171. "The Skull Mantra" by Elliot Pattison

I had trouble getting through Elliot Pattison's The Skull Mantra, not because of any flaw with the book itself--it's well written, vividly depicts the harsh beauty of Tibet, and provides a sensitive, valuable introduction to the region's traditional culture and religion--but because of the bleakness of life in the Chinese gulags.

Shan, the main character, is a former police detective sentenced to an indefinite period of labor in Tibet. One of the few Chinese prisoners in a brigade of Tibetans, he comes to embrace the teachings and philosophy of the brigade's abbot. His loyalty becomes a tool against him, however, when his work crew discovers a headless body buried under some rocks. The colonel in charge of the county's military defenses enlists Shan to investigate the murder, even as the rival Department of Public Safety conducts its own investigation. He tells Shan that any attempt to escape or failure to solve the crime will result in mass executions in his brigade. Mysterious encounters with rebels and monks, visits to remote monasteries, and the discovery of a secret colony hewn out of the cliffs serve as valuable clues to a crime that extends far beyond what Shan could have imagined.

In the end, the book has what my college friend Becca called a "redemptive" ending, and despite my struggles with the harshness of the Chinese treatment of Tibet, I plan to read the next installment in the series.

168. "Snow Flower and the Secret Fan" by Lisa See

In Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, Lisa See chronicles the life of Lily, a Chinese girl whose station is elevated by her beautiful face, her tiny bound feet, and her special friendship with Snow Flower, a girl from a better family. After Lily's arranged marriage to an aristocratic young man, she learns a secret about Snow Flower that devastates her and threatens their friendship. 

The account of foot-binding is difficult to read, and it's even more difficult to imagine generations of women enduring this practice. Although I knew it was extremely painful and crippling, I didn't realize the process could be fatal. The narration vividly depicts this, as well as the agony of learning to walk on bound feet and the continuing challenges to women's safety posed by the inability to move without pain. For example, when rebels invade, Lily joins a group of refugees fleeing to the mountains. As she toddles up a precipitous, rocky trail on her "beautifully" mutilated feet, she watches other women, unable to balance with their bound feet, lose their footing and plunge to their deaths.

In some ways this is a bleak novel; in others, it's what my college friend Becca used to call "redemptive."

34. "A Loyal Character Dancer" by Qiu Xiaolong

**Some spoilers follow.**

In A Loyal Character Dancer, Chief Inspector Chen Cao tackles a case with international implications. The title character, Wen Liping, has gone missing just as an attractive U.S. Marshal arrives in China to escort her to the United States. Wen's husband, Feng, was caught as an illegal immigrant in the U.S. and has agreed to testify against the human trafficker who organized his travel, but only if his wife is there by the time of the trial.

Chen is assigned to the marshal, Catherine Rohn, with instructions to entertain her, keep her safe, and investigate the case only as a secondary concern. He sends his colleague, Detective Yu, to the town where Wen and Feng lived but pursues his own inquiries in Shanghai. The investigation exposes him to political corruption, triad members, and suspicions about whether some of his own superiors have gang ties.

Wen emerges as a tragic character, the victim of international politics and a sense of justice that sacrifices one person's happiness to potentially save other lives. A photo of Wen as a teenager captures her in the loyal character dance, the only dance permitted by Chairman Mao--a beautiful, devoted Communist. She voluntarily traveled to the countryside for reeducation with the peasants, and within a year she was married to the much older Feng, with whom she soon had a child. Twenty years later, her son has died, she has no contact with her friends and family in Shanghai, and she continues to labor at a factory. As the investigation proceeds, Chen learns that Feng, who was head of the local Communist party, assigned the teenaged Wen an isolated room, which he was easily able to break into and rape her. After learning she was pregnant, he divorced his wife and married her. He continued to abuse her and blamed her when his political fortunes changed. After their son died, she again became pregnant. On learning she was expecting a boy, Feng decided to leave for the United States. His demand to the American authorities that his wife join him reflects no concern for her, but rather interest in the son she is carrying.

Complicating the investigation and the choice Wen must make is the interest various triad gangs have taken in the case. If she decides to remain in China--with the result that Feng refuses to testify--the police can't offer her protection against gangsters who are searching for her and want her dead. Chen himself struggles with the conflicts between his conscience, his sense of duty, and his political future.

Overall, this is a good but troubling read.

8. "Death of a Red Heroine" by Qiu Xiaolong

Qiu Xiaolong's debut mystery takes place in 1990, a year after the Tiananmen Square events and at a time when China was transitioning to a free-market economy. Death of a Red Heroine highlights tensions between the old guard of the Party, those who lost opportunities during Mao's Cultural Revolution, and those poised to benefit from the changes in China.

Chief Inspector Chen Cao has risen rapidly through the ranks of the Shanghai police department due to political connections. Yet he's also a man of integrity, dedicated to serving his people and doing his job to the best of his ability. The son of a professor, Chen wanted to pursue a PhD in literature, but the Communist regime had other plans for him. Finding professional success in a career he didn't choose, he struggles to balance his ongoing love of literature--he writes poetry and translates mysteries into Chinese--with his responsibilities as a police officer and Party member.

His first major case as a chief inspector, however, may prove to be his last. Chen and his assistant, the initially prickly but good-hearted Yu, investigate the body of a naked woman found in a canal. When they learn the woman's identity, the case rapidly assumes an unwelcome political dimension: She was Guan Hongying, known nationally as an ideal worker. Yet no one, not her colleagues or her neighbors, seemed to have a personal connection with her; apparently the role of national model worker subsumed her whole identity. Chen and Yu persist in their investigation, but when they find a suspect, the case becomes even more political; they learn that the proper, reserved Guan was having a secret affair with the son of a high Party official.

This novel isn't a whodunit, because the only suspect emerges quite early. Instead, it's a sometimes labyrinthine procedural fraught with backstabbing, political agendas, behind-the-scenes maneuverings, and complex interplays of power. Qiu, a professor of Chinese literature in the United States, intersperses classical Chinese poetry and references throughout the novel, always with explanations that aren't condescending but that offer valuable context and background for Western readers not familiar with Chinese traditions. (I say this as a Western reader not familiar with Chinese traditions; I appreciated the many poetic references, as well as the insights into Chinese culture, aesthetics, and values.)

Death of a Red Heroine does have its flaws; it becomes quite bogged down toward the end. Notwithstanding this, however, I thoroughly enjoyed it, not only for the cultural aspects but because I found myself missing the characters after I finished--always the mark of an excellent book. I look forward to reading more about Chen and Yu in other entries in this series.