With the reissue of "The Rouge of the North" and "The Rice Sprout Song", readers will have the opportunity to appreciate Eileen Chang's elegant prose style, her harrowing analyses of human motives, and her keen understanding of desire, loneliness, and hunger, both physical and metaphysical. "Eileen Chang beautifully and movingly evokes 20th-century China and the hearts and minds of Chinese women".--Jung Chang, author of "Wild Swans".
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.
This was my first time reading Eileen Chang, and I was drawn to her subtle, delicate portrayal of emotion. There’s a kind of emotional depth in her writing that feels so real—like something you can only express if you’ve actually lived through it. The Rouge of the North reminded me of the film Raise the Red Lantern. Both explore the suffocating traditions and twisted values of a feudal society, and the impact they have on women’s lives. The story is filled with suppressed feelings, the burden of living under others’ expectations, and the obsession with saving face—a very recognizable trait of traditional Chinese culture. I’d give it 3.5 stars. It didn’t shock me, but it didn’t disappoint either—like watching a quiet, beautifully crafted drama film.
This book follows the story of a Chinese woman called Yindi, who goes through an arranged marriage. At first, she is resigned to the marriage, but eventually she gets used to it and no longer expresses her resentment at her husband. The book also explores Yindi's relationships with her brother and his wife, and her other sister-in-laws, as well as her mother-in-law. It also includes a small affair that she secretly shares with her brother-in-law, who takes an interest in Yindi, much to her dismay.
This book was kind of boring because of it had extremely confusing language. I had to read it a few times before understanding just the gist of the text. This is probably because it was translated from Chinese. I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone to read.
I ran out of time, but not sure if I will pick this book up again. Honestly, I have no idea what it was about. I think Eileen was smoking opium when she wrote this, just a mish mash of people I have no idea where one family ended and the next began.
怎么说呢 很drama 但又确实portray了something significant and new to me
Gives insight into some women at that time period (清朝末年 ~late 1890 to early 1900) -- mostly represented thru the main character -- being concubines, not even to men but to historically significant families; insignificant on their own, complaining about their poverty or mediocracy, chasing things of vanity and glory, going about the superficial relationships with those they have to spend every day with in the families they married into, birthing sons ideally, raising sons that grow up to become like the useless men in their lives, passing on the toxicity to their children's wives, finding none of the love their youthful selves dreamed of, oh and becoming opium addicts. Nice
It's a pretty new topic for me, and I enjoyed the read
the short stories mostly written after the japanese war and the revolution. I really didn’t like most of the ones in this collection as much as the first two, but can’t give an intelligent reason why. 怨女 is a rewrite of 金锁记, except this time instead of oppressing her daughter, the oppressed woman creates an oppressive son. The first story, 小艾, is from the point of view of a girl sold into slavery as a child, who tries to make a normal life for herself after marrying for love. There is also a wildly funny parody of “free romance” in the new era.
A beautiful, lower class woman is turned into a dragon lady by the stultifying atmosphere of pre-revolution upper class Shanghai. Another of Chang's sharp, insightful works of fiction. A real talent.