Snow Flower and the Secret Fan – Lisa See
In nineteenth-century China, when wives and daughters were foot-bound and lived in almost total seclusion, the women in one remote Hunan county developed their own secret code for communication: nu shu (“women’s writing”). Some girls were paired with laotongs, “old sames,” in emotional matches that lasted throughout their lives. They painted letters on fans, embroidered messages on handkerchiefs, and composed stories, thereby reaching out of their isolation to share their hopes, dreams, and accomplishments. With the arrival of a silk fan on which Snow Flower has composed for Lily a poem of introduction in nu shu, their friendship is sealed and they become “old sames” at the tender age of seven. As the years pass, through famine and rebellion, they reflect upon their arranged marriages, loneliness, and the joys and tragedies of motherhood. The two find solace, developing a bond that keeps their spirits alive. But when a misunderstanding arises, their lifelong friendship suddenly threatens to tear apart.
This book was both fascinating and appalling at the same time. While I’ve thought of foot binding before, I never happened to think of the lives of the women during and afterwards, only the pain that they must endure. Little did I know that the process lasted between 2 and 3 years and started between 5 and 7 years of age.
Not exclusively about the foot binding and its process, the story about Lily and Snow Fan is memorizing. With a friendship that is forged to withstand absolutely everything you follow Lily from her childhood, striving for love and attention from her mother, to the meeting of her Old Same, betrothals and the learning of a woman’s role, hierarchy and life in the upstairs room of the Woman’s chamber.
I couldn’t stop reading this book. Despite being such a different culture and time you feel the connection between all the girls, the mothers deep love of their daughters and loss when the tragedies occur.
Excerpt from the book:
My mother had yet to acknowledge that I was in the room. This is how it had been for as long as I could remember, but on that day I perceived and felt her disregard. Melancholy sank into me, whisking away the joy I had just felt with Aunt and Uncle, stunning me with its power. Then, just as quickly, the feeling disappeared, because Elder Brother, who was six years older than I was, called me to help him with his morning chores. Having been born in the year of the horse, it is in my nature to love the outdoors, but even more important I got to have Elder Brother completely to myself. I knew I was lucky and that my sisters would hold this against me, but I didn't care. When he talked to me or smiled at me I didn't feel invisible.
We ran outside. Elder Bother hauled water up from the well and filled buckets for us to carry. We took them back to the house, then set out again to gather firewood. We made a pile, then Elder Brother loaded my arms with the smaller sticks. He scooped up the rest and we headed home. When we got there, I handed the sticks to Mama, hoping for her praise. It's not so easy for a little girl to lug a bucket of water or carry firewood after all. But Mama didn't say anything.
Even now, after all these years, it is difficult for me to think about Mama and what I realized on that day. So clearly I saw that I was inconsequential to her. I was a third child, a second worthless girl, too little to waste time on until it looked like I would survive my milk years. She looked at me the way all mothers look at her daughters—as a temporary visitor who was another mouth to feed and a body to dress until I went to my husband's home. I was five, old enough to know I didn't deserve her attention, but suddenly I craved it. I longed for her to look at me and talk to me the way she did with Elder Brother. But even in that moment of my first truly deep desire, I was smart enough to know that Mama wouldn't want me to interrupt her during this busy time when so often she had scolded me for talking too loudly or had swatted at the air around me because I got in her way. Instead, I vowed to be like Elder Sister and help as quietly and carefully as I could
For more information visit these sites:
http://www.silcom.com/~bevjack/slippers2.html
http://www.lisasee.com/images/footbinding/footbinding.htm
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