Kirstin Chen is the New York Times best-selling author of three novels. Her latest, Counterfeit, is a Reese Witherspoon book club pick, a Roxane Gay book club pick, and a New York Times Editors’ Choice. It has also been recommended by The Washington Post, People Magazine, Entertainment Weekly, Vogue, Time, Oprah Daily, Harper’s Bazaar, Cosmopolitan, Good Housekeeping, Parade, and more. Her previous two novels are Bury What We Cannot Take and Soy Sauce for Beginners.
This book painted a painful picture of communism in China when the borders closed and the awful choices a family might have to make to get out of there. Did I like it? It was decent but I appreciat the story and intention of the author behind it.
3.5 Twelve year old, Ah Liam is a staunch supporter of the cultural revolution and of Chairman Mao. So much so that he reports his own grandmother for taking a hammer to the picture in their house, the picture every house must have, of their beloved Chairman. Coming from a priviledged background, his family still living in their Villa, albeit on only one floor, but still maintaining a few servents, he already has much to overcome. This act though will start a crushing tide of circumstances, one that will find himself, his mother and grandma fleeing to Hong Kong, but forced to leave his nine year old sister San San, behind.
This book starts out very powerfully, a close look at the cultural revolution and the fear and divisions it caused in families and in its citizens. A time when people were encouraged to tell on each other, to curry favor and gain in status. It is the story of a young girl left behind in the care of servants, that wants only to be reconnected with her family. She sees horrible things, endures much as she tries to escape. I loved the character of San San, hers was the most developed character, the rest just background.
The last part of the book though I thought not as strong. I'm not sure a young, nine year old could do all the things, think the way she does, rationalize and carry out her plans. So I felt the last part of the book lost credibility and turned into an adventure story rather than the strong historical in which it started. Glad I read this though, I did enjoy it for the most part. It is definitely worth reading.
نتذكر وقت كارثة الكورونا...عندما كان يُصرّح أطباء وحدات الرعاية المركزة بأنه لم تعد لديهم رفاهية إنقاذ الجميع. فمحدودية إمكانات الرعاية الطبية أمام الزيادة الكارثية للحالات المتأخرة أجبرت العاملين في الحقل الطبي على القيام باختيارات غير رحيمة من أجل انقاذ ما يُمكن انقاذه. وللأسف سمعنا عن الكثيرين ممن تُركوا يموتون أمام المستشفيات بلا منقذ.
"إن جالك الطوفان حط ابنك تحت رجليك"
مثل شديد القسوة، وربما يقابل ذلك المثل معنى عنوان تلك الرواية "ادفنوا ما لا يمكننا أخذه". ففي خمسينات القرن الماضي، تضطر بطلة الرواية الأم "سوك كون" مرغمة للتضحية بإحدى طفليها لأجل النجاة من النظام الشيوعي القمعي الذي يحكم الصين.
نقف أمام المشهد القاسي لتلك الأم وهى تحاول تقرير مَن مِن ابناءها الإثنان الصغيران ستُجبر على التخلي عنه-بصورة مؤقتة-في ظروف غير آمنة، حتى يتاح له اللحاق بهم في هونج كونج بعيدا عن القبضة الظالمة للنظام الحاكم في وطنها. موقف مرعب وقاتل لأي أم. ولكن بحسابات المنطق، من الذي يمكنه البقاء بشكل مؤقت وحيدا في تلك الظروف، الابن الأكبر الذي يبلغ من العمُر اثنا عشر عاماً، أم الابنة الصغرى التي لم تتخط أعوامها التسع؟
تضعنا المؤلفة في هذا الموقف أمام قضية أخرى وظلم أخر يتعدى ظلم وطن لإبناءه، تضعنا أمام الظلم الذي يتعرض له الإنسان بسبب جنسه أو نوعه. في تلك اللحظة تُقرر الأم أن الابن "الذكر" هو الأحق والأولى بالحفاظ عليه، فذلك ما كان يُقره المجتمع في ذلك الزمن.
ومن هنا، تدفع "سان سان" الإبنة ثمن خطيئة ولادتها في وطن غير آمن، وثمن خطيئة ولادتها كأنثى. تخوض رحلة مرعبة تتساءل فيها في هذا السن الصغير عن قيمتها كإنسانة، وهل كانت لها قيمة من الأساس حتى يتخلى عنها أهلها بهذا الشكل؟
اصابتني رحلة هروب "سان سان" المأساوية بقدر غير هين من الكآبة كادت تدفعني لعدم إكمال الرواية. كابوس رهيب أعرف أنه واقع وليس خيالاً قصصياً يعيشه الكثير من أطفال العالم. ولنا في رضيع سوريا الذي مات غرقاً على ساحل البحر منذ سنوات أكبر مثال.
أشفقت على الأم "سوك كون" وهى يقتلها الندم لتركها ابنتها، هل ظلمتها بالفعل، أم ما حدث كان قدراً أكبر من قدرتها من مواجهته بحكمة وتعقل لتختار بأقل قدر من الخسارة؟
انفطر قلبي لتلك الأم وهى تجري كالمجنونة في كل مكان حتى تستطيع انقاذ ابنتها. وبالمثل وضعت المؤلفة مثل لشخصية الأب الأناني اللامبالي الذي نراه كثيرا في حياتنا الواقعية. الأب الذي لا يعرف عن الأبوة غير أنها مجرد "بنك" يُعيل منه ابناؤه مادياً.
لم يكن أسلوب الكاتبة استثنائياً فيما يتعلق برسم شخصيات تشعر بالقرب منها. فأظن أن الحفاظ على خلق إيقاع لاهث ومتلاحق كان همها الأكبر. وأجد أنها استطاعت خلق حبكة مترابطة ومحكمة-باستثناء النهاية بالطبع-جعلت كل ما يقرا الرواية لا يتركها حتى يُنهيها.
حين وصلت للصفحات الأخيرة في الرواية كانت عيني مليئة بالدموع الغضب والراحة في الوقت ذاته. تروي كريستين تشين قصة عائلة أرستقراطية تضطرها الشيوعية لمغادرة وطنها إلى هونغ كونغ تاركة خلفها الابنة الصغيرة على أمل بالعودة من أجل جلبها قريباً. نتشارك في صفحات هذه الرواية شعور سان سان بالثقة في عائلتها وايمانها التام بعودتهم من أجلها و من ثم و تدريجياً اخد الشعور بالغدر و الخيانة من اقرب البشر إليها و هم عائلتها. تحكي القصة عن ما فعلته الشيوعية في الصين بالعائلات ما انتهكته من حقوق ، و تحكي عن طفلة صغيرة لم كن تستحق أن ترى العالم بهذه الدرجة من الظلام . أحببت الرواية جداً و الترجمة جميلة وسهلة.
Bury What We Cannot Take is a captivating novel about one family's attempt to flee from Communist China in 1957. Having been granted only 3 travel visas to Hong Kong for 4 family members, Seok Koon is forced to leave one of her children behind in order to legally exit the country, and Kirsten Chen explores the ramifications of this harrowing decision.
Bury What We Cannot Take is actually everything I had hoped Girls Burn Brighter was going to be. Both novels follow two parties which have been separated and which spend the novel seeking a reunion, and in both cases, these stories are filled to the brim with tragedy. But where Girls Burn Brighter indulges (at least in my opinion) a bit too heavily in the gruesome details of its characters' plights, Bury What We Cannot Take is more interested in the kind of resilience needed to survive. Though the chapters which follow the left-behind child can be difficult to read, I felt that the narrative was approached with sensitivity, and it quickly earned my emotional investment.
This novel is deceptively short for 300 pages, and as a result, my only complaint is that at times it felt a bit rushed. Though I loved how compelling and immersive it was - I think I read 20% in one sitting and then finished it in another sitting the next day - certain plot points were glossed over, and I wouldn't have minded spending a bit more time with the Ong family.
But ultimately, I really enjoyed this. It's a fantastic look at Communist China and its insidious regime, which follows a host of complex, sympathetic characters aged across multiple generations. Though I hadn't heard of Kirsten Chen before this, I'll definitely be looking into anything she writes in the future.
Thank you to Netgalley, Little A, and Kirsten Chen for the advanced copy provided in exchange for an honest review.
رواية ساحرة، عن عائلة تتقطع أواصرها بسبب ديكتاتورية النظام الحاكم في الصين في تلك الفترة التاريخية، فتقرر أسرة النزوح بعيدًا بسبب ماضيها المعادي للشيوعية، ولكنها تفشل في السفر كوحدة واحدة، لتتجزأ العائلة، وتسافر الأم والجدة والابن، وتُترك فتاة صغيرة لم تتجاوز 9 سنوات، بمفردها، على أمل أن تلحق بالآخرين ولكن الواقع لا يسير وفقًا للأهواء الشخصية.
الرواية سريعة، التهمتها في يوم واحد رغم عدد صفحاتها، رتمها يشدك بقوة، ولكن ما الذي أثار غضبي هي النهاية التي جاءت متعجلة بعض الشيء وغير واقعية بالمرة، أفسدت ما سبقها من صفحات.
"What if a mistake was too grave to live with? What if the guilt wormed its way deep into the flesh and grew more and more potent, devouring tissue and fat and skin, until one day, you looked down and your whole self had been ravaged and nothing remained?"
When nine-year-old San San and twelve-year-old Ah Liam find that their grandma has taken a hammer against the portrait of Chairman Mao, they agree to remain silent. However, in an effort to please the party, Ah Liam reports his grandma. The family already had a plan to flee China, one that they have to expedite now. When Seok Koon, their mother, goes to procure exit visas she is given only three and must choose one child to leave behind. Confident that she will be able to save the child that stays, Seok Koon makes the gut-wrenching decision of who will leave and who stays.
Kirstin Chen is a new author for me. Upon learning the premise of this book, I knew it was something I wanted to read. San San and Ah Liam arrive home from school and find that their grandmother is not in her usual seat, waiting for them. They do find her with a hammer and a smashed portrait of Mao. Knowing the strict rules, they remain quiet. Still, when the opportunity arises for Ah Liam to join the Youth League, he does what he thinks is correct and reports his grandmother. Following the incident, the family speeds up their plans to flee China. Unfortunately, Seok Koon only has an exit visa for one of her children. With a heavy heart, she leaves one of them behind but promises to secure passage for the other soon. I found the prose to be well written and thoughtful. What a moral conundrum. How is a mother supposed to choose between her children? Part coming-of-age, I especially like the narration of San San and Ah Liam. The narrative was harrowing, heartfelt and one that I read in two seatings. As each character struggles with their personal demons, they collectively worry for the one child left behind. Dealing with family and loyalty amid a country in turmoil, this was a great read.
While I enjoyed this book, I do have some issues. I wish this book had been longer, expand on some matters further more. Since this has multiple points of view, I would have liked to hear more from all the characters, particularly Ah Liam. The ending felt abrupt and difficult to grasp. I was by no means expecting a "happily ever after" but wanted something more cohesive to what the narrative had presented. Chen did a great job a presenting the prevalent fear that dominated China. "Red fear" (duubed so for the Red Army) dominated homes, schools and the streets. Reporting family, neighbours and friends was encouraged. Public denunciations and self-critcisms were common and forced even on small children. Anyone believed to be "capitalistic", "rightist" or "bourgeis" was targeted and some were targeted by the party for unknown reasons. All and all, this book presents a compelling narrative with great historical references.
This was a beautifully immersive story and one I know I’ll be thinking about for a long time. Using multiple POVs, Kirstin Chen depicts a family torn apart by unthinkable circumstances. The way she reveals each character’s truths and struggles and triumphs and losses is masterful, elevating the story past the usual question of “what would I do?” to arrive at a deeper, more complex understanding: that there are moments in life which rob us of choice, leaving us in their wake trying to somehow get through it.
In Bury What We Cannot Take, a misjudged moment of anger uproots a family. The very beginning of the novel finds twelve-year-old Ah-Liam and nine-year-old San San returning home from school to discover their grandmother kneeling before the family altar and crying, her skirt partially hiding a hammer. Overlooking the room is a portrait of Chairman Mao “smiling benevolently at all who gazed upon him, oblivious to the spiderweb of cracks that scarred him.”
As recently as 2015, an individual defacing a portrait of Chairman Mao faced a sentence of 14 months jail time. In Bury What We Cannot Take, Ah-Liam and San San imagine much more dire consequences. While San San tries to process her grandmother’s "treasonous capitalist act," her older brother Ah-Liam, fervent to become a member of the Maoist Youth League, writes to the party in secret to confess “the horrific manner in which his grandmother had insulted the Great Helmsman.”
The Ong family tries a ruse to flee — but the government will only give an exit visa to one of the children, and the family is forced to choose who to leave behind, Ah-Liam or San San.
This is just the first five chapters of the book — what follows is a page-turning drama of a divided family struggling to be free, both from capture and from their conscience.
Chen is a precise writer, with enviable control on the page. Bury What We Cannot Take is completely immersive, and the only times I stepped out of the story was to admire the perfection of her word choice. In one instance she writes: “The heady scent of honeysuckle tickled San San’s nostrils, and her sneeze punctured the silence.” I find Chen’s choice of "puncture," so close to "honeysuckle," to be absolutely enchanting. And here’s another majestic precision: “With her back pressed to the high stone wall lining the street, she crab stepped down the hill.” I’ve been equally pleased watching a puzzle piece fitting accurately into place.
This is one of those books whose titles grabbed me before anything else. I'm pleased to report that the rest of the book is just as evocative as that title. In Maoist China, twelve year old Ah Liam reports his grandmother for vandalizing a portrait of Chairman Mao and so starts a terrible chain of events. The family attempts to flee China, but in a heartbreaking plot twist, they are can only take one child. The novel follows the consequences of the devastating choice, Seok Koon (the mother) makes.
The story is dramatic and despite bearing the burden of multiple intersecting characters and subplots, it remains fast-paced. From a third person POV, Chen shows great mastery of a child's voice and San San's character anchors the story excellently. This sophomore novel lucidly captures the plight of the girl child, Chinese history and heartbreaking betrayal. Utterly mesmerizing from the first sentence, Bury What We Cannot Take paints a portrait of family shaken by a grave mistake, the results of which will linger after the story ends. This is what makes the book spectacular.
Kirstin Chen's Bury What We Cannot Take is unsettling, vivid and compulsively readable. Highly recommended.
كيف يمكن لطفلة لم تبلغ التاسعه من عمرها، ان تقاسي كل ذلك، من ترك أهلها لها، الى تعرفها على الوجة الدامي للاشتراكية الصينية و تبجيل الافكار السخيفة ل ماوتسي تونج، و رؤيتها لمعلمتها و زوجها اللذان كانا اكثر من اهل لها، يعدمان فقط لانهما قررا الفرار بحياتهما و حياتها من جنة الله على الارض؟! كيف لها ان تهرب من الصين، لتلتقي اهلها في هونغ كونغ و هي من لم تعرف شظف الحياة يوماً؟! نعم هي سان سان من فعلت كل ذلك، لكن هذه الرحلة علمتها معنى الحياة، و معنى المسؤولية. لا أعلم للآن كيف لدولة ان تجعل شخصاً، بشراً إلهاً، يمجدون كل الهراء الذي يقوله، يبحثون في تصرفاته و يفسرونها على انها خلاصهم، يلومون الغرب و العالم الغربي على فقرهم و رداءة حياتهم و ينسون ذلك الذي جعلوه إلهاً، و يفرض كل يوم سياسة جديدة لافقارهم و جعلهم عبيدا للمال فقط. كيف يمكن لأب كتشاي، ان يكون بكل هذه السلبية و الوقاحة، ينعم هو بالحياة، و يتخذ عشيقة له و ينجب منها، و بينما زوجته و أولاده يعانون الأمرين في الصين، و لم يفكر للحظه بانقاذهم من ذلك الجحيم. كانت سوك شخصية فريدة، تجمع المتناقضات كلها، فهي لطيفة و قوية، لينة و حازمه، ما لم افهمه قط كيف تركت ابنتها سان سان لوحدها في الصين و غادرت تنشد النجاة!! ابدعت الكاتبة كرستين تشين عملا رائعا، صور جزءاً من سوداوية الاشتراكية الصينية و ظلمها، كان اسلوبها سلسا ممتعا، لدرجة اني التهمت ٤٠٠ صفحة خلال ٤ ساعات فقط. ❤️
Heartfelt but slight tale of a family's hardships during the early days of China's Cultural Revolution.
Here, have a proverb
One-dimensional characters, overly familiar plot, and single-strand narrative conspire to make this read like YA lit for very young YAs or reluctant readers. Adult readers would be better served reading Nien Cheng's outstanding memoir Life and Death in Shanghai.
I'll be reading Chen's debut Soy Sauce for Beginners before this (it's on the tbr soon pile!), but I really enjoyed this article about the author's concern on whether she had the right to write the story she was planning for this, her sophomore novel: Am I Chinese Enough to Tell This Story? - https://lithub.com/am-i-chinese-enoug...
4 years later, July 2022, and I have finally read the book...
A really good read and preferred ito her debut from what I remember. Seeing what I wrote above reminds how many good books have been stranded on my wishlist for far too long.
Nu stilul, nu calitatea scriiturii fac ca acest volum să stăruiască în mintea cititorului, ci povestea tulburătoare a separării unei familii în China comunistă. Suntem în 1957 și o simplă greșeală, involuntară - spargerea cu un ciocan a unui portret al Președintelui - duce la un tăvălug al întâmplărilor care desparte, poate pentru totdeauna, o familie între zona comunistă și Hong Kong-ul capitalist. Suferință, deznădejde, dor, durerea de a-i pierde pe cei dragi, dezamăgire, control permanent al statului, într-un roman-mărturie meritoriu despre ”beneficiile” totalitarismului.
Interesting setting and themes, and I loved reading about some of the characters, but loses itself a little bit towards the end. Good story, but nothing mind blowing.
The abrupt and implausible ending was messy, and it didn't match the rest of the book in its attempt to explain the happenings and move the story.
The writing is solid in terms of the mechanics of English, but it's plain and simplistic. The premise of the story is interesting but the storytelling is not compelling. I found the tone and affect to be staid or inauthentic. The characters took on a cartoonish or cardboard quality.
This is the second book of the author's that I've read. I don't think I'll pick up a third.
It’s a harrowing story, set in China in 1957: a young boy reports his grandmother to the authorities for taking a hammer to a portrait of Chairman Mao. Unfortunately, the extremely weak characterization meant that, a fifth of the way in, I didn’t care about anyone or anything that was happening. I shall not be continuing. Great cover, though.
هل تساءلت يوماً ما شعور أن يكون المرء ضروريًا بحق ، أن تكون ضروريًا يعني أن تُثمن أكثر من كل شئ ..... فهل كانت سان سان الطفلة ذات التسع أعوام ضرورية بالنسبة إلي عائلتها ؟ في رحلة غريبة و قاسية أُختبرت مشاعر أمومتي و تساءلت هل استطيع التخلي عن أحد أبنائى بكامل إرادتي و اختياري مهما كانت الظروف التي تدفعني لذلك؟ بَدأتُ رحلتي في مكان جديد من العالم .... الصين عام ١٩٥٧ وقت ثورة الشيوعية و سيطرتها علي أجزاء من الصين و منها جزيرة درَم ويف ، هنا تسكن عائلة اونغ أو ما تبقي منها ، العائلة ذات الأصول الرأسمالية و التي تدهورت أحوالها أثر استيلاء الحزب الشيوعي علي السلطة.
مازالت هنا الجدة بي كيم بما تحمله من ذكريات الماضي القريب و كيف تبدلت الأحوال ، سوك كون زوجة الابن تشاي الذي يعيش بهونج كونج و لم يري أسرته منذ أكثر من ٦ أعوام ، الأبناء ليام و سان سان. ليام الصبي المراهق يتمني أن يصبح عضوًا بالحزب الشيوعي و بسبب حلمه يتسبب في أزمة كبيرة للأسرة التي تخطط للهروب من الجزيرة و اللحاق بالأب. تُوضع الأسرة في اختبار صعب و عليهم الاختيار ثلاثة فقط سيرحلون من الجزيرة علي وعد بأن يلحق بهم الرابع بعد أسبوع ، لتختار الأم و يالا المفاجأة ترك أصغر أفراد العائلة .... الطفلة سان سان . مخاطرة كبيرة بل كبيرة جداً !!!، فكم شهدت رحلة الأسرة الكثير من الخطر حتي الوصول لهونج كونج فما بال سان سان الطفلة الوحيدة ، هذا في حال صدر تصريح الخروج لها و سلكت نفس الطريق الشرعي للخروج مثل أسرتها فكيف الحال إذا لم يصدر التصريح ؟!!! ، هل ستبقي سان سان وحيدة بالجزيرة أم ستحدث المعجزة و تجتمع بعائلتها؟
حملت الرحلة الكثير من المشاعر الإنسانية و عشت بكل جوارحي مع سان سان و ما مرت به من قلق و خوف ضحكت معها و بكيت عليها ، و رغم مشاعر التعاطف التي انتابتني بين الحين و الآخر تجاه الأم إلا أن احساس الوجع لما مرت به الابنة طغي علي مشاعري و لم استطع أن اغفر لها تخليها عن ابنتها ، أيضًا أظهرت الرواية الوجه القبيح للشيوعية كنظام و للسياسة عامًة و كيف تُساق الشعوب لمصائر مظلمة دون إرادة سوى إرادة الحاكم و حزبه.
خمس نجوم مستحقة لرحلة إنسانية فريدة عاشتها بكل تفاصيلها و كنت أتمني ان تطول لأري كيف ستكون سان سان الشابة و الأم ... هل سيندمل بداخلها جرح التخلي عنها ؟
This is the first book I've read by Kristin Chen, thanks to Goodreads. What an emotional rollercoaster! Thought-provoking and tense, this story was reminiscent of Kay Bratt's The Palest Ink. I highly recommend both to those that enjoy historical fiction and Asian literature. I'll admit to feeling mildly depressed whilst reading, but it's that state of mind when one is immersed in a taut drama. This isn't a thriller. It's not a mystery series. However, it feels dark and foreboding. What happens when a nine year old girl is separated from family — and that family is divided by Mao's communist revolution? It's a time when relations turned on one another and neighbors were anything but neighborly. Makes me appreciate freedom, choices, and my beautiful family.
* I received an ARC in a Goodreads giveaway. Opinions are my own.
This gripping story epitomizes family, culture, radicalism, and living with the consequences of our choices. I have not read many books about Communism and I became emotionally attached to the characters as the borders began to close and they had to leave San San behind. The family’s struggles were heart wrenching. I read Bury What We Cannot Take fervently, searching for consolation. We highly recommend this book for anyone looking for a cultural, political, all-around good read.
I had the opportunity to meet the author, Kirstin Chen, in a Publishing course I took at Northeastern University this past Spring. My professor went to graduate school with Chen and she was on her Bury What We Cannot Take book tour in Boston, so she stopped by our class. The major topics that she discussed about Bury What We Cannot Take were cultural representation, her inspiration, the cover art, and her blurbs.
If you have an interest in Chen’s struggle with cultural representation or her inspiration for Bury What We Cannot Take, please view the article she wrote about both, “Am I Chinese Enough to Tell This Story?" (https://lithub.com/am-i-chinese-enoug...)
In regards to the amazing cover of this book, Chen said she knew exactly what she wanted for this book because she had been unhappy with her previous cover for Soy Sauce For Beginners. Chen said she was specifically against having a lot of red on the cover of Bury What We Cannot Take.
I asked her about the blurbs for Bury What We Cannot Take, specifically the following because I am a huge fan of Celeste Ng, loved Little Fires Everywhere, and am looking forward to reading Everything I Never Told you:
“Bury What We Cannot Take explores what it takes to survive in a world gone mad—and what is lost when we do. Kirstin Chen has written both an engrossing historical drama and a nuanced exploration of how far the bonds of familial love can stretch.” — Celeste Ng, New York Times bestselling author of Everything I Never Told You and Little Fires Everywhere
I appreciate the author’s intention in writing a story that’s set in Mao’s China because it shed some light in a part of history that I’m not familiar with. The stakes were high and I didn’t wanted the main character to be in any form of danger. However, the story and characters kinda fell a little flat for me and things kinda get a little repetitive as well. The ending of the story was too convenient for my liking. And I wish it shows its readers more about their lifestyle and culture, both in Hong Kong and China back in those days.
"ماذا لو كانت غلطةٌ ما أثقل من ان يعاش معها؟ ماذا لو حفر الشعور بالذنب اللحم وصار يشتدّ ويشتدّ ملتهمًا النسيج والدُّهن والجلد، حتى يأتي يوم تنظر فيه إلى نفسك وتراها كلَّها خَرِبةً لم يبقى منها شيء؟ "
Set in Maoist China, a young boy, Ah Liam, reports that his grandmother took a hammer to Chairman Mao's portrait because he believes that is the right thing to do. This causes Ah Liam's family to flee to Hong Kong, where his father has been living, but the government will not provide enough visas which results in one of the children being left behind.
A harrowing tale about living with the consequences of our choices.
I absolutely devoured the first 60 percent of this tale set in 1957 communist China. A family seeking to flee an islet bordering China to Hong Kong after an unfortunate incident by one of the family members. Only three travel visas are allowed to insure that the family returns back to China.
The book was really captivating and the writing rather strong with mentions of communism, Chairman Mao, radicalism etc.... But, then this quite interesting, serious story morphed into a sort of mundane, lite, easy reading selection. There’s nothing wrong with lite, easy reading if that’s what you sign up for and it doesn’t segue into something completely different 60% of the way in. The first half and second half were two divergent visions, or appeared to be. Like the author didn’t quite know what she wanted the book to do.
Goodness, and I started out praising this book to everyone who would listen. Guess for now on I’ll wait til I complete the book.
I think the book was good and played out some interesting scenarios - if and how and when to get your family out of your home country; family dynamics; sibling gender differences.
I totally rounded up the stars because it was refreshing to read a story that was not dependent upon frequent violence against women; or a book that alternates between different time periods; or writing that overly simplifies parenting as a perfect, loving, easy thing; or characters that never change or grow. I also appreciate that this not an unreliable narrator story. I am thrilled that there were not any descriptions of the characters’ boobs or butts.
This novel's title, cover and prose are a class act. It's a gripping, heartfelt story set against the backdrop of Maoist China. The horrors of that communist regime are efficiently and effectively rendered and left me hurting at our capacity for cruelty and inhumanity. The wealth of details are vivid and visceral and brought both place and people alive. I wanted more in terms of character motivation and the novel's close, but am so glad to have read this fine work.
I look forward to reading more works by this author. Captivating story, well-written and interesting characters, but it did feel a bit too short and surface level. I feel like most of the time long books could be much shorter, but in this case I feel like this book should have been longer. Nonetheless I enjoyed the family dynamics, character arcs, and story of censorship and repression in Maoist China.