Peony

I read The Big Wave by Pearl S. Buck when I was in my twenties. After completion I swore never to read another of her books; it was just too crushingly sad. I recognized what a wonderful writer she was and the book did make me ponder many things, but crying while reading wasn't on the menu...especially in my twenties. :-)

My mom loves Pearl Buck and recently gave me a book she had just finished by said author, Peony. Here's the thing about my mom: she likes me to like her stuff. I guess to some extent we all enjoy that...even me. It's not a requirement or expectation, nor am I sad if someone doesn't like something I love, but it's nice when they do. So back to my mom. She spent a lot of time over the years listening to me ramble on about ideas, topics, literature, music, clothes, etcetera ad naseum, probably most of which she didn't care about except for the fact that her daughter did. Plus I am one of three offspring, and she has grandkids. With all of that giving on her part, I figure I can watch/read most of what she suggests, and usually I do enjoy it.

Except Pearl Buck. But, I figured at this point in my life an angsy book wouldn't be so bad. And, if after a chapter I hated it I would quit. Well. The first paragraph had me hooked. The setting is China 200 years ago, the main character is a bondsmaid named Peony, "less than a daughter, more than a servant." You know from the very beginning what is going to happen in an overarching sense...she's going to fall in love with the son of her master. You also know it's gonna be sad. And it was, although there are incandescent moments of joy. Regardless, there are so many things so enjoy about Buck's writing...the gorgeous descriptions, historical learning (I never knew there were Jewish settlers in China), the subtle way she communicates through delicate character conversations, and the challenges she presents to her readers. She never preaches, in fact, I'm not sure what her beliefs are by her books, but she lays out many life philosophies and by doing so examines the pros and cons of each.

When I finished the last paragraph of Peony I teared up and threw down the book with a hearty %*&^%$!!! Never AGAIN, I yelled, will I read ANYTHING by BUCK!!! I was in a funk all day. But the next day, and the day after, the sadness ebbed and the fullness of what that book meant flooded in. Is life inherently sad or happy? What are the consequences of accepting one or the other? Is assimilation good or bad...or neither? Is thinking yourself special helpful or dangerous? How about all or nothing thinking? Advantages? Disadvantages? I could go on and on.

Pearl Buck never answers these questions, but she invites her reader to. Will I read another book of hers? Probably. But not for awhile.