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A review by steveatwaywords
Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See
dark
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.5
See has her fans; she is undoubtedly quite popular for this particular brand of storytelling: sad stories of old China. And true enough, if you have not read anything of the world of "privileged" women in pre-modern East Asia, this will offer some fairly graphic insights. Equally, the author's own learning of an historical secret writing for women makes for an interesting premise for storytelling.
But I'm afraid that neither of these historical premises (foot-binding and other suffering by Chinese and Japanese women for the sake of beauty nor the language of nu shu) are nearly sufficient to sustain a good novel. I found myself frustrated at two levels:
First, the characters and their own growth itself: we might hope to see the development of their ideas, of their relationship, of their understanding of their own condition, etc. But these fundamentals to storytelling take a far backseat to outside events (many beyond their experience or understanding) which impact their fortunes. What political drama which exists within the female community itself is also resolved through time and death, not through the actions or understandings of our protagonists. In other words, our characters are long-suffering from start to finish. And yes, this might be "historically accurate," but this is not a history; it's a novel. The final conflict/complication around the secret language (the sustained conceit for the story) arises from such a simply elementary misunderstanding as to be unreasonably ignorant even from this white male reader's immediate response. Is <i>this</i> really what we have been building towards?
My second concern is a bit different, and I admit that I believe reading writers like James Clavell (Shogun) and Arthur Golden (Memoirs of a Geisha) is problematic. I kept asking myself not just why I was reading this (it came recommended), but why it was written. It's a bit like writing about an idealistic sheriff in the mythological American Old West and saying, "I wrote a story of the United States!" Truly, are there no other stories to write of China than of this world of silks and tea? If we want to stay with historical fiction of China, are there no other eras of classes from which to draw across its thousands of years of history? Reading this felt oddly voyeuristic, so focused through this single misaligned peephole into a vast and complex culture.
It's true that I have also been recently reading contemporary writers from China, and so perhaps the comparison isn't entirely fair. But there it is, a comparison. There are far better choices into literary China, and I don't see what this book in that light has to offer.
But I'm afraid that neither of these historical premises (foot-binding and other suffering by Chinese and Japanese women for the sake of beauty nor the language of nu shu) are nearly sufficient to sustain a good novel. I found myself frustrated at two levels:
First, the characters and their own growth itself: we might hope to see the development of their ideas, of their relationship, of their understanding of their own condition, etc. But these fundamentals to storytelling take a far backseat to outside events (many beyond their experience or understanding) which impact their fortunes. What political drama which exists within the female community itself is also resolved through time and death, not through the actions or understandings of our protagonists. In other words, our characters are long-suffering from start to finish. And yes, this might be "historically accurate," but this is not a history; it's a novel. The final conflict/complication around the secret language (the sustained conceit for the story) arises from such a simply elementary misunderstanding as to be unreasonably ignorant even from this white male reader's immediate response. Is <i>this</i> really what we have been building towards?
My second concern is a bit different, and I admit that I believe reading writers like James Clavell (Shogun) and Arthur Golden (Memoirs of a Geisha) is problematic. I kept asking myself not just why I was reading this (it came recommended), but why it was written. It's a bit like writing about an idealistic sheriff in the mythological American Old West and saying, "I wrote a story of the United States!" Truly, are there no other stories to write of China than of this world of silks and tea? If we want to stay with historical fiction of China, are there no other eras of classes from which to draw across its thousands of years of history? Reading this felt oddly voyeuristic, so focused through this single misaligned peephole into a vast and complex culture.
It's true that I have also been recently reading contemporary writers from China, and so perhaps the comparison isn't entirely fair. But there it is, a comparison. There are far better choices into literary China, and I don't see what this book in that light has to offer.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death of parent and Death
Moderate: Grief, Classism, Domestic abuse, Physical abuse, Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship, Gaslighting, Sexual content, Child death, Confinement, Suicide, Pregnancy, War, Rape, Misogyny, Infertility, Injury/Injury detail, Pandemic/Epidemic, Miscarriage, and Medical trauma