Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.13 AVERAGE
4.13 AVERAGE
dark
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
challenging
dark
sad
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
‘I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of no longer living.’
The 19th century American west has been mined for as many stories as it was gold and silver. The stories typically call to mind (white) men in heroic gun fights that end in dust and blood and glory, though the last few years have seen some excellent re-examinations of the Western genre to expand the horizons of who’s stories are told. Four Treasures of the Sky, the impressive debut novel by Jenny Tinghui Zhang, is a fresh approach to 19th century Wild West framed around the Chinese Exclusion Act and violence towards Chinese labororers told through the eyes of a young Chinese woman brought by force to the United States. The novel reads with the spirit of an epic, spanning continents and years in Daiyu’s life as they are thrust into perilous situation after perilous situation from being kidnapped and sold into sex work to disguising themself as a man to navigate the violent white man’s world of 19th century Idaho. While a bit uneven in tone and pacing, Four Treasures of the Sky is a fascinating debut that feels well researched and adds an important voice into stories of history and makes for a harrowing reading experience bursting full of poetic language and interpersonal insights.
‘There is no such thing as luck, I told him. Luck is just readiness that meets opportunity.’
This novel comes at a time when another uptick in anti-Asian hate crimes has become major headline news and anti-Chinese sentiments lurk about. In an interview with NPR, Zhang says writing the novel during the early months of the COVID pandemic ‘didn't even feel like I was writing about history. It just felt like so present day and in the moment.’ Which is all very distressing how little changes. And while the same hatred still creeps about today, the novel is very much about a period in history and gives a fresh look at the Western genre and period of American history from a new vantage point.
Daiyu’s life is one of seemingly endless abrupt turns. Orphaned at an early age, Daiyu seemingly lives multiple lives over the span of this novel, disguised as a boy named Feng working for a calligraphy teachers before being kidnapped and sent into sexual slavery in San Francisco, and then later discussed as a man. The frequent shift makes self-identity an unstable land territory. ‘Daiyu to Feng to Peony to Jacob Li. When will I be me again?’ she wonders, ‘and if I become me again, will I know who she is?’ To guide her along the way, Daiyu is often visited by the spirit of her namesake, Lin Daiyu( 林黛玉), who comes from [b:Dream of the Red Chamber|535739|Dream of the Red Chamber|Tsao Hsueh-Chin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1645905884l/535739._SY75_.jpg|523200], an 18th century manuscript by [a:Cao Xueqin|5029521|Cao Xueqin|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1318088381p2/5029521.jpg] considered one of the four Classic Chinese novels. In the story, Lin Daiyu is orphaned and when, due to trickery, she witnesses her love marry another woman she dies, and her frequent visitations during times of difficulty become a reminder to the real Daiyu to be strong and not allow herself to be destroyed. ‘The inkstone asks for destruction before creation,’ Daiyu tells us, ‘You must first destroy yourself, grind yourself into a paste, before becoming a work of art.’ Through each transformation and each moment of pure destruction upon her life, Daiyu continues to resurrect like a phoenix, becoming a figure larger than life and walk amongst the myths and legends of the West.
‘I felt different pieces of my being sliding into place, as if I had just unlocked an extraordinary secret about myself.’
The altering identities often serve to examine power structures around gender binaries, such as how men (particularly white men) seem to have access to violence while society looks the other way as long as it is directed at someone socially deemed beneath them (by race, class, or if they are a woman). While disguised as a man to be able to navigate the patriarchal society, Daiyu often reflects on what this means to inhabit the space of a man:
The novel does seem to avoid any relationship towards trans identities, in case you were looking for that, or any queer aspects as well. Daiyu does find a romantic outlet in the later half of the novel but it is thwarted simply because he believes she is a man.
Though while enjoying the privileges being male presenting gives in a patriarchal society, Daiyu quickly discovers that her race marks her as an Other, a threat, and as less-than-human in the eyes of the white society. ‘I am something they cannot fathom,’ she reflects, ‘I am something they fear. We all are.’ The aspects of racial violence will have your stomach in knots, Zhang truly delivers a sense of dread and discomfort as she examines how even with best attempts at assimilation, whiteness will play gatekeeper to the point of violence at every opportunity. This is only emboldened by the Chinese Exclusion Act, which propels the later portion of the novel towards its bloody and tense climax that resonates with an emotionally charged grimness that feels like the Coen brothers would want to film it.
‘The artist must master the art of releasing the brush, giving it the space and freedom to find itself again.’
My favorite aspects of the novel are Zhang’s incredible phrasing and poetic languages and the musings on art and creation. The lessons here are incredible, take a look:
The examination of the calligraphy functions as a metaphor for the pursuit of the Self in many ways, as the notion of becoming art through your being is a recurring motif in the novel. This also becomes insightful to the multiple layers and dynamic character building of the narrator as each adopted identity compiles together. Though, even if only taken on a surface level, the lessons on being an artist are just as instructive and inspiring:
It is a bit unfortunate that the novel itself occasionally does not live up to it’s own instructions. I found the tone and pacing to be rather uneven, with the interim sequences often needing a push and overly caught up in their own details at the same time as I found each segment of Daiyu’s life to feel underdeveloped and skipped through too quickly. The novel is impressively well researched but sometimes the details eat the scenery and it feels almost too close to itself and belaboring the individual moments without flowing from one to the next as smoothly as it could have. This is a novel of important lessons and voices though, the tone of it for me felt it could have leaned into its own darkness more instead of seeming uncertain which tone to take. There is a lot of telling at the expense of showing, particularly when it is making a point it wants you to know is about something bad (it does not tip into trauma porn though, but readers seeking content warnings should be advised violence and sexual assault are frequent) and many aspects felt overworked. Part of this may be from having just read [b:Beasts of a Little Land|57151981|Beasts of a Little Land|Juhea Kim|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1614930101l/57151981._SY75_.jpg|86224642] and for the similar scenes these two books share I felt Beasts did some of them more effectively (to be clear they are very different histories, but similar moments). This did not detract from enjoying the moments things really connect, it just could have all meshed more effectively.
Four Treasures of the Sky is a lovely debut with a lot of heart and a wonderful depth of knowledge and history. Especially of a history that often gets swept under the rug. As poet and writer [a:Cathy Park Hong|228167|Cathy Park Hong|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png] says in her memoir [b:Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning|58535827|Minor Feelings An Asian American Reckoning|Cathy Park Hong|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1626045369l/58535827._SY75_.jpg|72657866], ‘The problem with silence is that it can’t speak up and say why it’s silent. And so silence collects, becomes amplified…and eventually this silence passes over into forgetting.’ Jenny Tinghui Zhang is a fresh and necessary voice, with a powerful prose subverting the idea of novels of the Wild West and delivering a wonderful and dynamic heroine for us to follow and root for. The supporting cast is fantastic as well. I will be eager for their next book.
3.5/5
‘My life was written for me from the moment the name was given to me. Or it was not. That is the true beauty. That is the intent. We can practice all we want, telling and retelling the same story, but the story that comes out of your mouth, from your brush, is one that only you can tell. So let it be. Let your story be yours, and my story be mine.’
The 19th century American west has been mined for as many stories as it was gold and silver. The stories typically call to mind (white) men in heroic gun fights that end in dust and blood and glory, though the last few years have seen some excellent re-examinations of the Western genre to expand the horizons of who’s stories are told. Four Treasures of the Sky, the impressive debut novel by Jenny Tinghui Zhang, is a fresh approach to 19th century Wild West framed around the Chinese Exclusion Act and violence towards Chinese labororers told through the eyes of a young Chinese woman brought by force to the United States. The novel reads with the spirit of an epic, spanning continents and years in Daiyu’s life as they are thrust into perilous situation after perilous situation from being kidnapped and sold into sex work to disguising themself as a man to navigate the violent white man’s world of 19th century Idaho. While a bit uneven in tone and pacing, Four Treasures of the Sky is a fascinating debut that feels well researched and adds an important voice into stories of history and makes for a harrowing reading experience bursting full of poetic language and interpersonal insights.
‘There is no such thing as luck, I told him. Luck is just readiness that meets opportunity.’
This novel comes at a time when another uptick in anti-Asian hate crimes has become major headline news and anti-Chinese sentiments lurk about. In an interview with NPR, Zhang says writing the novel during the early months of the COVID pandemic ‘didn't even feel like I was writing about history. It just felt like so present day and in the moment.’ Which is all very distressing how little changes. And while the same hatred still creeps about today, the novel is very much about a period in history and gives a fresh look at the Western genre and period of American history from a new vantage point.
Daiyu’s life is one of seemingly endless abrupt turns. Orphaned at an early age, Daiyu seemingly lives multiple lives over the span of this novel, disguised as a boy named Feng working for a calligraphy teachers before being kidnapped and sent into sexual slavery in San Francisco, and then later discussed as a man. The frequent shift makes self-identity an unstable land territory. ‘Daiyu to Feng to Peony to Jacob Li. When will I be me again?’ she wonders, ‘and if I become me again, will I know who she is?’ To guide her along the way, Daiyu is often visited by the spirit of her namesake, Lin Daiyu( 林黛玉), who comes from [b:Dream of the Red Chamber|535739|Dream of the Red Chamber|Tsao Hsueh-Chin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1645905884l/535739._SY75_.jpg|523200], an 18th century manuscript by [a:Cao Xueqin|5029521|Cao Xueqin|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1318088381p2/5029521.jpg] considered one of the four Classic Chinese novels. In the story, Lin Daiyu is orphaned and when, due to trickery, she witnesses her love marry another woman she dies, and her frequent visitations during times of difficulty become a reminder to the real Daiyu to be strong and not allow herself to be destroyed. ‘The inkstone asks for destruction before creation,’ Daiyu tells us, ‘You must first destroy yourself, grind yourself into a paste, before becoming a work of art.’ Through each transformation and each moment of pure destruction upon her life, Daiyu continues to resurrect like a phoenix, becoming a figure larger than life and walk amongst the myths and legends of the West.
‘I felt different pieces of my being sliding into place, as if I had just unlocked an extraordinary secret about myself.’
The altering identities often serve to examine power structures around gender binaries, such as how men (particularly white men) seem to have access to violence while society looks the other way as long as it is directed at someone socially deemed beneath them (by race, class, or if they are a woman). While disguised as a man to be able to navigate the patriarchal society, Daiyu often reflects on what this means to inhabit the space of a man:
‘But being a man demands more. For the ruse to work, the transformation must take place under the skin, in all the corners of myself that I have not yet even come to understand. What does it mean to be a man? My experiences then told me everything. It was a matter of believing oneself invincible and strong and owed everything.’
The novel does seem to avoid any relationship towards trans identities, in case you were looking for that, or any queer aspects as well. Daiyu does find a romantic outlet in the later half of the novel but it is thwarted simply because he believes she is a man.
Though while enjoying the privileges being male presenting gives in a patriarchal society, Daiyu quickly discovers that her race marks her as an Other, a threat, and as less-than-human in the eyes of the white society. ‘I am something they cannot fathom,’ she reflects, ‘I am something they fear. We all are.’ The aspects of racial violence will have your stomach in knots, Zhang truly delivers a sense of dread and discomfort as she examines how even with best attempts at assimilation, whiteness will play gatekeeper to the point of violence at every opportunity. This is only emboldened by the Chinese Exclusion Act, which propels the later portion of the novel towards its bloody and tense climax that resonates with an emotionally charged grimness that feels like the Coen brothers would want to film it.
‘The artist must master the art of releasing the brush, giving it the space and freedom to find itself again.’
My favorite aspects of the novel are Zhang’s incredible phrasing and poetic languages and the musings on art and creation. The lessons here are incredible, take a look:
‘In calligraphy, you must have respect for what you are writing and who you are writing for. But above all, you must have respect for yourself. It is the monumental task of creating unity between the person you are and the person you could be. Think: What kind of person could you become, both as yourself and as an artist?’
The examination of the calligraphy functions as a metaphor for the pursuit of the Self in many ways, as the notion of becoming art through your being is a recurring motif in the novel. This also becomes insightful to the multiple layers and dynamic character building of the narrator as each adopted identity compiles together. Though, even if only taken on a surface level, the lessons on being an artist are just as instructive and inspiring:
‘Every calligrapher, every artist, starts the same way, he said. They set out to create art. But this intentionality is what makes the art become work rather than art. What you must practice is creating art without a destination or plan in mind, relying only on your discipline and training and good spirit. This is a stage few calligraphers will ever reach. This is what following your heart looks like.’
It is a bit unfortunate that the novel itself occasionally does not live up to it’s own instructions. I found the tone and pacing to be rather uneven, with the interim sequences often needing a push and overly caught up in their own details at the same time as I found each segment of Daiyu’s life to feel underdeveloped and skipped through too quickly. The novel is impressively well researched but sometimes the details eat the scenery and it feels almost too close to itself and belaboring the individual moments without flowing from one to the next as smoothly as it could have. This is a novel of important lessons and voices though, the tone of it for me felt it could have leaned into its own darkness more instead of seeming uncertain which tone to take. There is a lot of telling at the expense of showing, particularly when it is making a point it wants you to know is about something bad (it does not tip into trauma porn though, but readers seeking content warnings should be advised violence and sexual assault are frequent) and many aspects felt overworked. Part of this may be from having just read [b:Beasts of a Little Land|57151981|Beasts of a Little Land|Juhea Kim|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1614930101l/57151981._SY75_.jpg|86224642] and for the similar scenes these two books share I felt Beasts did some of them more effectively (to be clear they are very different histories, but similar moments). This did not detract from enjoying the moments things really connect, it just could have all meshed more effectively.
Four Treasures of the Sky is a lovely debut with a lot of heart and a wonderful depth of knowledge and history. Especially of a history that often gets swept under the rug. As poet and writer [a:Cathy Park Hong|228167|Cathy Park Hong|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png] says in her memoir [b:Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning|58535827|Minor Feelings An Asian American Reckoning|Cathy Park Hong|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1626045369l/58535827._SY75_.jpg|72657866], ‘The problem with silence is that it can’t speak up and say why it’s silent. And so silence collects, becomes amplified…and eventually this silence passes over into forgetting.’ Jenny Tinghui Zhang is a fresh and necessary voice, with a powerful prose subverting the idea of novels of the Wild West and delivering a wonderful and dynamic heroine for us to follow and root for. The supporting cast is fantastic as well. I will be eager for their next book.
3.5/5
‘My life was written for me from the moment the name was given to me. Or it was not. That is the true beauty. That is the intent. We can practice all we want, telling and retelling the same story, but the story that comes out of your mouth, from your brush, is one that only you can tell. So let it be. Let your story be yours, and my story be mine.’
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
informative
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
This book is interesting conceptually and sheds light on an important, horrific, and often overlooked era of America's past. But the plot was very scattered for me. It didn't seem like we got any forward momentum -- the whole plot felt one step forward, two steps back. The characters also felt very flat to me, especially the peripheral characters. I also HATED the ending -- not saying it was a bad ending story-wise, but a book that is so unrelentingly bleak and depressing isn't really for me.
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
Wonderful story and narration. I had different expectations for how the story would play out, but after hearing an interview with the author, the story made more sense.
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
I commend the author for wanting to bring this story, and the horrific racism Chinese immigrants faced in 1800s America (and that they still face today unfortunately).
However, I found the writing clunky, the plot/ tone to be bleak to the point of nonsense, and the characters to be hollow. I didn’t gain any new perspective or lesson from this because I was already aware of atrocities outlined in the story. The characters and plot outside of the horrific events felt contrived purely for the sake of having bad things happen to the main character.
However, I found the writing clunky, the plot/ tone to be bleak to the point of nonsense, and the characters to be hollow. I didn’t gain any new perspective or lesson from this because I was already aware of atrocities outlined in the story. The characters and plot outside of the horrific events felt contrived purely for the sake of having bad things happen to the main character.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racial slurs, Racism, Rape, Murder
The Chinese Exclusion Act of the late 1800’s is historical yes, but Trump’s rhetoric just continues to perpetuate the racism experienced in our Asian community in this country. I am happy to read more stories that bring to life the reality for so many people in our country whose voices are needing to be heard.