Walking Through History in the Kishu An Forest of Literature

“All of a sudden, I knew I had found the magic of this enchanted ‘forest’ because at that moment in time — time stood still.”

If you ever find yourself roaming around the southern part of Taipei city near Guting station, you might not see many people heading south on Tongan street, except for those returning to their homes. Tucked away in this neighbourhood is a hidden gem — a heritage site known as Kishu An (紀州庵).

Kishu An: Past and Present

Annex of Kishu An is seen on the left of this old photo
Courtesy of Kishu An Forest of Literature

This neighbourhood was part of ‘Cheng Nan’ (literally ‘southern part of the city’). Back in the old days, this part of Cheng Nan was mostly populated by officials, teachers and scholars alike, and it reputedly became a ‘cultural and educational’ district. As a place of incubation for young literati and writers, this cultural hub was home to a number of literary magazines and prestigious publishers, and played a significant role throughout the development of Taiwan’s post-war literature.

Kishu An — first opened as a restaurant during Japanese occupation in 1917 — is found on the southern end of Tongan Street near the riverbank. The name ‘Kishu’ makes reference to the Kishu Domain in Edo-period Japan (spanning areas of present-day Wakayama and southern Mie prefectures) while ‘An’ refers to the thatched hut associated with literati, symbolising restaurant owner’s longing for his hometown across the sea.

At its peak, Kishu An Restaurant was a complex of a three-storey building and an annex, which was forced to close down during the outbreak of Pacific War. First served as a shelter for the wounded, the premise was made temporary housing for the Japanese before it was converted to dormitory by Chinese Nationalist government. By the end of 20th century, Kishu An was caught on fire twice; what’s left of history was an annex with leaking roof and damaged beam structures.

Kishu An Forest of Literature

After restoration work that lasted for about a year long, Kishu An Forest of Literature was opened to the public in 2014. At today’s Kishu An, visitors will not only be able to uncover the power of literature through a variety of workshops and lectures, but also the forgotten history of this heritage site. The rebirth of Kishu An as a “forest” has allowed literature to walk into our daily lives, making a seemingly distant subject like that of literature more relevant to public at large.

My Face-to-Face Encounter with Kishu An

The writer has known about Kishu An for nearly a decade but it wasn’t until March this year that I had the opportunity to make my visit.

It’s hard to forget that it was raining cats and dogs on my first visit to Kishu An. My shoes and trousers were soaked in rain despite the fact that I had an umbrella. My readers would’ve asked: what were you doing here on a rainy Saturday afternoon? Well, I was here to attend a lecture on poetry.

This lecture was part of a program series — taught by renowned author and literary critic CHEN Fang-Ming — with each session focus on a different post-war poet and their work. I signed up for two of the sessions and read through the poetry of Taiwanese poet YANG Mu and ZHOU Meng Die under the guidance of CHEN who also shared the anecdote of his personal encounter with these two poets when he was young.

Though it was somewhat uncomfortable to sit through 2 hours of lecture with my wet shoes, I also appreciated the poetic experience of reading poetry while looking out the window that sheltered us from the pouring rain. It was my first time to study post-war poetry in-depth, during the process of which I’ve also discovered the tales of many little things. While I’m not an expert on literature nor poetry, I hope to share with you readers some of the soul-touching inspirations I’ve had when opportunity arises in the future.

Looking into Kishu An Literature Forest

After class, I walked out of the main building where the lecture was held and made my way towards the historic annex located only a few steps away. It was perhaps the rain that made this exceptional architecture appear much older than its age.

Guarded by ancient banyan trees near the entrance, this Japanese-style house built in wood stood there — surrounded by lush greenery. I walked up the ramp that leads to the entrance with caution, afraid that too much force would break its seemingly fragile structure. Only later did I realise that it was my ignorance and underestimation of the amount of strength that nature holds.

Main hall of Kishu An Literature Forest

Once I took off my shoes at the entrance, I invited myself into the main hall. The main hall was extremely spacious, with its floor covered with tatami mats that functioned like a cushion for every step I took. Thanks to the rain, there was a lot less visitors during the time of my visit so I made myself at home. The vintage ceiling lamp — a perfect match for this historic house — lights up the supposedly dim space on this gloomy day.

Located to the northern end of the main hall was a space dedicated to the display of some of the building’s architectural structures, possibly retrieved during the restoration. While there was only a few number of items on display, it occurred to the writer that the house was in itself a living exhibition in which everyone is invited to walk through its history using different senses, such as sight, touch, hearing and, most importantly, seeing or imagining what life would be like if the clock was turned back.

Secret Hideout at Kishu An

Reading poetry inside Kishu An Literature of Forest

During this visit, this writer has also discovered a perfect hideout for an afternoon read. This hideout — an elongated corridor-like space — is located behind the main hall. The windows that line on both sides of the walls transform this place into a liminal space that connects the interior and the exterior; it’s as if this artificial construction has been blended into the greenery that surrounds the premise.

So I walked towards the back of this empty room and grabbed myself a seat, sitting there comfortably and read poetry in natural light. From time to time, I would look up from the book in my hand and looked out the window into the forest trees that guard this time-honoured building. All of a sudden, I felt the magic of this enchanted forest because at that moment in time — time stood still.