I was young when I read James Michener's Hawaii, but old enough to feel a sense of injustice over the indignities suffered by a female character in the book who became a kind of hero for me. Her name was Char Nyuk Tsin. But for decades, I remembered her only as Wu Chow’s Auntie.
Her Story
Nyuk Tsin’s life in China isn't a happy one. Her father abandoned the family when she was six. Ten years later, she learns that he’s been executed as a rebel, and the General delivering his head to the village orders that the widow be shot as well, leaving Nyuk Tsin in the care of an uncle who treats her shabbily. Soon after, she is kidnapped and sold to a brothel. Because she is an undesirable Hakka woman, the Punti brothel keeper arranges to have her shipped off to another brothel in Hawaii.
The man hired to transport her, Kee Mun Ki, is a young gambler who is emigrating to the Fragrant Tree Country to make his fortune in the sugar plantations. To secure passage for the girl, Kee tells his new employer, Dr. Whipple, that she is his wife. Despite the fact that he already has a good Punti wife back home, Mun Ki falls for Nyuk Tsin during the long ocean voyage and takes her as his second wife when they reach their destination. Several months later, Nyuk Tsin gives birth to a son.
When Dr. Whipple asks what they have named the baby, he is intrigued to learn that the name must be selected by a scholar. He accompanies the couple to a store in Chinatown. Once there, Mun Ki hands the scholar a poem from which the names of the Kee family are derived. As the child is a third-generation Kee, his given name must be based on the third word in the poem, Chow, which means continent (or so Michener tells us).
Inspiration strikes the learned man, who announces that the Kees must name their son Kee Ah Chow, the Key who Controls the Continent of Asia. The scholar tells Mun Ki in Punti that he is destined to have many sons, and that each must be named after the other great continents: Europe, Africa, America, and Australia. And henceforth, Nyuk Tsin must be known as Wu Chow's Mother, "for she is to be the mother of continents."
Nyuk Tsin doesn't speak Punti, so the pronouncement is lost on her, along with the rest of the exchange as Mun Ki tells the learned man that she is not his "real wife." The scholar decides it's better to avoid granting her the status of mother, "seeing that she's a Hakka," and amends his proclamation as follows: "Let her be known as Wu Chow's Auntie."
The next line in the #story is brief exposition and easy to miss. But in its almost negligent casualness, it speaks volumes about the status of #women as independent beings in both fiction and real #life:
Mun Ki nodded and told his wife her new name.
My Story
I was not yet a fully formed feminist when I read those words, but I had enough of a sense of myself as a person to be both charmed and appalled by that pronouncement. What struck me then and now is how so quaint a name could mask such a remarkably callous denial of this woman’s agency and self worth.
Up to this point in her story, Nyuk Tsin has had very little sway over her own fate. She simply exists. Those around her treat her like a bad luck charm and shove her away. At every turn, she becomes what the men around her force her to become.
She later asserts herself and proves to be a shrewd businesswoman. To be sure, she carves out this space for herself within the limits imposed by a patriarchal structure that denies her even the simple name of Mother, let alone her given name, Nyuk Tsin. In a sense, that’s what makes her all the more remarkable. She is resilient and resourceful, demonstrating how it is that women don’t have to be victims. We are survivors.
Wu Chow’s Auntie was part of my early consciousness raising. Whether Michener can be credited for that is an open question. Nor do I regard his detailed description of Chinese customs as necessarily accurate. For this reason, I didn’t then and don’t now read this narrative as an indictment of Chinese cultural ways, especially given that Nyuk Tsin’s story strikes too universal a chord to characterize it simply as “the way of China,” even though that’s what Michener has the scholar avow.
Our Story
Historically, women have been identified by the male company they keep, or rather, by the male company that keeps them. In many cultures, we receive our fathers’ surnames and then our husbands’.
Growing up in the era of second-wave feminism, I understood why some women, like Kathie Sarachild, experimented with matrilineal names. And even today, I cling to the original intent behind the title of Ms. and use it for both single and married women (because a woman should not be identified by her marital status any more than a Mister is!).
The issue here is not just one of titles and surnames. It’s about agency. It’s about whether and how women get to decide who and what we are. It’s about freedom from rape, abuse, and harrassment. It’s about equal pay, equal opportunity, and our right to choose. It’s about our worth as human beings, our dignity, and our conviction that we have earned the respect we are owed.
I had considered some of these questions settled. Recent events suggest otherwise. This is why I’m resurrecting Wu Chow’s Auntie and appropriating her as a symbol of both our defilement and our defiance.
Feminism Foreshadowed
I expect I’ll be writing about a number of things that aren’t directly related to sexual equality and issues of gender identity, gender expression, and sexual orientation. I am, among other things, a storyteller, a photographer, a geek, and a gamer. As a rule, I would much rather spend time reading a novel than a newspaper.
But I am political by necessity, not by choice. When otherwise good people do dangerously stupid things--like elect a women-hating, narcissistic, reality-TV host with no political experience to the highest office in the most powerful country in the world--what’s a reasonable feminist to do? Ignoring the problem won’t make him go away. And he certainly isn’t our only problem, as the #MeToo movement clearly demonstrates.
So I’m going to channel Wu Chow’s Auntie and try using my words to inspire the women across continents who will not be repressed and the men who aren’t threatened by our empowerment. #Feminism is not a dirty word. I hope to demonstrate that in subsequent posts and to dispel the nasty rumor that feminists don’t have a sense of humor.
Cheers! @WuChowsAuntie