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Dear Chrysanthemums: A Novel in Stories
Longlisted for the 2024 Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction, a startling and vivid debut novel in stories from acclaimed poet and translator Fiona Sze-Lorrain, featuring deeply compelling Asian women who reckon with the past, violence, and exile—set in Shanghai, Beijing, Singapore, Paris, and New York.
Composed of several interconnected stories, each taking place in a year ending with the number six, ironically a number that in Chinese divination signifies “a smooth life,” Dear Chrysanthemums is a novel about the scourge of inhumanity, survival, and past trauma that never leaves. The women in these stories are cooks, musicians, dancers, protestors, mothers and daughters, friends and enemies, all inexplicably connected in one way or another.
“Cooking for Madame Chiang,” 1946: Two cooks work for Madame Chiang Kai-shek and prepare a foreign dish craved by their mistress, which becomes a political weapon and leads to their tragic end.
“Death at the Wukang Mansion,” 1966: Punished for her extramarital affair, a dancer is transferred to Shanghai during the Cultural Revolution and assigned to an ominous apartment in a building whose other residents often depart in coffins.
“The White Piano,” 1966: A budding pianist from New York City settles down in Paris and is assaulted when a mysterious piano arrives from Singapore.
“The Invisible Window,” 2016: After their exile following the Tiananmen Square massacre, three women gather in a French cathedral to renew their friendship and reunite in their grief and faith.
With devastating precision, a masterly ear for language, and a profound understanding of both human cruelty and compassion, Fiona Sze-Lorrain weaves Dear Chrysanthemums , an evocative and disturbing portrait of diasporic life, the shared story of uprooting, resilience, artistic expression, and enduring love.
Composed of several interconnected stories, each taking place in a year ending with the number six, ironically a number that in Chinese divination signifies “a smooth life,” Dear Chrysanthemums is a novel about the scourge of inhumanity, survival, and past trauma that never leaves. The women in these stories are cooks, musicians, dancers, protestors, mothers and daughters, friends and enemies, all inexplicably connected in one way or another.
“Cooking for Madame Chiang,” 1946: Two cooks work for Madame Chiang Kai-shek and prepare a foreign dish craved by their mistress, which becomes a political weapon and leads to their tragic end.
“Death at the Wukang Mansion,” 1966: Punished for her extramarital affair, a dancer is transferred to Shanghai during the Cultural Revolution and assigned to an ominous apartment in a building whose other residents often depart in coffins.
“The White Piano,” 1966: A budding pianist from New York City settles down in Paris and is assaulted when a mysterious piano arrives from Singapore.
“The Invisible Window,” 2016: After their exile following the Tiananmen Square massacre, three women gather in a French cathedral to renew their friendship and reunite in their grief and faith.
With devastating precision, a masterly ear for language, and a profound understanding of both human cruelty and compassion, Fiona Sze-Lorrain weaves Dear Chrysanthemums , an evocative and disturbing portrait of diasporic life, the shared story of uprooting, resilience, artistic expression, and enduring love.
176 pages, Paperback
Published May 2, 2023
14 people are currently reading
3791 people want to read
About the author
Fiona Sze-Lorrain
23 books31 followersFiona Sze-Lorrain is a writer, poet, translator, musician, and editor who writes and translates in English, French, and Chinese. She is the author of a novel Dear Chrysanthemums (Scribner, 2023), which was longlisted for the 2024 Carnegie Medal for Excellence. She has also published five poetry collections including Rain in Plural (Princeton, 2020) and The Ruined Elegance (Princeton, 2016), and fifteen books of translation, including Moonlight Rests on My Left Palm by Yu Xiuhua (Astra House, 2021). Sze-Lorrain's books have been finalists for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, the Derek Walcott Prize for Poetry, and the Best Translated Book Award. As a zheng harpist, she has performed around the world. She lives in Paris.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 58 reviews
May 8, 2023
Mei unburdened her secret without a trace of regret. When we set our secrets free, we become orphaned by ourselves and grieve our own death.
This is a gorgeous novel whose fragmentation in form and structure reflects and refracts the content of the stories of which it is made and their deeper substance. Drawing primarily on the twentieth century history of China, this explores the effects on the live of mostly women. What makes it so clever are the lacunae in the stories: some due to lies, deceptions and prevarications, some to family secrets, some to traumatic losses of memory, and some to pure lack of knowledge: some people simply disappear and no-one knows for sure what happened to them.
I loved tracing the way characters and families weave through the narrative, and the patterns that are created: people leave their home voluntarily or forcibly, women arrive in a new household or apartment that holds its own history, musical instruments hold fractured families tentatively together, and food is linked to place, memory and identity.
Sze-Lorrain's writing is light on exposition and historical background and expects us to be aware of the beats of Chinese history: from the Japanese invasion to Chiang Kai-Shek, Mao and the Revolution, dissidence and the horrors of Tiananmen Square. All of it becomes local and personal in this book epitomised by loss and memory.
At times I was reminded of the writing of Eileen Chang (but is that because she's one of the few Chinese female writers of stories known in the west?) and there's a wonderful tale where Marguerite Duras makes an appearance, becoming tentative friends with a Vietnamese woman in a cafe-bar in Paris, the year before Duras' death, and recalling her own childhood in Vietnam.
In a few places I wanted just a little more tautness in the narrative flow but this is a wonderful book that melds form and substance immaculately and which breathes an atmosphere of precarity, memory and exile.
June 10, 2023
Thank you to Goodreads Giveaways and Scribner, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, for providing a copy of this novel in stories, for review.
The first thing that drew me to this book was the structure. I love interconnected stories. It seems like a challenging way to write, but an effective one, especially if the writer wishes to reveal the plot points slowly.
The mysterious aura of the story is immediately apparent in the beautifully poetic description of the art of Chinese calligraphy.
The author deliberately contrasts the beauty of the ink flowing from the brush like a languid dancer, to the raw ugliness of the Cultural Revolution. The first story begins in Shanghai, in the area formerly occupied by the wealthy elite, now populated by the nervous citizens of a new era.
In a quick burst of events, Sze-Lorrain covers both expected and unexpected territory, everything from the possibility of forgiveness and redemption, to the shame and terror of being exposed as "other."
There is a creeping horror to the realization that the one who gives is the same one who takes it away, an unstoppable force.
The pattern of change continues with the previous generation managing the uncertainties and vulnerabilities of Civil War in China.
What these stories have in common so far is the desperate experiences of women in conflict. They must make quick decisions, having no idea if their choices are right or wrong, or who they might affect. Fate and fortune are fickle. Every woman is born into uncertainty and every woman must adapt.
Jumping ahead 17 years, the POV changes also, so that the character in the last story can be seen outside of herself. Seen in memory, we see the past of other characters we've caught a glimpse of.
We should find the stories of what women did to survive abhorrent and shocking, but at the same time, we believe them.
Next, the author takes us to modern day Paris and introduces us to three long-time friends who are in a cathedral to meditate, each regarding the silence of remembrance. We are invited to ponder whether silence has presence, weight, or language. The author invites philosophical thought in every chapter.
Does time have meaning in itself or does it only exist in context: through memories and experiences? Can we slip away and be released from time?
All three of the friends in the cathedral are Chinese, yet they experiment with transcending their country of origin, their past, their experiences, even themselves. They escaped the terror of the Cultural Revolution, but they cannot escape their memories. They are tied to a time and a place, forever.
With bitterness, they lament that not only do young people have no idea of what the older people went through in the Cultural Revolution, but also, ironically, they are too hung-up on capitalistic values to fight for their freedom in the present day. They think freedom means being able to buy things, not the freedom to think. Strong experiences trigger strong emotions.
For these women, speech is action. Silence is life without movement. Silence is memory in stasis.
The chapters continue, slowly unraveling the connections among the characters, while letting time flow in both directions.
The characters are nearly always in some kind of peril, suffering gritty survival techniques and fighting off whomever is trying to hurt them that day. The author throws in a bit of nurture with fate, though, suggesting that we all become servants to whatever we feed. It seems that only extraordinary bravery can transcend this trap.
The women in this story might be mortified to know that, to borrow a term from the Great Reformation, they were trying to "rectify the wind," by definition, an impossible task, not a little like reformation itself.
The first thing that drew me to this book was the structure. I love interconnected stories. It seems like a challenging way to write, but an effective one, especially if the writer wishes to reveal the plot points slowly.
The mysterious aura of the story is immediately apparent in the beautifully poetic description of the art of Chinese calligraphy.
The author deliberately contrasts the beauty of the ink flowing from the brush like a languid dancer, to the raw ugliness of the Cultural Revolution. The first story begins in Shanghai, in the area formerly occupied by the wealthy elite, now populated by the nervous citizens of a new era.
In a quick burst of events, Sze-Lorrain covers both expected and unexpected territory, everything from the possibility of forgiveness and redemption, to the shame and terror of being exposed as "other."
There is a creeping horror to the realization that the one who gives is the same one who takes it away, an unstoppable force.
The pattern of change continues with the previous generation managing the uncertainties and vulnerabilities of Civil War in China.
What these stories have in common so far is the desperate experiences of women in conflict. They must make quick decisions, having no idea if their choices are right or wrong, or who they might affect. Fate and fortune are fickle. Every woman is born into uncertainty and every woman must adapt.
Jumping ahead 17 years, the POV changes also, so that the character in the last story can be seen outside of herself. Seen in memory, we see the past of other characters we've caught a glimpse of.
We should find the stories of what women did to survive abhorrent and shocking, but at the same time, we believe them.
Next, the author takes us to modern day Paris and introduces us to three long-time friends who are in a cathedral to meditate, each regarding the silence of remembrance. We are invited to ponder whether silence has presence, weight, or language. The author invites philosophical thought in every chapter.
Does time have meaning in itself or does it only exist in context: through memories and experiences? Can we slip away and be released from time?
All three of the friends in the cathedral are Chinese, yet they experiment with transcending their country of origin, their past, their experiences, even themselves. They escaped the terror of the Cultural Revolution, but they cannot escape their memories. They are tied to a time and a place, forever.
With bitterness, they lament that not only do young people have no idea of what the older people went through in the Cultural Revolution, but also, ironically, they are too hung-up on capitalistic values to fight for their freedom in the present day. They think freedom means being able to buy things, not the freedom to think. Strong experiences trigger strong emotions.
For these women, speech is action. Silence is life without movement. Silence is memory in stasis.
The chapters continue, slowly unraveling the connections among the characters, while letting time flow in both directions.
The characters are nearly always in some kind of peril, suffering gritty survival techniques and fighting off whomever is trying to hurt them that day. The author throws in a bit of nurture with fate, though, suggesting that we all become servants to whatever we feed. It seems that only extraordinary bravery can transcend this trap.
The women in this story might be mortified to know that, to borrow a term from the Great Reformation, they were trying to "rectify the wind," by definition, an impossible task, not a little like reformation itself.
January 31, 2023
In this novel in stories, Fiona Sze-Lorrain’s talent is not only cemented in her prose but also hinted by her instrument’s cameo. Sze-Lorrain is a celebrated guzheng harpist, as is the character Mei. In the story, Mei gets a reprieve from her thought reform labor, plucking chrysanthemums in the mountains, to play this instrument for Chairman Mao and Richard Nixon.
Each story is compelling and complete, but they are tied through personal connections. This sort of small-world hypothesis technique enriches the novel by enlarging the viewpoints.
It’s worth a visit to Sze-Lorrain’s website to listen as she plays the guzheng and reads her poetry. You can find her at fionasze dot com.
I extend my gratitude to Scribner and NetGalley for providing this eARC.
Each story is compelling and complete, but they are tied through personal connections. This sort of small-world hypothesis technique enriches the novel by enlarging the viewpoints.
It’s worth a visit to Sze-Lorrain’s website to listen as she plays the guzheng and reads her poetry. You can find her at fionasze dot com.
I extend my gratitude to Scribner and NetGalley for providing this eARC.
March 30, 2023
loved
September 2, 2023
Fiona Sze-Lorrain's Dear Chrysanthemums: A Novel in Stories is, as one might extrapolate, a bit of a puzzle. She offers readers richly detailed, specific moments in the lives of her characters—not necessarily in chronological order—and the reader has to construct these pieces to build for herself the underlying narrative. The stories are set in China, France, and the US and span a period from the mid-20th Century to the present.
I want to say both that
1. reading this book requires a willingness to be a bit frustrated
and
2. the pay-off in the end makes those frustrations worthwhile.
Sze-Lorrain trusts readers to come to this book with an internal sense of the timeline of recent Chinese history beginning just before the communist revolution, moving through the cultural revolution, the student uprisings in Tiananmen square, to today's more pragmatic and economically based relations between China and the rest of the world. The reader doesn't need to be an excerpt in any of this, but consulting Wikipedia before beginning reading and as needed during the book's progression certainly wouldn't hurt.
Dear Chrysanthemums is one of those books that offer a significant payoff in the end. The final story clarifies the relationships among the disparate characters so that an overview of the China's recent history as experienced by its citizens suddenly becomes clear, as if one has reached the apex of a string of hills and is looking out over a new landscape. And after that reading, comes all the interesting chewing on what Sze-Lorraine has given us, finding our own understandings of the book's characters and lessons. This is the phase I'm in now, and I'm quite enjoying it.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Net Galley; the opinions are my own.
I want to say both that
1. reading this book requires a willingness to be a bit frustrated
and
2. the pay-off in the end makes those frustrations worthwhile.
Sze-Lorrain trusts readers to come to this book with an internal sense of the timeline of recent Chinese history beginning just before the communist revolution, moving through the cultural revolution, the student uprisings in Tiananmen square, to today's more pragmatic and economically based relations between China and the rest of the world. The reader doesn't need to be an excerpt in any of this, but consulting Wikipedia before beginning reading and as needed during the book's progression certainly wouldn't hurt.
Dear Chrysanthemums is one of those books that offer a significant payoff in the end. The final story clarifies the relationships among the disparate characters so that an overview of the China's recent history as experienced by its citizens suddenly becomes clear, as if one has reached the apex of a string of hills and is looking out over a new landscape. And after that reading, comes all the interesting chewing on what Sze-Lorraine has given us, finding our own understandings of the book's characters and lessons. This is the phase I'm in now, and I'm quite enjoying it.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Net Galley; the opinions are my own.
June 8, 2023
A gorgeous and at times challenging collection of interconnected stories spanning decades. Featuring a compelling cast of Asian women at different points or crossroads in their lives, it's a delicately stunning collection that meditates on generational trauma and strength through memory. Fiona Sze-Lorrain is a poet and a musician, and this is wonderfully highlighted through her writing here. I found some stories to be stronger than others, but finding the connections between them all was a joy. I'm not a huge re-reader but this begs for another chance to feel the resilience of the characters. There's something cyclical about their stories, which is perhaps a warning, perhaps a comfort, or maybe both.
May 22, 2023
“Doesn’t life seem like a film?” // picked this up knowing absolutely nothing about it or the author and was pleasantly surprised !!
April 26, 2023
NOTE: I RECEIVED AN ARC FROM THE PUBLISHER with the expectation of a review.
This is a beautiful and brief "novel in stories." While I appreciate the lush language, I think I would have gotten even more from the story overall if I had a more firm grasp of the geopolitics of Chairman Mao and his legacy. I had a little trouble following the through-line, the plot threads as evasive as the silk string of a guzheng.
That said, it's clear that Sze-Lorrain is a poet. This slim tome makes me want to pick up any of her translation work in addition to her poetry. She makes the most astute observations with the most concise and lovely language.
This is a beautiful and brief "novel in stories." While I appreciate the lush language, I think I would have gotten even more from the story overall if I had a more firm grasp of the geopolitics of Chairman Mao and his legacy. I had a little trouble following the through-line, the plot threads as evasive as the silk string of a guzheng.
That said, it's clear that Sze-Lorrain is a poet. This slim tome makes me want to pick up any of her translation work in addition to her poetry. She makes the most astute observations with the most concise and lovely language.
May 2, 2023
I feel like I need to read this book a second time because there were a few stories I didn’t quite get/understand and I feel like I might have missed some of the ways the stories were linked/connected.
I can see how this book could be harder for someone who isn’t familiar with aspects of Chinese history, but for me - I liked getting the glimpses of the human experience during the different historic periods. It was hard for me personally to be thrown into a story without a chronological build up..I found myself wanting to figure out the foundation of the story and the explaining details while reading it, but that was probably more of a personal problem!
I’m torn between 3 1/2 and 4 stars…so I’m going to lean towards 4 because I really liked how the stories focused on women and being able to grasp the trauma associated with surviving these painful periods of Chinese history.
I can see how this book could be harder for someone who isn’t familiar with aspects of Chinese history, but for me - I liked getting the glimpses of the human experience during the different historic periods. It was hard for me personally to be thrown into a story without a chronological build up..I found myself wanting to figure out the foundation of the story and the explaining details while reading it, but that was probably more of a personal problem!
I’m torn between 3 1/2 and 4 stars…so I’m going to lean towards 4 because I really liked how the stories focused on women and being able to grasp the trauma associated with surviving these painful periods of Chinese history.
February 22, 2024
read my full review here: https://writingchinese.leeds.ac.uk/bo...
The structure of this novel is particularly intriguing. The short (but engaging) chapters switch between time zones and time eras with a the lack of chronology that could be troubling for those not well versed in Chinese history. But I found this a refreshing approach to Chinese historical fiction, an interesting way to explore how historical events impact the future, and how recent happenings link back to the past.
These stories are mysterious and ambigious, each with an unexpected twist that caught me by surprise each time. They seem simple, trivial stories about everyday happenings, but if you look a little deeper, you’ll notice these stories are LOADED with social commentary, notes on the female experience and musings on sexuality, all touched on in a subtle, rather authentic way.
The theme of erasure is touched on not only in the novel's ambiguity, but also in the strong sense of place that is created by the novels descriptions. Time and place are constantly in dialogue with one another, and a particular buildings significance is kept alive through its use as a literary setting.
Another interesting idea explored is objects and their 'afterlife' - their history and upkeep, and the significance they might hold in the history of our own lives. The idea of an object’s history being a story invoked a revelation in me. Very rarely do I consider where a chair or table was made, who made it, or how many people have sat on it before me. It is interesting to consider against the backdrop of modern-day over-consumption or throwaway culture, whereby objects are created, destroyed, bought and sold with little thought of its origins, or where it might end up in the future.
In this stories host of what one might call ‘unlikeable’ female characters there is a certain authenticity and relatability that I strive to find in literature. The overwhelming feeling I felt after finishing this book is that is conveyed the human experience, especially the female experience, in a very authentic way. This unfiltered approach landed well with me.
The structure of this novel is particularly intriguing. The short (but engaging) chapters switch between time zones and time eras with a the lack of chronology that could be troubling for those not well versed in Chinese history. But I found this a refreshing approach to Chinese historical fiction, an interesting way to explore how historical events impact the future, and how recent happenings link back to the past.
These stories are mysterious and ambigious, each with an unexpected twist that caught me by surprise each time. They seem simple, trivial stories about everyday happenings, but if you look a little deeper, you’ll notice these stories are LOADED with social commentary, notes on the female experience and musings on sexuality, all touched on in a subtle, rather authentic way.
The theme of erasure is touched on not only in the novel's ambiguity, but also in the strong sense of place that is created by the novels descriptions. Time and place are constantly in dialogue with one another, and a particular buildings significance is kept alive through its use as a literary setting.
Another interesting idea explored is objects and their 'afterlife' - their history and upkeep, and the significance they might hold in the history of our own lives. The idea of an object’s history being a story invoked a revelation in me. Very rarely do I consider where a chair or table was made, who made it, or how many people have sat on it before me. It is interesting to consider against the backdrop of modern-day over-consumption or throwaway culture, whereby objects are created, destroyed, bought and sold with little thought of its origins, or where it might end up in the future.
In this stories host of what one might call ‘unlikeable’ female characters there is a certain authenticity and relatability that I strive to find in literature. The overwhelming feeling I felt after finishing this book is that is conveyed the human experience, especially the female experience, in a very authentic way. This unfiltered approach landed well with me.
March 16, 2024
3.5 stars. I listened to this on audiobook which for me was a mistake as I struggled to trace the links and nuances between the stories without having the words in front of me. Despite this I did like the very different settings (or maybe circumstances?) that each story took and how so many highlighted particular aspects of Chinese culture (e.g. music, dancing, food) as well as very different aspects of its (and its recent diaspora’s) history from the past hundred years or so. There were pieces that read more as journalistic accounts and one story in particular that felt a bit didactic but again this may have read better in print. Despite undoubtedly missing a lot of the links, they are there and continue right up to the last few pages so this is definitely a book that you need to view in its entirety. I may well be tempted to go back and read the print version of this in the future - despite my seemingly lukewarm response there was plenty that did interest me and I would like to see what difference that would make to my overall view of the book.
July 20, 2025
I really wanted to love this book! It follows an all-Chinese cast of characters and I love how I could instantly connect to them. Unfortunately, I felt like a lot more context was needed to enjoy the stories more. The author uses real historical events like the massacre and Mao that serve as a backdrop . I don’t know much about China’s history to fully receive what the author was trying to give me. The writing felt encrypted too. I struggled to read between the lines. I couldn’t figure out if the protagonists from one of the stories were living or dead.
Want to read
April 23, 2023A slim volume that takes on big issues- quietly. These stories of Chinese women, all set in years that end in 6, take the reader through tumultuous times and trauma. We meet Madame Chiang Kai-Shek's cook, a ballerina taken from the stage during the cultural revolution, a pianist, and women who were at Tiananmen Square. It helps to know a bit about post WWII Chinese history. These are spare portraits but they carry a punch. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. For fans of literary fiction.
2023
June 17, 2024📱 Thank you to NetGalley and Scribner
September 17, 2025
2.5 stars, rounded to 3.
A lot of the stories just didn’t do anything for me but I still enjoyed reading the book and want to read more by this author. The stories that I did enjoy were excellent and really stuck with me after finishing the book!
A lot of the stories just didn’t do anything for me but I still enjoyed reading the book and want to read more by this author. The stories that I did enjoy were excellent and really stuck with me after finishing the book!
October 17, 2023
“Dear Chrysanthemums: A Novel in Stories” by Fiona Sze-Lorrain ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Genre: Historical fiction. Location: Shanghai and Beijing, China; Singapore; Paris, France; and New York City, New York, USA. TIme: 1946-2016. NOTE: Put aside Western expectations re: writing style, plot, narrative, characters. Read and absorb this for what it is.
Author Fiona Sze-Lorrain is a French poet and translator of post-colonial Asian heritage. Her debut novel shares stories about Asian women whose lives were shaped by the Chinese civil war, the Cultural Revolution, the Tiananmen Square massacre. All stories takes place during years ending with 6, “a divine number...[meaning] a smooth life, a perfect path.” “Death at the Wukang Mansion,” In 1966, during the Cultural Revolution, an accomplished ballerina is transferred to Shanghai, and assigned to an apartment building where residents often leave in coffins.
“Cooking for Madame Chiang,” In 1946 Beijing, 2 cooks working for Madame Chiang Kai-shek prepare a foreign dish she craves, which becomes a political weapon and leads to their tragic end.
“The Invisible Window,” In 2016, 3 women reunite in a Paris cathedral once each year after being exiled from China following the 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre.
“The White Piano,” (1976-2016) A young, Julliard-trained pianist moves from New York City to Paris and is assaulted when a mysterious piano arrives from Singapore.
“Dear Chrysanthemums,” (1946-2006) A famous guzheng (Chinese plucked zither) musician’s fortunes rise and fall during Mao Zedong’s reign.
Sze-Lorrain writes of women facing impossible odds in the middle of historical and cultural upheaval. She adds cultural and racial diversity into her stories of the diaspora, combining the broad political (oppression, violence, displacement, death) and the intimate personal (dance, music, writing, cooking). Her voice is beautifully lyrical, but also fearless and heartbreaking as she blends their stories of trauma and resilience. Its an immersive experience, and it’s 4 stars from me🌵📚💁🏼♀️ Thank you to Scribner and Fiona Sze-Lorrain for this early copy. Publishes 5/2/2023.
Author Fiona Sze-Lorrain is a French poet and translator of post-colonial Asian heritage. Her debut novel shares stories about Asian women whose lives were shaped by the Chinese civil war, the Cultural Revolution, the Tiananmen Square massacre. All stories takes place during years ending with 6, “a divine number...[meaning] a smooth life, a perfect path.” “Death at the Wukang Mansion,” In 1966, during the Cultural Revolution, an accomplished ballerina is transferred to Shanghai, and assigned to an apartment building where residents often leave in coffins.
“Cooking for Madame Chiang,” In 1946 Beijing, 2 cooks working for Madame Chiang Kai-shek prepare a foreign dish she craves, which becomes a political weapon and leads to their tragic end.
“The Invisible Window,” In 2016, 3 women reunite in a Paris cathedral once each year after being exiled from China following the 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre.
“The White Piano,” (1976-2016) A young, Julliard-trained pianist moves from New York City to Paris and is assaulted when a mysterious piano arrives from Singapore.
“Dear Chrysanthemums,” (1946-2006) A famous guzheng (Chinese plucked zither) musician’s fortunes rise and fall during Mao Zedong’s reign.
Sze-Lorrain writes of women facing impossible odds in the middle of historical and cultural upheaval. She adds cultural and racial diversity into her stories of the diaspora, combining the broad political (oppression, violence, displacement, death) and the intimate personal (dance, music, writing, cooking). Her voice is beautifully lyrical, but also fearless and heartbreaking as she blends their stories of trauma and resilience. Its an immersive experience, and it’s 4 stars from me🌵📚💁🏼♀️ Thank you to Scribner and Fiona Sze-Lorrain for this early copy. Publishes 5/2/2023.
July 5, 2023
At first I couldn’t see how it all was going to connect but slowly, as I made my way through the book the pieces began to come together. The interconnections were made by means of mentioning key/main characters from a one story as an important person to another story’s key/main character.
Back to Beijing tugged at my a little as you could see the character’s deterioration throughout the chapter.
I found myself shocked by the ending of the first chapter, Death at the Wukang Mansion.
I find the way all of these stories/chapters were interconnected to be very interesting and I had moments of clarity and some satisfaction/contentment with the conclusion the mentions brought about.
This book wasn’t my usual genre but I’m really glad that I decided to pick it up and read it, this book was definitely worth reading. It’s not a long read, but at times it was a bit confusing, but noting to the point of hindering my understanding of the stories. It was interesting seeing how almost all of the stories revolves around the lives of people during, before, and after the Cultural Revolution. I’m content with how this book ended and I feel as though it concluded in a satisfying way. I
Back to Beijing tugged at my a little as you could see the character’s deterioration throughout the chapter.
I found myself shocked by the ending of the first chapter, Death at the Wukang Mansion.
I find the way all of these stories/chapters were interconnected to be very interesting and I had moments of clarity and some satisfaction/contentment with the conclusion the mentions brought about.
This book wasn’t my usual genre but I’m really glad that I decided to pick it up and read it, this book was definitely worth reading. It’s not a long read, but at times it was a bit confusing, but noting to the point of hindering my understanding of the stories. It was interesting seeing how almost all of the stories revolves around the lives of people during, before, and after the Cultural Revolution. I’m content with how this book ended and I feel as though it concluded in a satisfying way. I
April 30, 2023
Don’t let the thinness of this little book fool you — Fiona Sze-Lorrain’s debut novel is full of lush poetic writing. But the pretty prose doesn’t shy away from the dark, disturbing, and important themes of female violence, political upheaval, and trauma that our poet-novelist brings to the fore.
Each story takes place in a year that ends with 6 (between 1946-2016) in China, Singapore, the US, or France. Halfway through the novel it is noted that these are special “round years” and that six is a divine number. As the novel progresses, links between the Chinese female characters across multiple generations and countries start to develop.
I overall thought that this was a wonderfully written and unique collection of stories pieced together to form an interesting interconnected novel. Having known nothing about Sze-Lorrain before, I am enchanted by her beautiful writing and excited to check out her poetry collections!
Dear Chrysanthemums will be published this week on May 2, 2023.
Each story takes place in a year that ends with 6 (between 1946-2016) in China, Singapore, the US, or France. Halfway through the novel it is noted that these are special “round years” and that six is a divine number. As the novel progresses, links between the Chinese female characters across multiple generations and countries start to develop.
I overall thought that this was a wonderfully written and unique collection of stories pieced together to form an interesting interconnected novel. Having known nothing about Sze-Lorrain before, I am enchanted by her beautiful writing and excited to check out her poetry collections!
Dear Chrysanthemums will be published this week on May 2, 2023.
March 3, 2023
"I try not to be skeptical from the outset, but honestly: these young westerners don't know a damn thing about Zhao Ziyang or Hu Yaobang, not even Deng Xiaoping, let alone the reform policies and economic plans, the Chinese people's disenchantment...all the skepticism, the disillusionment that led to June fourth."
You're right! I literally don't! So...maybe I don't know enough about the history of the Tiananmen Square protests and massacre to truly understand and appreciate this book. It was obviously not the author's intention to explain, but rather to show stories from women before, during and after that era, but it left me feeling lost. I was unable to fully appreciate the stories without the context.
On top of that, I felt like the stories were lazily connected, just a randomly thrown in "Oh, my cousin married so-and-so," who just so happened to be the subject of a story 30 pages ago. Idk. Just wasn't my thing.
May 31, 2023
These interlocking stories were just fantastic. Linked thematically through the years with the number 6 as well as through various characters that may be mentioned unexpectedly, these stories will give better understanding through tumultuous times in China's near history. While there is trauma, grief and generational PTSD, there is still hope. For readers of Ye Chun, Omolola Ijeoma Ogunyemi, and May-Lee Chai.
I received an arc of the book from the publisher but all opinions are my own.
ETA: June 2023 staff pick
I received an arc of the book from the publisher but all opinions are my own.
ETA: June 2023 staff pick
June 20, 2023
This is a series of interconnected stories. Sometimes they just seem to be about the unfairness of life but sometimes we see how love and friendship and our histories connect us. The stories take place between 1946 and and 2016 - a 70 year period and are about Asian women dealing with trauma in their past, and being an exile.
May 10, 2023
A stunning debut.
May 29, 2023
On my re-read list
May 27, 2023
In the beginning, or at least the chronological beginning of this “novel in stories”, there are two women in a third woman’s kitchen. That story, “Cooking for Madame Chiang, 1946” manages to both tell a complete story AND weave together all the threads that permeate the entire work in a way that seems to achieve more depth and more interconnectivity the more I think about it.
The two women in that kitchen, Little Green and Chang’er, are cooking for Madame Chiang Kai-Shek in 1946 after the end of the Second Sino-Japanese War, known in the West as World War II and just prior to the Chinese Communist Revolution.
All the stories in this collected novel relate back to those three women and what they represent, sometimes figuratively, often literally as many of the stories are centered around Chang’er’s descendants.
So this is a collection of stories of women’s perspectives on 20th century China, as seen through the eyes of Chang’er and her daughters and granddaughters who became part of the Chinese Diaspora in Singapore, while Little Green’s story is hers alone as her service to the Westernized Madame Chiang made her a target of the Revolution.
Some of the stories’ connections to Chang’er and Little Green are not obvious at first (“Death at the Wukang Mansion, 1966” is one such story) and are only revealed as the reader follows the course of the braided novel back and forth through time.
It is also symbolic that all of these stories take place in years that end in the number six, from the 1946 of “Cooking for Madame Chiang” to the 2016 of “The Invisible Window”. The number six in Chinese divination signifies a “smooth life”, something that none of the women in these interconnected stories manages to achieve.
But in their less than smooth lives we get glimpses of the choppy seas that each of them navigated, whether they remained in China or fled to far-distant shores, and how the experiences that led or followed them impacted the rest of their lives – and their century.
Escape Rating B+: I left this collection feeling both enchanted and teased. Each story is a bit of a treasure hunt and a chef’s kiss wrapped into one. The treasure is figuring out how each woman connects to the others. The chef’s kiss is in the way that each story is complete in itself, beautifully told, but still leaves the reader wishing for more – not necessarily more of that story in particular, but more of the history and background in general. The way the stories are each told make it clear that there are vast depths to be explored that this collection can only hint at.
I was also struck by the way that Dear Chrysanthemums manages to achieve the result that last week’s Daughters of Muscadine fell short of. Both are attempts to tell a kind of braided, linked story through a collection of stories, but Daughters missed that connectedness where Dear Chrysanthemums achieved it in every story through that treasure hunt of hints and references and casting back on long lives lived after tragedy and loss.
While there were a couple of stories that either didn’t work for me at the initial read (“Death at the Wukang Mansion”) or didn’t work at all (“The White Piano”), for the most part this collection told fascinating stories of women’s lives that hinted at so much to explore beneath the surface. I was initially a bit reluctant (last week’s reads were really frustrating) but I’m happy I picked up this gem after all.
Originally published at Reading Reality
The two women in that kitchen, Little Green and Chang’er, are cooking for Madame Chiang Kai-Shek in 1946 after the end of the Second Sino-Japanese War, known in the West as World War II and just prior to the Chinese Communist Revolution.
All the stories in this collected novel relate back to those three women and what they represent, sometimes figuratively, often literally as many of the stories are centered around Chang’er’s descendants.
So this is a collection of stories of women’s perspectives on 20th century China, as seen through the eyes of Chang’er and her daughters and granddaughters who became part of the Chinese Diaspora in Singapore, while Little Green’s story is hers alone as her service to the Westernized Madame Chiang made her a target of the Revolution.
Some of the stories’ connections to Chang’er and Little Green are not obvious at first (“Death at the Wukang Mansion, 1966” is one such story) and are only revealed as the reader follows the course of the braided novel back and forth through time.
It is also symbolic that all of these stories take place in years that end in the number six, from the 1946 of “Cooking for Madame Chiang” to the 2016 of “The Invisible Window”. The number six in Chinese divination signifies a “smooth life”, something that none of the women in these interconnected stories manages to achieve.
But in their less than smooth lives we get glimpses of the choppy seas that each of them navigated, whether they remained in China or fled to far-distant shores, and how the experiences that led or followed them impacted the rest of their lives – and their century.
Escape Rating B+: I left this collection feeling both enchanted and teased. Each story is a bit of a treasure hunt and a chef’s kiss wrapped into one. The treasure is figuring out how each woman connects to the others. The chef’s kiss is in the way that each story is complete in itself, beautifully told, but still leaves the reader wishing for more – not necessarily more of that story in particular, but more of the history and background in general. The way the stories are each told make it clear that there are vast depths to be explored that this collection can only hint at.
I was also struck by the way that Dear Chrysanthemums manages to achieve the result that last week’s Daughters of Muscadine fell short of. Both are attempts to tell a kind of braided, linked story through a collection of stories, but Daughters missed that connectedness where Dear Chrysanthemums achieved it in every story through that treasure hunt of hints and references and casting back on long lives lived after tragedy and loss.
While there were a couple of stories that either didn’t work for me at the initial read (“Death at the Wukang Mansion”) or didn’t work at all (“The White Piano”), for the most part this collection told fascinating stories of women’s lives that hinted at so much to explore beneath the surface. I was initially a bit reluctant (last week’s reads were really frustrating) but I’m happy I picked up this gem after all.
Originally published at Reading Reality
June 17, 2023
A literary dream, that’s what this novel segmented into stories, felt like. Dear Chrysanthemums floats. There is something reminiscent in this novel of Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell or Virginia Woolf’s Orlando, a kind of immortal quality that flows one life into another, connects what appear to be disparate loci — combined with a historicity that reminds me of Jung Chang’s seminal, biographical, non fiction work, Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China about Chang’s mother and grandmother, women who lived and survived China’s imperial demise, revolution, Japanese occupation, and Communist Cultural Revolution.
The stories in this novel, seemingly unconnected at first, reveal an intimate connection in the end: the women who feature in them are ordinary women, servants, daughters, mothers. They are separated by time and space, but their desires and ambitions, fueled by the need to become individuals in their own right, fuse them together. There is tension between the women of each story, but there is also connection.
The novel crosses continents, spanning the globe from China to France, and across time. Each generation of woman encounters a different kind of struggle, but a struggle all the same, and the story of each them reveals a common desire to realize who they are and what they want from life and from the circumstances of their lives.
History plays a role here, shaping where the women begin and where they end, the trajectories of their journeys. Colonialism, conflict, and war shape their migrations, that is, their physical and metaphysical, subjective journeys towards themselves. The women in these stories are bound by history inasmuch as they are bound to each other and to their own individual desires.
For those who love historical fiction, literary layers to excavate, and strong and flawed female characters, this is the novel for you.
The stories in this novel, seemingly unconnected at first, reveal an intimate connection in the end: the women who feature in them are ordinary women, servants, daughters, mothers. They are separated by time and space, but their desires and ambitions, fueled by the need to become individuals in their own right, fuse them together. There is tension between the women of each story, but there is also connection.
The novel crosses continents, spanning the globe from China to France, and across time. Each generation of woman encounters a different kind of struggle, but a struggle all the same, and the story of each them reveals a common desire to realize who they are and what they want from life and from the circumstances of their lives.
History plays a role here, shaping where the women begin and where they end, the trajectories of their journeys. Colonialism, conflict, and war shape their migrations, that is, their physical and metaphysical, subjective journeys towards themselves. The women in these stories are bound by history inasmuch as they are bound to each other and to their own individual desires.
For those who love historical fiction, literary layers to excavate, and strong and flawed female characters, this is the novel for you.
May 1, 2024
For maximum pleasure I recommend reading Dear Chrysanthemums in a single sitting. Coming in at 161 pages this collection of linked stories could quite easily be read in a single, long, lazy sitting. Particularly on a summer's day. You'll be transformed into a fly, safely deposited on a totalitarian wall and your curiosity fully engaged. That's how I intend to re-read it.
In a country where state organised thought reform and "double happiness" cigarettes are available, these stories bring insights that Eric Blair might have brought us had he lived to witness the Chinese cultural revolution and the events of Tianamen Square. Told through the experiences of ordinary citizens, Dear Chrysanthemums is at times creepy, and a little shocking. Its collection of related and pragmatic characters will frequently charm you including (but not only) the presence and wisdom of a cigar smoking mother.
Written in the kind of prose you'd expect from a poet and musician, this short novel in stories is an exquisite window into a place and moment.
In a country where state organised thought reform and "double happiness" cigarettes are available, these stories bring insights that Eric Blair might have brought us had he lived to witness the Chinese cultural revolution and the events of Tianamen Square. Told through the experiences of ordinary citizens, Dear Chrysanthemums is at times creepy, and a little shocking. Its collection of related and pragmatic characters will frequently charm you including (but not only) the presence and wisdom of a cigar smoking mother.
Written in the kind of prose you'd expect from a poet and musician, this short novel in stories is an exquisite window into a place and moment.
June 19, 2025
I love books that are made of of interconnected stories, it is always interesting to see how they come together. I struggled with this one a bit, I may have been too tired. I think the book requires a rudimentary knowledge of Chinese history, which, sadly, I am currently lacking. A refresher history lesson before diving into this book would have been helpful. Overall, I did enjoy it, the book gripped me from the opening tale. I wanted to know how this character got here, and why. Even though it is a short book it took me way longer to finish it than anticipated. I struggled a little with identifying the characters and who was speaking at what point, which in turn made it difficult for me to link the stories together. Again, I think I was just a bit too tired for such a beautiful and complex rich story. It was very beuatifully written though, and perhaps worth a second read at some point in the future.
October 26, 2023
really glad i stumbled upon this in the library! i love how the trajectory of chinese history plays out out through the stories of such strong female characters with ferocious tenacity in spite of all the gruelling circumstances they find themselves in 🥹🥹 this book beautifully portrays how we’re all walking vessels of history, that we are bound to those before us with some semblance of generations long before still existing in our souls. one thing that struck me was its brief discussion on how the study of history tend to isolate humanity from the undisputed facts we learn, how we tend not to forget a fundamental aspect of history - empathy, and as someone who studies history for school, this can be so common so i really appreciate the role of historical fiction that leaves such an acute and raw reminder of the past 🥹
December 18, 2023
as with all short story anthologies, I preferred some sections more than others. I found it hard to get into some of the stories bc you were kind of thrown into the plot without knowing who the characters were, which made it harder to follow and get invested in (probably not helped by the fact i was listening to the audiobook, I found it difficult at parts to distinguish the different narrative voices), but I understand that is by the by with anthology stories. Still not too sure about how the themes were explored, felt like some threads were put down and not picked up again until wayyy later in the book, by which point I kind of forgot they were brought up in the first place. But oooohhh I lovedddd the story from the perspective of the woman with Parkinson's, it was so beautifully written I could've cried. So yeah, overall a solid 3 star I think
May 27, 2023
Spanning multiple characters, locations, and time periods, I found Sze-Lorrain's storytelling hard to follow. As a huge fan of stories encompassing generations of a single family, I just couldn't and didn't vibe with this one. The fragmented nature of the storytelling left me feeling disconnected and I wasn't able to fully engage with the characters and their individual journeys.
That said, for those who appreciate experimental and unconventional storytelling, Dear Chrysanthemums presents an interesting literary experiment. I might give it another go in a few years.
That said, for those who appreciate experimental and unconventional storytelling, Dear Chrysanthemums presents an interesting literary experiment. I might give it another go in a few years.
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