Under the Hawthorn Tree

Under the Hawthorn Tree by Ai Mi
Under the Hawthorn Tree, by Ai Mi, started off with promise. A young Chinese girl named Jingqui, naive but smart, is sent off into the villages to document life in order to write more accurate history textbooks. Set in China in the 1970's the book is heavily rooted in the cultural revolution. Interest is peaked. A tale is told of a hawthorn tree with flowers dyed red from the blood of soldiers. The backdrop is set with an old folktale of a maiden torn between two loves. I wasn't 100% which way the story would go, but I expected some sort of excitement, really.

The downfall of Under the Hawthorn tree, though, was that it really wasn't all that gripping. Little happens in terms of drama and plot, and though there are moments of great family loyalty, and the love interest, Old Third, is introduced, things move far too slowly for too long to really keep the reader interested. Furthermore, the naive Jingqiu is neither sweetly innocent, nor undergoes a  knowledge revelation, as would warrant character development. Instead, she continually misinterprets signs and things people tell her. This becomes frustrating as she neither seeks to clarify, nor do other characters pick up on her extreme ignorance. While naivety is not a bad quality for a main character, it became increasingly frustrating in this instance as very simple misunderstandings lead to unrealistic conclusions. The novel itself plays on this by seeming to present information in a cryptic way, making the reader assume one thing when the opposite may be true. This tact could class as mystery, but rather comes across as a frustrating repetition of drawn out scenes and little-explained feelings. Is she being coy, or simply unaware of other's affections? Does Old Third lie to her?

What promised itself to be a Romeo and Juliet style romance, fraught with uncertainties and trials, became instead a tale about the mundane life of a young Chinese girl. Though appearances were made by Old Third, and there were glimpses of a budding romance, it came too little too late and Jingqiu's walls came down too unexpectedly for me to invest myself in the romance as much as I would have liked. Jingqiu simply wasn't someone I could connect with. Though her connection with Old Third eventually becomes a sweet one, and there are certainly moments of grand romance, the plodding nature of the novel throughout took away from these moments, and dulled the shine that could have been a sweet young love. The redeeming character was Old Third himself, resolute and kind, but as the story did not focus on him and rather Jingqui, there were certainly narrative lulls.

While the setting, China during the cultural revolution, was both interesting and less common, it provided both interest and problem to those less familiar with the time. Having studied modern Chinese History, there were elements that struck me, but the oddities present in this time did provide some-what of a struggle in terms of ease of reading. There were moments that wording and phrases seemed out of place for the anti-liberal society, though this may be due to translation.

Overall, the story provides a good account of life in China in the 1970's, and the struggles a young girl has to face in the upside down social structure facing the cultural revolution, but in terms of great romantic stories, I found the novel to have only scratched the surface of what could have been a very moving, deep story of love.

Everything Remains Dark

Browse Tumblr for more than 30 seconds, and I'll beat you'll come across some reference to Jonathan Safran Foer - most likely, a non-creative posting of cover photos of Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close scrawled in bright vibrant letters. See cover here And, I must admit, the poppy type-art simplicity, was a good seller for me. While both novels continue to circle the Literary cult cultures with quotes and trendy 'likes' I'd be lying if I said I actually knew much of anything about this novel aside from the time I was ready to watch anything Elijah Wood was in and came across his smiling sunflower-glassed visage at Blockbuster. I never did watch the movie though, so it was blindly that I dove into the pages of Everything Is Illuminated this September with no frame of reference for plot, style or literary context.
Long story short - I had no idea what the book was really about, except that Lit-hips loved it.

Taking place in the Ukraine - which might explain the bright blue and yellow, at any rate, the novel follows two or three timelines that weave their way (occasionally connecting) through the rural Ukrainian villages. The first, most 'present-day' story is that of Sasha, a small town Ukrainian young man longing for America, and a life bigger than that which he leads. Manufacturing tales and encounters that boost his image, he rattles off depictions of his daily grand life with poignant humour and charmingly broken english. Capturing that fluent but not North American style of speaking and writing, Safran immediately gains the readers trust through the voice of Sasha, and establishes a relationship where the reader is firmly on his side, and rooting for his success and happiness.

Shortly into this we meet Jonathan Safran Foer the character - an American travelling through the Ukraine in search of one woman from an old photograph, and a connection to his past: the one who saved his father's life during the second world war.

And that's about where my comprehensive overview ends.

Weaving in and out of this present day story - which itself is told partly in the moment, and in part through recounting letters from Sasha to Jonathan after the fact - are tales of the past. The relatives Jonathan is seeking to gain knowledge of have their own chance to tell a story - a stumbling and halting history of their village, and the individuals and encounters which occurred there.

Though in theory the reader is able to keep histories separate, the manner in which each is introduced and revealed leaves much to the imagination, and tends toward simple confusion. I often found myself trying to decipher who was who and related in what way, what time period/frame of the novel I was in, and just what the heck was actually going on.

Because of this, the novel quickly became muddled, confusing, and frustrating. Though there were certainly moments where the reader could sympathize with the characters of the novel, the disconnect of the stories and the narrative style prevented continuity or emotional attachment at the level which the story needed. Without it, the weight of character's emotional baggage, war trauma, and inner turmoils fall flat, missing the reader all together on their downward spiral into muddled reality and confused plot lines.

Rather as though bits an pieces of the novel were left out, revelations and conversations would occur in the novel without explanation or backstory to provide either context or relevancy. As such, I often found myself frustrated with entire sections of the novel, unable to connect to one character or another, or piece together the significance of one story in relation to another.

While I could grasp at the thought that the miss-mash of stories is a commentary or depiction of the way in which history circles, or memories blur in the minds of both individuals and nations - pulling this all together in the collective frame of reference of Jewish life in the Second World War - I'd have to say that's the type of stretch more commonly found in the pages of a second year English Major's dashed together analytic essay. It's time to face the music. Parts of the novel held merit, but as a collective book, it fell short.

I'm not saying each and every aspect needs to be explained in full detail, or that backstories need be outlined for every anecdote, but when the reader is left with an overwhelming feeling of 'so what' or, 'how does this relate to anything again?' you know that something's missing. Finishing the novel with an overwhelming sense of frustration, I have to admit I was disappointed. Sure, Safran illuminates some honest, blunt truths here and there, but generally speaking, I found the very title of the novel a wild irony (the one thing I can say just may have been deliberate) and the resounding conclusion lingering darkness.
And I'm not really sure what to do in the dark.