This is post 4 / 6 of the Shadowing WPF 2024 series.

Cover of River East, River West by Aube Rey Lescure. Geometric buildings in yellow-orange gradients.

White Devils and Pink Maos

Aube Rey Lescure brings us a complex, fascinating novel in River East, River West, named after the districts either side of Shanghai’s Huangpu river: historic, colonial Puxi and futuristic Pudong. Lescure has experience of a culturally mixed background as she is of French and Chinese heritage, and lives in America. As a reader who lived in Hong Kong as a child and attended international school, with a South African mother and British father, I identified with many elements of this novel. 

We meet mother Sloan and daughter Alva at Sloan’s wedding, which Alva sees as a betrayal of the ‘partners’ relationship Sloan has insisted on so far, a concept inspired by feminist American film ‘Thelma and Louise’, in which one woman saves her friend from rape and they turn their backs on conventional life, choosing suicide over submission. The flaws in this choice of cultural touchstone for a mother-daughter relationship, especially in the context of Sloan’s alcoholism, set the scene for Alva’s teenage rebellion. 

The characters are surprising, well-rounded, moving and easy to root for, although many are hard to like. Lescure explores how a life is shaped by both the stories we tell ourselves and the stories imposed upon us. Her characters engage in dishonesty, betrayal and corruption, from infidelity to propaganda, from hair dye and selling bootleg DVDs to falsifying records. The timeline and alternating viewpoints are handled with dexterity, allowing the reader to dread certain outcomes while the years between the opening and close of the action are gradually jigsawed together and coloured in.

Mental health is a major preoccupation of the novel. Two of the characters suffer from alcoholism. Suicide is referred to again and again in the novel, referring to real life pop icon Leslie Cheung as well as characters within the narrative. ‘The Chinese invented the alienation effect’ says the mysterious DVD man, the sage of the tale, because Brecht wrote about it after watching Beijing Opera ‘Farewell My Concubine’, an intertextual counterpoint to ‘Thelma and Louise’. 

Although the China depicted does seem an alienating and emotionally cold place to be, the experience for the reader is not. The basic emotional needs of the characters pulse beneath the surface as they navigate the changing world, choosing between expediency and morality. The construction of an idea of self is central to this novel, as the protagonists adopt new names, styles and behaviours for themselves.

The settings are vivid and naturalistic, with a dystopian edge creating a powerful sense of a decadent bubble about to burst. Attitudes across divides of Eastern and Western ethnicity, rural and urban origin, degrees of freedom, education and wealth, capitalist and communist political and cultural beliefs affect every element of life, offering opportunity and advantage to some, thwarted ambition, resentment and limitation to others.

In terms of style, this is one of my favourites so far from the shortlist. The variety of registers is enhanced by the use of Chinese poetry and proverbs, and such colloquialisms and terminology as laowei, mixed-blood, taitais, pink Maos, expats and devils. The dual timelines starting in 2007 and 1985 are matched by the dual-perspective, alternating between Lu Fang and his stepdaughter Alva. This leaves space for prediction, tension, surprise and revelation.

It’s hard to believe this sophisticated novel is a debut. It achieves universality while conjuring a clear vision of China across several decades, yet feels intimate and emotionally connected. I’m keen to read a sequel, so I hope she’s writing one. Could it win the Bessie? I really think it could. For me, it’s level favourite with the more visceral ‘Soldier Sailor’ for now.