Monday, August 9, 2010

Red Azalea


I chose Anchee Min’s autobiographical novel, Red Azalea, for my final selection. While reading the first chapter and Min’s biographical details, I realized that we both were born in 1957; our lives and ages parallel although vastly different.
While I cannot completely identify with Min, I can appreciate what her protagonist represents. Min struggles begin with her educated family who must accept Mao’s teachings and politics just to survive. They do not have the luxury of freedom, of choosing where to live or where to work, for the parents or the children. Part Two of the novel begins when Min is sent to work on the Red Fire Farm.
While on the farm, Min reaches the age of sexual maturity and falls in love with Yan. She speaks to the fact that there are no men around. Yan symbolizes not only the strong female role model, but also when Min moves away, Yan symbolizes Min’s adaptation to change while she remains the same. This aspect of the story intrigued me and reminded me of a scene from Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. When Steinbeck returns to the bar where he was a regular, Steinbeck has changed, but the people and the bar have not changed. The bar owner becomes embarrassed by Steinbeck’s presence because Steinbeck has grown, matured, and changed while he, as if stick in a time warp, has not.
The episode with Little Green was especially moving. She’s caught with her lover who is executed for “raping” her. She does nothing to stop the execution, which results in her eventual death. This happens, once again, from lack of choice and free will.
In Part Three, Min is chosen as a possible candidate to portray Madame Mao (Red Azalea). She doesn’t get the role, instead she must serve as a subordinate to the actress and studio. She becomes involved and has an affair with the unnamed Supervisor, a fairly effeminate man. I believe he symbolizes the face of male superiority in the last years of Mao’s regime.
The last section completes the story with Mao’s eventual death and the imprisonment of Madame Mao. Our heroine, like the author, escapes China for America.
I found Red Azalea both lyrical in its prose (not being a translated novel probably aided this endeavor), well paced, and intricately woven. Being autobiographical and written in the first person can leave a reader wanting more from a writer. Red Azalea definitely portrays the life of post WWII China from the perspective of an average young woman. I’m awfully thankful I didn’t have to live Min’s life.