Gish Jen’s latest novel, “Bad Bad Girl,” delves into the complexities of familial relationships against the backdrop of significant historical events. This work is at once a memoir and a fictional reimagining of Jen’s mother, Loo Shu-hsin. It provides readers with an up close look at how larger social, political, and economic unrest can deeply affect real people’s daily experiences. Jen’s narrative not only recounts her mother’s experiences but highlights the troubled relationship they shared, revealing the emotional scars left by a mother’s harsh words and actions.
Bad Bad Girl is an arresting, intricate tale of China’s often violent 20th century, as seen through the lens of Loo Shu-hsin, who was born into privilege in 1924 inside Shanghai’s International Settlement. Her banker father spared no expense to provide a flawless upbringing. Yet, even this privilege wasn’t enough to save her from the emotional wounds inflicted by her mother’s unending criticism. “Bad bad girl! You don’t know how to talk,” Loo Shu-hsin’s mother would often scold her, a sentiment that would echo throughout Loo Shu-hsin’s life.
In 1937, the story makes an exciting pivot as Japanese troops invade Shanghai. Little did Loo or her family realize this was just the beginning of a distressing ordeal. She courageously withstood the Japanese occupation until World War II ended. Throughout that time, she saw the devastation and pain that came along with it. The wake of the war opened up a whole new set of obstacles. The Communist Party took power, resulting in famine and other devastations. Her parents vanished, never to be seen again and her sister imprisoned in a forced labor camp.
Her mother’s tragic experience with calamity, misfortune and tragedy was exacerbated by her mother’s relationship with Loo Shu-hsin, who as a result left a disjointed imprint on her daughter. Gish Jen recalls her own childhood experience, where she faced physical punishment and emotional neglect, stating, “I want to have had a real mother, Mom.” This desire to connect with a nurturing maternal figure is indicative of Jen’s more intricate examination of why things went sour between them in the first place.
The play’s narrative structure is especially interesting and layered. Jen’s first intention was to write a memoir. Pretty soon she began adding fictional touches to flesh out her mother’s life story. This brilliant mix of reality and imagination is a true eye-opener to Loo Shu Hsin sensibility. More importantly, it digs into the emotional quagmire that lies beneath mother-daughter relations. Jen muses on their fraught connection, saying, “All my life, after all, I have wanted to know how our relationship went wrong – how I became her nemesis, her bête noire, her lightning rod, a scapegoat.”
From the moment readers open “Bad Bad Girl,” they’re on a path towards introspection. There, they’ll learn to see the ways in which large, sweeping historic events combine with and pattern individual narratives. The book became somewhat of a case study on how outside forces can distort personal agendas and relationships. It provides insight into Loo Shu-hsin’s struggles and into how those struggles shaped Gish Jen’s identity and creative voice.