My review from Amazon (back in the days before I discovered goodreads!) -- I read this several years ago, but felt compelled to start a literary argument with my sister when I heard she actually liked this book. ;)

"The Secret Life of Bees" meets "Women of the Silk"

I'm getting a little tired of the "female friendship" genre that seems to pervade contemporary literature these days. While there are some better-written examples of this category, many of them seem to be written with the agenda of extolling the virtues and possibilities of close female friendship, perhaps as an alternative to traditional romance novels. Often, I feel that these authors are so anxious to idealize the close bond between two women that they spend less time actually allowing this bond to develop in a convincing way. Their characters remain underdeveloped as well, leaving the reader with an overdone, unconvincing, and ultimately shallow story line.

This book is no exception. The writing is not bad, and the historical/cultural context lends some interest to what would otherwise be a truly boring novel. However, the characters were hollow and their friendship, and subsequent estrangement, left me cold. I was so unenamored that I found myself wondering at the authenticity of the historical setting -- how accepted were these ritualized female friendships, and did they really take precedence over the marital bond at times (e.g., a wife sharing a bed with her visiting sworn sister as opposed to her husband)? I don't claim to be an expert on this period of Chinese history, but it seemed inconsistent with the little I know of the inferior status of women at this time and place. Given the author's general agenda, I couldn't help but wonder how many of the contextual details she colored in order to serve her purpose. Perhaps this may be excused by poetic license, but if it had been a better book, I would probably not be engaging in this cynical line of thought. The really good historical novels I've read were so convincing that it did not occur to me to question their authenticity.

In the title of my review I mentioned two similar novels which, if crossed, would result in this story. Both of those novels fall into the category of overdone, agenda-driven female fiction. Perhaps this comes from an effort to appeal to the middle-aged female audience, who probably represents a large percentage of the contemporary fiction market.

I read this when it first came out. As far as I am concerned, it is Lisa See's best book. The characters are so clear cut, no ambiguity - secrets and hiding, yes - but we know whether we like these characters or not. See did a lot of research about foot binding and the history of the country, especially local wars and taking lands of other communities. The story is excellent and the history is so vivid - the life partners, the social hierarchy of the time. What I found so interesting the second time around was the pain that Lily feels for her misreading and her mean actions against Snow Flower. When I first read it, I just wanted the story. This time I read it for the beauty of the writing, for the accurate information about the times and the hope to better understand Lily's sadness, wasting away in old age. Not even able to enjoy her wealth, her status, her family.
This is a wonderful book. If you have not read it, get with it. Book groups loved it 15 years ago - a lot of solid discussion.

n  n
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I'm doing a project where I reread some of the books I enjoyed in my teens and adolescence. SNOWFLOWER AND THE SECRET FAN is one of those. When I read MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA as a teen, I enjoyed it so much that I immediately started seeking out similar books and some of the authors that were recommended to me by... someone-- a librarian? a teacher? my mom? I can't remember-- were Anchee Min and Lisa See.



SNOWFLOWER AND THE SECRET FAN is an incredibly powerful story about the relationships between young women and how fraught with tension and conflict they can be, in addition to feelings of undying devotion and betrayal. The book is set in the 1800s when foot-binding still happened in China, and the descriptions of these events were so hideously visceral that I remembered them ten years later. Even with so much time to buffer my memories, I was still shocked and horrified anew.



Snowflower and Lily, the heroine, become laotong, which sort of seems to be similar to the "bosom friend" espoused by Anne in Anne of Green Gables, except it's arranged by a matchmaker. Lily and Snowflower undergo foot-binding together and learn nu shu, which is a language spoken and written exclusively by women, which I found fascinating. The intimacy between the two girls borders on the erotic at times and it's clear that the love they feel for each other supersedes anything they feel for their husbands or families, which is why, when the inevitable betrayal happens, it feels so cutting.



This is not a happy book, but it is a story about relationships and redemption. I think I actually enjoyed it a little more than MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA in hindsight because that book was basically a Western Cinderella story done up in Japanese costumes (not surprising, considering who wrote it), but this book was entirely female-focused and didn't really have much romance in it at all. Lily's husband doesn't really feature except when relevant to the plot and we don't learn his name (Dulang) until the end. A lot of books like these tend to be very love story-driven, so the fact that Lisa See chose to make it focused on female friendships and female agency made it feel very powerful to me.



Bear in mind that if you choose to read this, it deals with a lot of unpleasant subject matter-- foot-binding, child abuse (or what would be considered child abuse in Western, modern culture), wife beating/spousal abuse, miscarriage, death of a child, graphic medical gore, etc.



I enjoyed this book enough that I just bought PEONY IN LOVE.



3.5 to 4 stars

«Ninguna planta puede crecer sin sol, y eso es lo único que el campesino no puede controlar. Acabé por creer que Flor de Nieve desempeñaba ese papel. Para mí, el son adoptaba la forma de sus respuestas a mis cartas». 

Lisa See narra con una sensibilidad que casi se puede palpar. En este libro recorremos la vida de las mujeres chinas del siglo XIX. Sus tradiciones, costumbres y hechos históricos a los que se van enfrentando. 

Lisa nos habla de la familia, del amor profundo, de las creencias, de la lucha individual, del valor,los errores y sus consecuencias. Pero, sobre todo, habla sobre la mujer, del trato que se le daba y lo mucho que tenían que luchar para sobrevivir en un mundo donde las consideraban poco más o menos que un estorbo. 

También nos habla del nu shu, el lenguaje secreto que las mujeres crearon para comunicarse libremente. Los mensajes que se enviaban escritos o bordados en abanicos, telas y otros objetos.

Es así como se comunican las protagonistas de esta historia: Lirio Blanco y Flor de Nieve. Dos mujeres que se convierten en laotong desde su niñez, almas gemelas unidas para toda la vida. Un vínculo más fuerte incluso que el del matrimonio. 

El trabajo de documentación es magnífico, pero lo realmente destacable es cómo la autora une historia y política de la época con las costumbres de la vida de las mujeres y lo hace como un canto a la vida, como un grito de lucha por la libertad y el reconocimiento. 

Leed a Lisa See. Cualquier momento es ideal para descubrir la magia que encierran sus palabras

Lisa See never disappoints me, and I loved my experience reading "Snow Flower and the Secret Fan". She truly is THE authority on historical fiction set in China. Although this is the book I've heard is the most "famous", I find "Shanghai Girls", "Dreams of Joy", and "Peony In Love" were a bit more to my tastes; I just connected more with those characters than I did with Snow Flower and Lily. That should not deter anyone from reading this novel, however - it is popular for a reason. It is extremely well-written, touchingly sad, and poignantly beautiful.

Qué angustia

I do not like it enough to finish

“El abanico de seda” es una ventana a un mundo asombroso y lejano, donde se describen tradiciones y costumbres de la vida rural en China, algunas de las cuales me resultaban completamente desconocidas, y eso que he leído varios libros sobre el tema, pues siempre me he sentido muy atraída por la cultura asiática.
Un ejemplo, es el aislamiento de las mujeres en la “habitación de arriba” donde quedaban prácticamente recluidas después de la pubertad, sin poder salir de ese entorno prácticamente para nada.
Otra de las costumbres muy bien descritas es la del vendaje de los pies, aunque de ésta si que había leído anteriormente. Es impactante la descripción que realiza la autora sobre el sufrimiento del vendado de los pies entre los 7-9 años para conseguir unos minúsculos “lotos dorados”. Lograr éstos pies diminutos marcaba el destino de las mujeres de una forma muy positiva ya que podría unirse en matrimonio con una familia rica y ser muy valoradas por sus esposos, ya que eran un poderoso atractivo sexual. Por otra parte, la autora tampoco ignora la parte más oscura de esta costumbre y los peligros que podia conllevar deformar los pies.
Otro tema muy interesante, sobre el que gira la trama de la novela y también desconocido para mi: la escritura nu-shu, lenguaje secreto inventado por las mujeres para comunicarse entre sí, cosa que hacían muchas enviándose abanicos con mensajes. De ésta manera podían sentirse un poco más libres, en el marco de una vida totalmente sometida al género masculino.
Éste lenguaje fue descubierto, descifrado y protegido, después de que con la revolución se eliminasen muchos de los los restos que quedaban en los bordados y recuerdos familiares.
Según explica la autora en la nota final de la novela, durante su estancia en China para la documentación de la novela, pudo visitar el museo del nu-shu.
El sexo de los hijos también marca esta historia donde nacer niño o niña definía la suerte y el futuro del recién nacido. En la novela se refleja el desprecio de una familia hacia las hijas, que solo significaban una boca más que alimentar hasta que contrajesen matrimonio y diesen a luz a hijos, su única función, y las ventajas que suponía tener un hijo varón.
Otro de las costumbres que nos descubre Lisa See en ésta novela es un vínculo muy importante que se establecía entre dos niñas y que era para siempre: “el laotong” (o almas gemelas), el cual tenía un valor oficial entre dos niñas que tenían algo en común, como por ejemplo, el día de nacimiento. En el caso de las protagonistas, Flor de Nieve y Lirio Blanco compartían muchísimas más cosas en común, por lo que sus familias acuerdan que sean laotongs. A partir de aquí se nos va narrando la vida de estas dos niñas, sus ritos cotidianos, sus penas y alegrías.
Es un libro bien escrito, de lectura fácil, estructurado en capítulos cortos , que deja traslucir la belleza de la amistad detrás de un mundo de dolor y sufrimiento.

Foot binding inflicted great suffering on millions of women over hundreds of years. But I too have suffered, in reading this book.

It reads like an autobiography, and not a very good one. The autobiography of someone who perpetually bemoans their lot and when things start to go their way, snidely gloats over others' lesser fortune and passes it off as a result of their inferior character and morals.

But it's worse than that, and more calculated, because this tirade of injustices is invented. It isn't an autobiography at all, its characters and setting far removed from its 'Chinese American' author's in both time and space.

The book underhandedly sings our narrator's own praises of cleverness, sensitivity and kindness and her enduring strength of character in overcoming these setbacks to win success. The author seems to be imagining herself as the narrator of the story and, as a result of this, attempting to paint her as the kind of woman she would want to be seen as. This agenda, which may not be a conscious one, poisons this book.

One conscious objective, though, I suspect, is that the target Western female reader sympathises with the sob story and in return feels that they have demonstrated compassion and a sensitive interest in another culture. And of course, they pay for this service by buying this book. Meanwhile, the author feels like she's gotten in touch with her roots (I think a great grandfather was Chinese). Everyone wins. And that's the transactional purpose of this tiresome and unpleasant novel.

Late in the book, when the whole village has fled to the mountains to escape some calamity, and people are dying and children are lost and scared, our narrator doesn't say "A child should never be in that condition," but instead, "No one should see a child in that condition”. This encapsulated perfectly the veiled spirit of self pity, and not compassion, that dominates this book.

It will bother especially the target female Western readers of this book to hear things like how a wife is at the bottom of the family unit, or a woman's worth is only measured by her sons, or the notion that a girl should obey her father, a wife her husband and a widow her sons. It will bother them more that these cultural, patriarchal values are internalised and perpetuated by a narrator who is a woman, a wife and a mother with a son herself. But this is exactly how we're supposed to feel. The book is manipulative in its agenda to show the sexism of Chinese traditional culture while not tarnishing with the brush of cultural imperialism the author, who is hiding behind her characters. Characters who are made up to serve their author's purposes and, I suspect, are quite far removed from the reality of people living in rural China at that time.

#MarzoAsiatico2021

Hermosa historia novelada de cómo un lenguaje, casi extinto, le dio a las mujeres un medio de comunicación propio en niveles socioeconómicos mejor acomodados. Un agradable homenaje a las tradiciones, aunque sean un poco extrañas para quienes somos occidentales, la amistad y el amor fraternal.

Out of about 20 prime Asian based novels of recent years, this is the strongest. It's a story and reality of detail that stays within my memory years beyond the reading.

A fascinating glimpse into the lives of women in 19th Century feudal China. Once the nightmares ended—induced by a gut wrenching foot binding chapter—I found the novel compelling. Beautifully written, well researched and brimming with cultural insights, it introduces us to a world where women were treated as property, their only worth in producing sons. While this is an unimaginably cruel view of womanhood, they accepted their lot in life while suffering separation, loss of children and indignities perpetrated by their culture and found a way to endure. I found myself clenching my fists, yet also resigned to understanding.

In a first person account, Lilly narrates the story as she reflects back on her life, her longing for love and at the heart of it her relationship to her laotong, Snow Flower, her emotional companion to whom she pledged eternal fidelity. This novel speaks to friendship, sisterhood and the bonds of family and tradition. In this way, it reminded me of The Red Tent. It also speaks to what we hold in our hearts long after we should have let go, practicing forgiveness and living with regret. It is a spell binding story of struggle and perseverance and it will stay with you long after the last page.