100 books like Becoming Madame Mao

Write about Abraham Lincoln’s intimate life? I wouldn’t dare, but I’m thrilled Louis Bayard did. Courting Mr. Lincoln catches America’s icon at his pivot from aw-shucks buffoon to fast-track politician. Joshua Speed, Lincoln’s roommate who’s in love with him, applies social veneer, teaching him to dress and dance, and where to rest those spidery arms during dinner. The friends’ touching love never crosses into sexual on the page. Yet, intimacy flows through Bayard’s extraordinary writing. We, too, inhabit Lincoln’s long torso, flailing elbows, and head crammed in a too-small top hat. Alas, a society matron pushes Lincoln “toward destiny,” requiring marriage with Mary Todd. Melancholy Lincoln, snared in grasping love, moves on to save our nation. Because of this book, I’ll always consider Abraham Lincoln a beautiful man.

May I suggest historical fiction fans of the English Tudors try the French royalty for a change? For me, Tudor intrigue pales in comparison to France’s 16th-century queen and regent, Catherine de Medici. This lush, biographical novel from C.W. Gortner follows Catherine from traumatic childhood to poignant death, revealing the necessity behind her ruthlessness. Since the era’s religious conflicts echo today’s cultural divides, the history feels surprisingly fresh. I can’t help thinking that this strong woman who stopped at nothing to protect France, her children, and her power would be more admired if she had been a man. 

We all know the Marquis de Lafayette, right? To my surprise, I didn’t know his first name or his wife’s. (Gilbert and Adrienne.) The historical novel The Women of Chateau Lafayette fills in the rest of the blanks. It starts with those Lafayettes, then weaves in women who protect Lafayette’s castle during World War I and II. While I enjoyed all three plots, the intimate portrayal of the famous Marquis fascinated me the most. I loved his youthful clumsiness, cringed at his marital infidelities, and grumbled at his hesitancy to take power when the French needed him. So, read The Women of Chateau Lafayette for the strong women’s roles, but, for me, Gilbert the Marquis was the star.

This memoir reads like historical fiction and influenced my perspective on Napoleon. As its title proclaims, it’s not so much about the writer, Betsy Balcombe, but about Napoleon himself. Upon arrival on St. Helena, the British billeted the exiled, depressed emperor on her father’s estate. Fourteen-year-old Betsy, who spoke French, treated him like a favorite uncle, teasing and playing tricks on him. Unlike other contemporaneous memoirs I’ve read, Betsy’s doesn’t demonize or glorify Napoleon. Rather, her recollections provide the most extensive, reliable account of the real Napoleon, a lonely human hiding behind the vestiges of power. Look for the version with the excellent introduction by J. David Markham who puts the history in context.

The godmother – the empress dowager, if you will – of all naughty Chinese authoresses is the inimitable Anchee Min. Her debut memoir, Red Azalea, was published half-a-decade before Shanghai Baby, and takes place half-a-century prior, at the outset of the Cultural Revolution. The first half of her story is set in a countryside labor camp, where teenaged Min and another young woman carry out a secret affair, with regrettable consequences. The second half of Min’s memoir finds her returning to her native Shanghai, now as the star of a movie production about Madam Mao, while carrying out yet another forbidden relationship, with one of Mao’s advisers. Min published seven subsequent books, all to critical acclaim, but Red Azalea is her at her most fearless.

I could have chosen any of Pearl S Buck’s books, as they are all beautifully written. But this one was the first one I read and what I remember most vividly is the tiny details of daily life, in a rags-to-riches story of a peasant man in China. One of the journey’s most emotional changes comes when he gets a concubine, and I liked reading about a concubine in a fairly ordinary household (rather than the usual imperial/upper-class settings) and the ripples it makes in family life. 

Absorbed by Chinese culture while a grad student in Hong Kong, Susan Blumberg-Kason is charmed into marriage with Cai, a PhD student of Taoist music from the Hubei Province backwater. Marital discord arises when the openhearted Midwesterner realizes her function as a wife is to produce a son, turn it over to his (not her) parents for upbringing, and get out of the way so the husband can carry on with his philandering and porn watching. But even as he molts his intellectual shell and his narcissistic monster emerges, Cai can also be sympathetically understood as a product of his culture. Intercultural conflict is what makes this fairy tale so readable and engrossing, with its timeless theme of the loving sweetheart enthralled and entrapped in her dark prince's perverted castle. What moved me most was Blumberg-Kason’s honesty in laying everything bare, at the risk of baring her own flaws.

When Chairman Mao initiated the Cultural Revolution in China, Margaret Zhao and her family became enemies of the state. This memoir is full of hope, humor, and love despite the horrific situation of this young girl attempting to survive while many were doing everything to destroy her and her family.

I’m fascinated by how this true story describes the evils of communism in contrast with the opportunities provided by Western Civilization and capitalism. I also find it encouraging that someone could go through such terrible situations, always fearing for the life of herself and her family, and still hold so much optimism that she would one day find her way to America and freedom.

Numerous studies have confirmed that China’s Great Famine was man-made, its architect Mao Zedong. Yet, many of those affected do not blame Mao for what happened to them.

Still, in today’s China, many, including those affected by the catastrophe, worship Mao. The presence of such a ludicrous act is attributed to the communist regime’s mythicizing Mao and meantime censoring any media exposing Mao’s immense cruelties.

This book by Chen helps uncover and make explicit the testimonies of those involved in the human catastrophe. The book also exposes testimonies concerning political violence before and after the famine, which is very beneficial for one to ponder over why political violence and man-made tragedies recur in contemporary China and whether China by itself is capable of ensuring similar tragedies never again occur.

I’ve always turned to historical fiction to deepen my understanding of an era and help spark my imagination for class prep.

This book, set in late nineteenth-century China, helped me better contextualize the challenges confronting Chinese women at that time—and how they overcame, or at least endured them. I recently had the privilege of hearing Lisa See speak on her research and writing—she was quite engaging and shared much about her process.

She’s a passionate, dedicated, and disciplined scholar. This shines through in all her work, especially this bittersweet tale of friendship, love, and heartbreak.