Daughters of Shandong

“Zhong nan qing nu, an idiom that meant ‘Value men and belittle women,’ was embedded in my understanding of our world.”

This proverb captures the traditional Chinese belief that women have less value in society and are useful only as mothers and tenders of the home. The worldview structures Hai’s childhood and her understanding of The Demands of Family Duty; a key part of her character arc is learning to resist this teaching and find her own worth. This belief also adds to the novel’s conflict, leading to Mom and the girls getting left behind when the rest of the Ang family escape the Communists.

“I followed suit, kowtowing before [Father and Nai Nai] like they were an emperor and empress dowager, for in our world that was what they were.”

As her parent and the Ang family’s first son and heir, Hai recognizes that her father has absolute control over her life as well as her mother and sisters. Ironically, though women have no value otherwise, Nai Nai, as the eldest female, rules the domestic space. Her cruelty is a precursor and foreshadowing to what Hai suffers when the Communists take over, and her stinginess foreshadows what Hai will go without during her time as a refugee. Nai Nai’s selfishness allows a questioning of the basis of authority that is a subtle motif throughout.

“Mom wouldn’t argue—she couldn’t argue. Mom was a wife who had failed the Angs, bringing them debt instead of continuity. If she couldn’t birth their heir, at least she could protect their wealth.”

The emphasis on the traditional roles of a wife, and the relative lack of value of women, poses a dramatic contrast to the tenaciousness and fortitude that the women show during their journey. While the Angs believe their money is in their wealth and try to preserve it, Mom realizes the family’s legacy is in the survival of her children, and it is this treasure she fights to protect.

“I would remember him now. I would always remember him. Remember them. In the dark of night, when other children saw monsters, I would see Comrade Kang and Comrade Lao, panting, smiling, screaming.”

Hai phrases her beating as a literal nightmare, understanding that the trauma of her assault will stay with her. The comrades who attack her become blended in her mind with all her fears. This passage captures the rhythmic style of Chung’s prose, which seems light and direct but can turn poetic, even haunting.

“Why would I abandon you all? Where would I go? There is nowhere in this world, in this life, worth going to without my daughters.”

In contrast to Father and Nai Nai, who do not value them, Mom declares that her daughters are precious to her and she would never part from them. Mom’s ability to sacrifice and her protectiveness of her daughters is further contrast to the rest of the Angs’ self-preservation, setting up a key dramatic conflict throughout the novel.

“You don’t need to ask me like a beggar. We are family.”

The demands of family duty is a strong and pervasive theme. Mom’s brother’s welcome when they arrive in Qingdao introduces the notion that family does not need to ask favors. Jian echoes this belief when he meets the family in Taiwan, confirming the obligation men have to protect and provide for the women in their lives. The correct behavior of these men provides a foil to Father, who is not as quick to enact his family duty.

“What comes next? Vague promises of equality? The Communists are bandits with no concrete plan on how to govern. For the near future, they will continue doing what they know and excel at—killing people and inciting violence.”

The novel portrays the Communists as bloodthirsty and enthralled by short-term thinking, killing the educated along with the wealthy and having no vision for how to govern peaceably. This creates a compelling conflict that urges the women to flee mainland China and presents an ongoing reminder to Hai of her trauma, adding to her character conflict.

“It is lonely knowing that our roots have been erased.”

Cousin Wei says this when he describes the purge that killed so many members of the Ang family, but this pronouncement is true for so many of the characters in the novel who are displaced by war or prejudice. Traditional Chinese culture places great value on ancestry and lineage while, in contrast, the Communists attempt to break family bonds and replace them with loyalty to fellow comrades and the cause.

“He’s a mountain dog. A peasant dog, really—he’s a true proletarian. The best type of dog to have now that the Communist Party is in power.”

Hai’s plea for Cousin Wei to take their dog, Lucky, is one of the few moments of humor in a narrative otherwise filled with struggle, as she associates the mutt with the proletarian class, the working class the Communist Party aims to liberate. Hai’s attachment to Lucky shows the affection in her nature and her wish to take care of others, invoking Self-Preservation Through Community.

“Mom held us close under her arms instinctively, as if her flesh could protect us from a stray bullet.”

Mom’s protectiveness of the girls is a strong element during the sections that describe their time as refugees. Her willingness to sacrifice herself is a stark contrast to Nai Nai, who feels that children should exist to serve and care for her. Mom’s conception of the demands of family duty is thus rooted in genuine love and care for her daughters, not mere tradition or duty alone.

“In later years, people would risk their lives to cross this border, many swimming across the river in desperation to escape from the Communist regime. For us, this short walk was one of the simpler parts of our journey.”

This passage, when the family crosses from Shenzhen to Hong Kong, provides one of the rare moments when the narrator looks ahead to the future. For the most part, the story, told in first-person from Hai’s point-of-view, sticks to the present moment. These references to historical events and the future of China under the Communist regime (See: Background) provide valuable background information for a reader unacquainted with the history. Hai also uses this moment to reflect on the ironies of the family’s struggle when seen in a larger context of immigration patterns.

“I was dirty. I was poor. I ate garbage. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. It was hard being akin to vermin in a glittering city.”

Hai’s situation in Hong Kong, when she encounters insults for living on the streets, illustrates how those in poverty are often viewed by those who have more. The novel speaks for those who are displaced, showing the difficulty of their situations and their limited opportunities.

“My life felt like the storm outside, like I was constantly battered by forces beyond my control, with no end in sight.”

The rainstorm that Hai encounters in Hong Kong offers an instance of pathetic fallacy for how helpless she feels about her situation. This is another way Chung explores the plight of refugees and the strategies one relies on for survival, especially help from others.

“You have held this family up. You have held this family together.”

Learning from Nai Nai that her husband intends to remarry is a devastating blow for Hai’s mother, and one filled with irony. She has sacrificed so much to try to reunite with him, only to stumble at the obstacle of her mother-in-law’s personal hatred and prejudice. This realization offers a moment of maturity for Hai’s character arc as she offers strength to her mother, sharing her protective instincts.

“Our world had been broken by the war, but perhaps that meant that we could piece it together in a different way. Maybe here, we could finally live—not as we ought to, but as we wanted to.”

Hai comes to see their situation in Hong Kong, and their separation from the Angs, as an opportunity to break free from the traditions and expectations that the Angs represent. The geographical and economic break allows a cultural break as well, which Hai sees as affording them the freedom of self-determination. This self-sufficiency poses a significant contrast to the traditional values of her upbringing and the demands of family duty to which her mother adheres.

“We had no choice but to accept the regime in power and move forward. It was like learning to carry an umbrella and smile through the rain.”

This analogy represents how Hai feels about the necessity of adapting to whatever government is in power, invoking adapting as survival strategy. The inevitability of changing government, however, poses a stark contrast to returning to her father’s authority, which to Mom is a necessity but to Hai and Di is a choice. While the novel makes few overt political arguments, this comment on the powerlessness of the populace under an authoritative regime resonates with the current moment in many countries.

“When we were on our own, Di was an essential, irreplaceable part of our family. All of us needed to work together to survive. Upon our return to the Angs, however, we would once again be useless mouths to feed.”

A dramatic contrast in the book is the way that, despite the economic hardship, being refugees bonds the family together and tests their resourcefulness, resiliency, and interdependence. For the girls, all this stands to be lost if they return to their father, where their independence will be taken away. Hai manages to adapt to this, survive, and thrive; it is Di, the survivor, who is most hurt by this final sacrifice.

“Both of us knew that in more ways than one, we could never return home again.”

Hai and Di are not actually returning home when they reunite with their family, just taking flight yet again to a new place that may not protect them. Hai’s sense of home and family has been defined by self-preservation through community, which she knows will change when Father and Nai Nai are once again the authorities over their lives. The question of what makes a home is a key idea in the book, considering much of the action describes the travels of displaced persons.

“Watching [the flags] flapping defiantly was surreal—almost as though the revolution had not happened. The country that we had mourned these past years was still alive, still holding on.”

For the protagonists, going to Taiwan is a repatriation not only into their family but in some ways into the culture they have left behind, represented by the Kuomintang government of Taiwan. This observation on the survival of the country resonates with the discussion about strategies individuals take to survive and to preserve their families and communities. Chung explores the conflicts that arise from this return when the characters have changed but are expected to fit into old sets of expectations.

“As Nai Nai struggled to rise, I saw her for what she was—the most feeble of us all, unable to even stand on her own, dependent on our obedience to reign.”

Hai experiences an epiphany when she stands up to Nai Nai and her father. She has learned strength from her struggles and refuses to be demure or ashamed. This is an important moment in her character arc, when she recognizes the harmful impacts of the cultural values she has been taught and is able to question the basis of the authority she has always been taught to obey. The novel’s arguments about gender equality and human dignity no matter one’s socioeconomic status emerge through Hai’s character arc.

“We cannot put the present on hold because of fears of what might lie ahead.”

The novel explores many responses to trauma, and Mom, in giving this advice to Hai, models resilience and fortitude. She has made many sacrifices for her children, all calculated to give them a better future. In this she is a figure of hope as well as of maternal love.

“I took my acceptance letter and slept with it under my pillow. I finally felt as though I had some measure of control over my own destiny.”

Hai fulfills a promise to herself when she gets admitted to teaching school; she finally sees a way to support herself and defy what Nai Nai has always called her, a useless mouth to feed. The letter becomes her symbol and acknowledgement that she can succeed and support herself and therefore will need to submit to no one.

“For the rest of my life, I would never feel completely safe; even in our best moments, there was a voice within me that questioned when we might be forced to flee again.”

The lingering doubt and uncertainty Hai feels even as a secure adult speaks to the long-term effects of the traumas of war, displacement, and poverty. The novel chooses a realistic portrayal of the effects of war, starvation, and being unhoused when exploring adapting as survival strategy.