Snow Flower And The Secret Fan (2006) - Plot & Excerpts
There's definitely something to be said for reading a book all the way through in one sitting (I read this for Dewey's 24-hour Readathon). You get more absorbed, your mind more focused, like a movie-watching experience (especially one in the cinema): a highly cohesive, tight story-telling experience with no channel-surfing. Like when you're a kid, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of your teacher as they read aloud from a picture book, pointing out the details in the illustration while you gaze, mouth open, riveted.Or like watching a train crash. It's that same "can't look away" feeling. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is definitely not a train wreck, in terms of writing or accomplishment, but it did have an element of threat and suspense that is symbolic of one.Taking place in rural 19th century China (by our calendar, that is), Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is about Lily, now a remarkably old lady in her eighties, writing her private memoir from her days as a girl growing up poor and her friendship with Snow Flower. Taught the secret women's written language of nu shu by her aunt, when she is six the matchmaker arranges for her to have a laotong - like an official best friend - and agrees that with her feet, her mother should not bind them until she is seven, but that she will have the smallest "golden lilies" and will be able to get a rich and important husband in the nearby village of Tongkou - a very high aspiration indeed.It is her friendship with Snow Flower, the daughter of a wealthy and important family in Tongkou, that is the driving force of this story, the focal point, the ugly truth that Lily now wants to tell us. We are silent witnesses to an old lady unburdening herself. Rich in cultural detail, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is powerful not just in its story - a story about women in a land where the women wholeheartedly believe they are worth nothing - but in its historical accounting. I remember when I was small, going with my mother to the museum with its Chinese exhibit, and seeing these tiny shoes, brightly embroidered little slippers that looked like they might just fit a baby. No, my mother told me, these shoes were worn by women. She told me about their tiny feet, and how they bound them. It was something my child's mind couldn't really grasp but was still fascinated by. Years later, while in a doctor's waiting room, I read an article on the last living women - rural women, from a small village somewhere in China - who had had their feet bound (in, I want to say Cosmo). The account of the procedure was somewhat different from what is described in Snow Flower and the Secret Fan - more horrific, if that's possible. Like with female genital mutilation (FGM, or female circumcision), it's yet another torture inflicted on women in the name of either fashion or purity or whatever nonsense the men can concoct. Because, of course, on these tiny feet, the women could barely walk (and with FGM, they can't take any pleasure in sex). What an effective way to control them! And even better, like with FGM, they do it to themselves - willingly!! What idiots we women can be! (Let's not forget the corset, or even the things we do to ourselves today.) I loved reading about footbinding in this book. I was riveted. It wasn't just the process, which was educational in its detail, but also the mentality behind it. Some of these girls died from this. But because girls are considered worthless (sons are the greatest treasure and the only reason to have women around), the mothers don't hesitate to do what is necessary in order to marry them off - and get them off their hands. They're just mouths to feed otherwise.Lily is a product of her time, her culture: she doesn't judge this, not even when her sister dies from blood poisoning. She is proud of her Golden Lilies (the men had sexual fetishes for them); it's because of her tiny feet that she married so high and became Lady Lu. And anyway, it's not the point of the story.The novel celebrates women, and as we bear witness to Lily, the book itself gives witness to all the Chinese women who lived this life. It's not a pretty life. But amongst it there is beauty. The secret language of the women, nu shu, is remarkable: a phonetic alphabet created by women, used only by women, that men couldn't read - and, to be honest, had no interest in reading. It may be the only language like it, but the Japanese had something similar. In Japan, there are several alphabets in use: kanji, the adopted Chinese characters; hiragana and katakana, two Japanese alphabets; and romaji, our Roman/Latin alphabet. Hiragana and Katakana are lovely, simple characters, easy to read and I wish they would dump the kanji and just use these! But I digress. Hiragana was used by women because the men considered it beneath them - Chinese kanji was the alphabet of scholars and leaders. (Katakana is a shorthand version of kanji, like writing quickly, that is now used for foreign words.) I learnt this interesting tidbit from some of my students when I lived in Japan. Because the men considered it an inferior alphabet, they couldn't read it, thus the women had their own secret language. Just not so secret!But I haven't mentioned Snow Flower yet. The characterisation in this novel is excellent, and I especially liked the development of Snow Flower. She isn't an easy character to like (neither is Lily at times - mostly because the mentality of these women is so different from the western one), but she is perfectly understandable and this makes her sympathetic. Even more so as the novel goes on and the lives of these laotong diverge so greatly - Lily goes from poor to rich while Snow Flower goes from rich to poor and abused. There is tragedy in this story, but it's balanced by the strength, resilience and fortitude displayed by these women. What's interesting, with Lily, is what she doesn't tell us. There're many details and people she skims over. She doesn't talk about her husband - he's there, he talks, but it's like a business arrangement or a room in a house: it's there, you accept it, but you don't love it or hate it. It's just part of your life. Like a mole on your face. There's the wife of Elder Brother, whom we never see even when she must be in the room, and Lily's children - the sole purpose of her existence, apparently - she doesn't reflect much upon. I guess, from the premise of her writing from an old age and writing the story she wants to tell, some characters just aren't important at all, and others just aren't that necessary. She can be almost heartless at times, and very generous and loving at others. Really, she's a more complicated character than Snow Flower is.Calling a novel "powerful" is a terribly boring cliché but it is a true one. This novel is powerful. I felt like I lived it. Even if I hadn't been taking part in a readathon, I doubt I would have been able to put it down easily.
My grandmother used to say that my big feet meant I had a “good foundation.” I’d stare longingly at her size-six feet when she said this and curse my genetic inheritance from elsewhere in the family tree. Then I had an ex-boyfriend make the infuriating statement that rich women have small feet. I pointed out that his celebrity crush, Paris Hilton (yeah, another reason I dumped him) has huge size-eleven feet. My teenage-self took a lot of comfort in the fact that foot size is pre-ordained and unchangeable. Clown-sized feet can strike the smart, the rich, the beautiful. And there isn’t a damned thing they or I could do about it.Then I read this book and learn it is possible to change your foot size. It’s called foot binding. And you know what? I’ll pass. I enjoy being able to wiggle my toes and jump around. So, thank you, Lisa See! For once in my life, I am content with my big feet. And I owe it all to your graphic descriptions of this ancient Chinese method. Blood, putrefaction, pain, breaking bones, risk of death! I cannot believe those women were subjected to such brutal mutilation for the sake of beauty. Then they were still expected to clean the house perched on those tiny, unstable feet.The foot binding portion of the book was the highlight for me. The inspiration for the book was nu shu, a written language developed by Chinese women and kept secret from men for hundreds of years. Yawn. I didn’t find that part of the story very compelling or even believable. Didn’t men wonder why the ladies kept ink and brushes in their room? Beyond the foot biding event and nu shu device, this was really a story about a female friendship that was deep and even erotic at times. Putting aside any problems with the plot, their emotions toward each other were complex and meaningful. There was hope and joy, but mostly there was pain. During an event with Lisa last night, she spoke of how depressing writing can be. She doesn’t always wake up raring to write. Instead she may dread knowing she has to go to a dark, internal place to write about a character’s death or betrayal. Even worse, she may have to stay in that mindset for days or weeks until that section is completely written. I spend so much time glamorizing a writer’s lifestyle that I had not fully considered how emotionally draining it could be. I suspected the career engenders self-doubt. “Will people like what I’ve written?” Yet, I had never thought about the struggle Lisa described to create and inhabit the internal emotional environment necessary to produce the actual words.I commend Lisa for giving us a realistic look at the treatment of and expectations for women in that day and age. Women were isolated and undervalued. Their worth was determined solely by whether they could produce sons. But honestly, my main complaint about the book is how depressing it was. I kept waiting for some great act of heroism. Yet the women stuck to their traditional roles. The main character not only repeated the indoctrination, she believed it! “My role in life is to obey, obey, obey.” Sure, they rebelled in small ways, but always within the confines of their societal roles. I kept routing for one character to leave an abusive husband or, at very least, stand up to her oppressive mother-in-law. Normally I criticize authors for deviating from historical facts in order to cater to a modern readership. This time, I think Lisa stayed so true to the setting that she turned me off. (And her heavy-handed foreshadowing didn’t help.) Life was hard for women back then. I get it. But does that make for an enjoyable read? Not really. And I think that was my problem. I had the wrong expectations as I entered this book. It wasn't a sprawling historical epic, filled with exciting action, heart-fluttering romance, and distant voyages like Shogun (one of the few other historical fictions I have read that are set in Asia). It was a largely quiet book about quiet life. Lisa herself admitted she writes sad books. And when she started this book, no one thought it would be successful. China? Women? Gloom? No one will read that! Well, she proved them wrong. Lots of people read it. Heck, I read it. Even more people will probably see the movie.And it’s worth reading. It made me appreciate the freedom women enjoy today, as well as the potential depth of female friendship. Not to mention, I’m looking down at my feet right now and thinking, “hell yeah, that’s one beautiful, ergonomic piece of evolution – and just the right size."
What do You think about Snow Flower And The Secret Fan (2006)?
When a girl, obey your father; when a wife, obey your husband; when a widow, obey your son.At the age of seven, Lily has already found her laotong, a person with whom her friendship will last a lifetime. Though they are both born in the year of the horse, at first glance Snow Flower transcends anything and anyone Lily has ever known. The two girls write to each other in nu shu, the secret language of Chinese women, and their bond blossoms - together, they endure the painful practice of foot binding, the trials and tribulations of arranged marriages, and the joys and sorrows of motherhood. At the age of 80, Lily recounts their shared lives, including the tragic incident that may have tore them apart.Many people praise two elements within Snow Flower and the Secret Fan: foot binding and nu shu. Foot binding disturbs me no matter how many times I read about it. Though it does reveal a lot about women within Chinese society and what they suffered through for status, I still had to take deep breaths and numb my mind with music when I read the scene where Lily and her sisters had their feet bound. Nu shu also adds a cultural component to the context of the story, and from the author's note in the back of the book I could tell Lisa See researched it extensively.Because the narrative of the book entails Lily looking back on her entire life, the writing comes across as detached and clinical at times. While Lisa See still incorporates wonderful imagery whenever Lily manages to escape the women's chamber, her passive perspective provides us with an authentic view of women within China's social hierarchy. Yes, it really does suck to read about the abuses women suffered at the hands of those they held closest to them. But through Lily's experience we gain a greater fortitude against such behavior - and we learn that friendship can help us fight it.Snow Flower and the Secret Fan draws almost all of its strength from Lily and Snow Flower's friendship. If I were to discuss it in a book club setting, foot binding, nu shu, and the role of women in Chinese society would all serve as appetizers. The laotong relationship between Snow Flower and Lily would act as my meal. It encompasses endless emotions and ideas: love, shared sadness, bittersweet humor, longing, and my favorite, redemption. Lily's character in relation to Snow Flower and the actions they take because of each other amaze me. Within a minute I could relate their bond to affirmative action, the psychological rules of attraction, my own personal friendships, and much more.Highly recommended for those in search of a quiet, poignant story. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is by no means a thriller, but it is profoundly touching, to say the very least.*review cross-posted on my blog, the quiet voice.
—Thomas
Extraordinary story of two young girls who become women in the Hunan province in China during the era of "foot-binding". There are books one reads that truly enrich...this is one of them. Lucy See creates a quilt of memorable characters who survive the horrific torture of footbinding by their mothers, in order to have feet that are sexually desirous to men resulting in an advantageous marriage. At some point in Chinese history possessing a 3 inch foot that was broken and scarred to resemble a "golden lily" became a revered symbol of wealth and status and was highly erotic to men. Not to offend, but the folding over of the foot ball to the heel created an orifice that was used sexually by men. This practice continued for over a thousand years. The horror of it is sickening and those passages are difficult to read and imagine. See does not elaborate, but just presents the facts without opinion. If they survived the process, women whose feet were bound, could not run, could barely walk, rather they swayed on 3 inch feet and lived in special rooms in the family house. They developed their own language and communicated with each other "illegally" through the exchange of fans, using an alphabet men could not read. It is through these writings recently rediscovered, that this fictional story shines. This is a wonderful book, but disturbing and haunting.
—Suzanne
Wow. I just finished this book and wanted to come write about it immediately so I don't forget how it made me feel. First off, the language is beautiful and so fitting for the context. The two girls--Snow Flower and Lily--have a friendship that is beautiful and is fun to pick out little pieces from my own childhood/current friendships that I recognize and adore. My next thoughts are not necessarily critiques of the book, but of the way the Chinese thought: I had a real problem with hearing over and over how worthless a woman is if she cannot produce a son. If that were still the case, I would be as worthless as they come. It bothered me that daughters were considered better off if they died than to live. And I thought Lily perpetuated that as unfeeling as the patriarchs who instilled that thought process to begin with. And don't get me started on footbinding. I know this is a cultural thing that I cannot begin to comprehend (such as people who still practice polygamy, I realize they see it happening in their families and think that is just the way life is, but still, how could they not think this through?) I mean, one of of ten girls died from footbinding. And not only does it make the foot look grotesque (which they thought was beautiful) but they were practically crippled for the rest of their lives. They had to be carried most distances after the age of six. It's simply ridiculous. But reading this book made me want to learn to embroider. I know it sounds ridiculous but I was actually looking for embroidery classes in the area where I could learn how to do it. And I want to do it with my daughter. The visual of these women embroidering together. It's just beautiful. There were so many beautiful quotes that I thought I'd list my favorites:This thought is a real comfort to me: "Everyone knows that part of the spirit descends to the afterworld, while part of it remains with the family, but we have a special belief about the spirit of a young woman who has died before her marriage that goes contrary to this. She comes back to prey upon other unmarried girls--not to scare them but to take them to the afterworld with her so she might have company." This is particarly interesting to me because after my daughter died, Biance would tell me about going to heaven with Miranda every night while she dreamed. Another quote I liked about teachers:"The classics tell us that, in relationships, the one between teacher and student comes second only to the one between parent and child."The last one is a bit lengthy, but I like it nonetheless:"If it is perfectly acceptable for a widow to disfigure herself or commit suicide to save face for her husband's family, why should a mother not be moved to extreme action by the loss of a child or children? We are their caretakers. We love them. We nurse them when they are sick. . . But no woman should live longer than her children. It is against the law of nature. If she does, why wouldn't she wish to leap from a cliff, hang from a branch, or swallow lye?"Overall, this was a sad, beautiful book.
—Jeana
