Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, a book by Lisa See at Dust Jacket Review

A language kept a secret for a thousand years forms the backdrop for an unforgettable novel of two Chinese women whose friendship and love sustains them through their lives.

This absorbing novel â€“ with a storyline unlike anything Lisa See has written before â€“ takes place in 19th century China when girls had their feet bound, then spent the rest of their lives in seclusion with only a single window from which to see. Illiterate and isolated, they were not expected to think, be creative, or have emotions. But in one remote county, women developed their own secret code, nu shu â€“ "women's writing" â€“ the only gender-based written language to have been found in the world. Some girls were paired as "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 windows to share their hopes, dreams, and accomplishments.

An old woman tells of her relationship with her "old-same," their arranged marriages, and the joys and tragedies of motherhoodâ€”until a terrible misunderstanding written on their secret fan threatens to tear them apart. With the detail and emotional resonance of Memoirs of a Geisha , Snow Flower and the Secret Fan delves into one of the most mysterious and treasured relationships of all timeâ€”female friendship.

Caldog's Review

review by Caldog

longmarried grandmom of two

overall book rating: 90%

This summer-read recommendation of my bookclub was a dip in the lake on a 90-degree day. The novel focuses on an 80-year-old widow writing of her life, a perspective that makes perfect sense once we readers become attuned to her early-20th century Chinese customs and familial responsibilities. We laugh at competing "matchmakers." We learn how young females never leave their family's compounds until they journey in a flowered carriage to their betrothed for the wedding night. We're astonished by the roles of newly-married women in their husband's households, and marvel at how they maintain any hint of self, not to mention independence, within the bindings of tradition. And we grieve for those whose very welfare depends solely on giving birth to healthy sons.

See's novel reverberates around the ancient Chinese custom of "laotongs [Old Sames]," a ritualistic lifelong bond of friendship/sisterhood between two young women. From the age of seven, Lily and Snow Flower maintain this friendship by using "nu shu [women's writings]," which were typically overlooked by the men as too inconsequential to matter. But matter it does -- immensely.

At issue, too, is the culture of footbinding. See helps us understand why anyone would choose to inflict or endure such pain, and why men found it so alluring. (If we presume such thinking could no longer exist in today's world, watch the 4+ inch heels flying off store shelves or talk to a podiatrist about hammertoes. But I digress...)

See manages to swim 1900's Chinese culture into the very personal story of Lily's humble beginnings, her mother's intent to give her a better life, and of a friendship that does not run smoothly, but that redeems.

Ratings (100 pt scale)

Overall Rating - 90

review rating:

-- not rated --

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response from sbarranca
I read this a couple of years ago and enjoyed it. I found the "secret women's writing" of particular importance. That somehow during all of this oppression and silencing, these women still found a voice - a written one.

Excerpts

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan

, by Lisa See

We were members of the Yi family line, one of the original Yao clans and the most common in the district. My father and uncle leased seven mou of land from a rich landowner who lived in the far west of the province. They cultivated that land with rice, cotton, taro, and kitchen crops. My family home was typical in the sense that it had two stories and faced south. A room upstairs was designated for women's gathering and for unmarried girls to sleep. Rooms for each family unit and a special room for our animals flanked the downstairs main room, where baskets filled with eggs or oranges and strings of drying chilies hung from the central beam to keep them safe from mice, chickens, or a roaming pig. We had a table and stools against one wall. A hearth where Mama and Aunt did the cooking occupied a corner on the opposite wall. We did not have windows in our main room, so we kept open the door to the alley outside our house for light and air in the warm months. The rest of our rooms were small, our floor was hard-packed earth, and, as I said, our animals lived with us.

I've never thought much about whether I was happy or if I had fun as a child. I was a so-so girl who lived with a so-so family in a so-so village. I didn't know that there might be another way to live, and I didn't worry about it either. But I remember the day I began to notice and think about what was around me. I had just turned five and felt as though I had crossed a big threshold. I woke up before dawn with something like a tickle in my brain. That bit of irritation made me alert to everything I saw and experienced that day.

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