Permanent walk

In a foreign land then, in another city now, we who walk within them,

are ultimately insignificant specimens in the vastness of eternity.

Li Shiyong's second collection of essays

Written for those who refuse to leave the stage of time

　　"Eternal Stroll" compiles writer Li Shiyong's unclear journey, and is also an eternal inquiry: "Where do we come from? Who are we? Where are we going?" "I. Lighthouse Street" captures his fleeting moments in Somerville, living by the Charles River in Boston, like a dreamer. But more often, he soothes his anxious heart with music/dance/films, settling the silence and predicaments of those days, always walking long distances, observing deep darkness, filling a blank period of life at his desk by the window. It's like "standing in the middle of life. The future is not yet revealed, and deeply feeling the loneliness of the gorge." "II. Monument" can be seen as another lyrical dialogue to Shiyong's research and writing of "Re-enchantment: The Savage and Civilized in Post-colonial Taiwanese Writing." He stepped out of documents and writing spaces, actually visiting historical sites such as Xincheng, Wushe, Lushan, and Orchid Island, re-reading the footsteps of writers who walked ahead on the island. Those novels and images became doors; only by arriving with his own feet could he "truly begin to approach the origin of the event."

　　This book is characterized by its continuous, unchaptered editing style, the intimate language of a personal diary, and the leaps in time and shifts in space, forming a Möbius strip like flowing water. An ending period might be the start of a new paragraph, and a moment of hesitation paused is another beginning. The post office delivering news from the island, the station situated in the middle of the bridge, the riverside after forty-four sunsets... From the island's dawn to the dusk of Somerville; from "Für Elise" in his thirties to "Eternal Stroll" now, along the way marking where people come from. Lost, circling, inverted, paused; where should they go? Looking back is his gaze, defying oblivion and refusing to leave the stage.