Zhang's debut novel imaginatively illuminates an often-overlooked aspect of American history that resonates powerfully today, the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 and concurrent anti-Asian violence. As a child in China, Daiyu resents being named after Lin Daiyu, a tragic heroine; she promises herself that she will never be so weak. On her own at 12, she passes as a boy and finds work at a calligraphy school until she is kidnapped and trafficked to the U.S. Fleeing from a San Francisco brothel, she reinvents herself again as a young man named Jacob and finds relative security and friendship in a town in the mountains of Idaho. But as anti-Chinese sentiment spreads across the American West, Daiyu is forced not only to reckon with the legacy of her namesake but also to find a way to integrate all of her identities. Zhang's blend of history and magical realism will appeal to fans of Ta-Nehisi Coates' The Water Dancer (2019) as well as Amy Tan's The Valley of Amazement (2013), Maxine Hong Kingston's iconic memoir, The Woman Warrior (1976), and Tom Lin's -Carnegie Medal--winner The Thousand Crimes of Ming Tsu (2021).

After she's kidnapped and smuggled to California, a young Chinese woman tries to survive in late-19th-century America. As a child, Daiyu doesn't have much to worry about: Her life in a small village is quiet, full of her grandmother's beautiful garden and the rich tapestries her parents weave. Soon enough, though, things get complicated: Her parents suddenly disappear, and when Daiyu and her grandmother find out they've been arrested, Daiyu is forced to leave home. Though she briefly scrounges a living in nearby Zhifu, working for a calligraphy master she reveres, she's soon kidnapped herself, imprisoned, and finally shipped off to America, where she's expected to work in a brothel. Daiyu's journey ultimately takes her to the small town of Pierce, Idaho, where she masquerades as a young man and works as a shop assistant. There, she both falls in love and is confronted with the ugly reality of rising anti-Chinese violence, which puts her safety and that of her friends at risk. Debut novelist Zhang has thoroughly researched this period; certain details, like Daiyu's making her Pacific crossing in a coal bucket, startle and linger. Yet the relentlessly hopeful tone of much of the novel can feel discordant given the often grim realities of this historical period, which are gestured at here but not explored fully: Zhang's depiction of sex work is superficial, and despite Daiyu's long-term cross-dressing, the novel is disappointingly uninterested in queerness. It often feels designed more for teenagers than adult readers--Zhang's expository explanation of the Chinese Exclusion Act is particularly leaden--and so its thoroughly bleak ending, partly inspired by a real historical massacre, comes as a jarring surprise. There's nothing wrong with darkness--this novel could have used more--but its mix of tones feels out of whack. A well-intentioned but frustrating debut that never comes together. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

DEBUT After seeing a road marker in Pierce, ID, stating "Chinese Hanging," Zhang put an extraordinary amount of research into this historical novel with a touch of magical realism. The 1880s Chinese Exclusion Act permitted such barbaric behavior. In China, Daiyu had a happy childhood until her parents disappeared. Then she's kidnapped and transported to a brutal San Francisco brothel. After escaping, she moves to Boise, ID, where she calls herself Jacob Li (for protection against the violent American men she encounters). Eventually, she meets two elderly Chinese men in Pierce who give her work in their store and a home. One day, she and the store owners are threatened and abused by a white shopkeeper. Things take a tragic turn when Daiyu, the old men, and another Chinese friend are falsely accused of murdering their "rival." The sham trial adds to the horror and indignity they face as their lives are deemed expendable. In the epilogue, Zhang reveals that she finished the first draft of the book when COVID struck, when then-president Trump called it "The Chinese Virus." This emboldened her to remind people of what the United States did--and is still capable of. VERDICT Those who want to learn about a little-known incident in Chinese-American history will be enlightened by this moving debut.--Susan G. Baird

Zhang delves into the history of violence and prejudice against Chinese people in the U.S. with her debut, a lyrical and sweeping Bildungsroman. The narrator, Daiyu, is inspired by the tragic character at the center of Cao Xueqin's 18th-century novel Dream of the Red Chamber, whose irascible trickster ghost inhabits Daiyu. In the 1880s, Daiyu's mother and father suddenly disappear from their home in China. Daiyu finds refuge in a calligraphy school, disguised as a boy, but is nevertheless smuggled to a brothel in San Francisco's Chinatown. Narrowly escaping, thanks to the ghost's fearlessness, she reaches the mining town of Pierce, Idaho, and is hired by Nam and Lum, the Chinese owners of a general store. After a violent white mob threatens them, handsome violin teacher Nelson Wong stands with them and helps rescue a wounded Nam, and Daiyu secretly falls in love with him. Her story of self-discovery is interrupted after the white proprietor of a competing store is found murdered and Daiyu and the others are arrested, then abducted by vigilantes. The author skillfully delineates the many characters and offers fascinating details on Chinese calligraphy and literature, along with an unsparing view of white supremacy. The result is fierce and moving. Agent: Stephanie Delman, Trellis Literary. (Apr.)