The Lost Daughter of Happiness, by Geling Yan
I’m not sure how to describe this beautiful novel. On one level, it is a mysterious love story between a Chinese prostitute, Fusang, in San Francisco’s Chinatown in the 1860’s and 1870’s and a white boy of German heritage, Chris. On another level it is an exploration of a Chinese immigrant woman at the beginning of the 21st century attempting to research Fusang as a way of understanding the history of Chinese people in San Francisco, as well as the relationship between Chinese and white people.
The Lost Daughter of Happiness begins with the modern-day Chinese immigrant writer addressing Fusang. Here is a passage from page 2:
I know who you were: a twenty-year-old prostitute, one of a succession of three thousand prostitutes from China. When you stepped upon these golden shores, you were a fully grown woman. You had no skills, no seductive charm, not a trace of lust in your eyes. People could sense your distinctive simplicity the moment they met you.
Parts of the novel are told in a conventional narrative in third person. In other parts, the narrator speaks in first person, addressing Fusang as “you,” or relating information from the 160 books she has been reading on the history of San Francisco’s Chinatown, or even talking about her own relationship with her white husband.
I found the story to be compelling and suspenseful, especially as Fusang finds herself in dangerous situations, and as Chris, who is only 12 when he first sees Fusang, attempts to get to know her. However, the novel is not always told in chronological order. Flashbacks and flash forwards force the reader to piece together the narrative, which can sometimes be confusing, but can also reveal surprises. Ultimately, I found the structure of the novel intriguing and thought-provoking.
Fusang and the other characters often function more as symbols than as fully developed characters. Sometimes Fusang can be a puzzling mystery who seems almost unreal to Chris and to the reader. Yet she is also a flesh-and-blood woman who experiences pain, sadness, and joy.
Although the author, Geling Yan, lives in the United States, she writes most of her books in Chinese. This book was first published in Taiwan and translated into English by Cathy Silber. I suspect that American readers might miss some symbolic references that would be apparent to a Chinese reader. For example, several times Fusang plays a haunting tune on her flute, a song called “Shepherd Su Wu.” I looked this up and found out that the song is a reference to a Chinese hero lauded for his faith and loyalty despite extreme stress. In case you’re curious, here is a performance of the Shepherd Su Wu song on flute.
If you are looking for a story with a linear plot and easy-to-understand characters, this is not the book for you. But if you enjoy magical realism and are intrigued by multiple layers of meaning, you might treasure this book.
For more information about Geling Yan, please see her web site.