominent taiwanese artists/filmmakers, but also queer, and the queer experience in taiwan at that time is frequently explored in his films. i’m sure i’ll be bringing up ming-liang again, but i’ll just say right now that i really really love his films, and highly encourage you to watch some. i think rebels of the neon god could be a good film to start with as it’s one of his first films, explores queer desire, and depicts the environment of taipei really well. however i’ve also seen and loved the hole, goodbye dragon inn, and vive l’amour. watch them all honestly.)

anyways, in 1994 qiu miaojin actually moved to paris pursuing graduate studies in psychology and feminism. she studied under hélène cixous. in this time she learned french and even made a short film, “ghost carnival” (link). it was also then and there that she published notes of a crocodile.

the novel follows a lesbian college student, lazi (“lazi” later becoming a slang term for lesbian in chinese) and her surrounding relationships in late 1980’s taipei. the novel employs animalization (hence: crocodile) to represent the dehumanized, othered, and isolated queer experience due to society’s perceptions and treatments.

as taiwanese author hong ling says about the novel: “in the sweltering summer of 1994, there at last appeared on taiwan’s bleak and barren literary scene a crocodile whose existence it was impossible to overlook. with this, the voice of taiwan’s lesbians truly showed its strength, both in the novel itself, and in readers’ responses to it.”

fran martin says: “qiu miaojin is taiwan's best-known lesbian author. ... qiu's fiction has sometimes been accused of being unduly 'negative' about lesbian experience; however, her status as a public lesbian and intellectual and the emotional honesty and intensity of her writing make her a figure of enduring significance for lesbian readers of chinese everywhere.”

sadly, qiu miaojin committed suicide at 26 in the 1995, just one year following the publication of the novel. her other novel, last words from montmartre, written in the form of letters, takes place one week before her death.

(also— and i’m not entirely sure how true this is but i’d thought i’d share anyway— some people believe that her suicide was committed by stabbing herself in the heart with a kitchen knife, and that this mode of death might be compared to, or interpreted as inspired by or an homage to, yukio mishima’s suicide by seppuku (wikipedia: “seppuku, also called harakiri, is a form of japanese ritualistic suicide by disembowelment. it was originally reserved for samurai in their code of honour, but was also practised by other japanese people during the shōwa era to restore honour for themselves or for their families.”). i find it to be a bit of a stretch but still include it because qiu still undeniably considered mishima as one of her literary forefathers, referencing him on the first page of notes of a crocodile as she expresses the gifts she would like to receive from him, osamu dazai, and haruki murakami. she writes, “i’ll give you the most beautiful picture frame on earth, would you like that? asked yukio mishima.”)

although her life was short, qiu miaojin impact is undeniable, influencing the queer communities in taiwan and china, the taiwanese and worldwide literary scenes, and the queer art world as a whole. i really look forward into diving into this novel of hers, hopefully engaging in discussions with some of you as well, and i’m sure that by the end of this month i’ll also be very encouraged to read my copy of last words from montmartre that has been sitting with my unread books for the past couple of years.

wanhua district (taipei), taiwan (1978) by photographer chang chao-tang

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some practical stuff: notes of a crocodile is 242 pages long and divided into parts of eight “notebooks”. so to stay on track, i hope to read roughly two notebooks a week, or be finished with notebook five at around october 15. at that halfway point i will hopefully make a post about my thoughts so far. if you’re reading with me i’d love to hear your thoughts about the book under that future post, or if you have thoughts to share before i make that post, i’d love to chat with you in the comments of this post! we can also always dm (my instagram is 2wicebittten). for this first month of this book club trial thing i don’t think i’ll make a groupchat, at least not yet, i’ll see how it goes. cool, i’m excited! thanks for reading!