Eileen Chang is the English name for Chinese author 張愛玲, who was born to a prominent family in Shanghai (one of her great-grandfathers was Li Hongzhang) in 1920.
She went to a prestigious girls' school in Shanghai, where she changed her name from Chang Ying to Chang Ai-ling to match her English name, Eileen. Afterwards, she attended the University of Hong Kong, but had to go back to Shanghai when Hong Kong fell to Japan during WWII. While in Shanghai, she was briefly married to Hu Lancheng, the notorious Japanese collaborator, but later got a divorce.
After WWII ended, she returned to Hong Kong and later immigrated to the United States in 1955. She married a scriptwriter in 1956 and worked as a screenwriter herself for a Hong Kong film studio for a number of years, before her husband's death in 1967. She moved from New York to Los Angeles in 1972 and became a hermit of sorts during her last years. She passed away alone in her apartment in 1995.
I can’t describe how euphoric reading this novella felt. Set in 1930s Hong Kong, written by an alumna of my university, and read during the exact same rainy season while looking out at those same foggy green mountains, I felt like a time traveller.
It is unbelievable that this was Eileen Chang’s debut. The story itself is a cocktail of grand hopes, the battle between clarity and passion, and the inescapable reality that we are all just products of our environment.
In Chinese, there’s a saying: 常在河邊走,哪有不濕鞋 (If you walk by the river often enough, you're bound to get your shoes wet). When Weilong walked into Madame Liang’s house, she already knew it would cost her, but her naivety blinded her to the true extent of that price. I will definitely be reading this again in the original Chinese. (Such a privilege I know! 😭)