I was drawn in by the portrait of the life of Chinese woman in the 19th Century and the tale of the friendship of Lily and Snowflower. Back then, a daughter was seen as a "useless branch." As the narrator Lily puts it:
Even if our natal families love us, we are a burden to them. We marry into new families ... submit to the demands of our mothers-in-law. If we are lucky, we have sons and secure our positions.
Lily is born into a poor peasant family in 1823. She has an opportunity to rise in standing because her high-arched feet have the potential, with footbinding, to be the ideal size (three inches!) and shape, giving her value as a bride in an arranged marriage. (However, from what I've read, contrary to the book's plot, footbinding was done only by the rich, and didn't allow you to cross class barriers.)
To help teach her refinement, at seven and a half she contracts with Snowflower, born into a mandarin family, to become laotongs, a sworn lifelong friendship between girls. Often apart, and with footbinding limiting mobility, their friendship is sustained through messages in nu shu, a secret language between women used in Southern Human Province. A note before the text tells us nu shu is "the only language in the world to have been created by women exclusively for their own use."
See writes in a readable spare style and imbues her milieu with a wealth of cultural details. I'm not about to forget her portrayal of footbinding. One out of ten young girls who underwent the brutal process died. A process that allowed them only to take mincing, hobbled steps for the rest of their lives. There was also more than one surprising twist in this tale of two women's friendship and regrets, but I didn't feel as moved as I felt I should have been by the events of the novel. It's written as the memoir of a 80-year-old woman looking back, and at times I felt as if the voice was too journalistic, too detached and "tell, not show," and Lily never quite came alive to me as a character.
