A Song to Drown Rivers
Two and a half thousand years ago, a Chinese peasant sends her daughter to the river to wash silk. There is a problem: the girl is beautiful; dangerously beautiful. Her mother veils her. Despite her mother’s precautions, danger finds Xishi. There’s a fight. Blood is shed. But Xishi embraces it, steeled by the resolve to avenge her sister, massacred by the invading Wu army. Hence, Fanli, mysterious and compelling advisor to the King of Yue, recruits Xishi as a secret weapon. Her mission is to become a live Trojan Horse: gifted as a concubine to the enemy king. Once in his palace, she will work to overthrow the Kingdom of Wu.
So opens a book in which achingly beautiful scenes of flowers, landscapes and lovers are contrasted with visceral brutality. Both have a timeless quality: the images reminiscent of classical Chinese scrolls, the violence straight from today’s news.
The story is based on a legend which tells of Xishi’s role in a war between rival Chinese states in the 5th century BC. The power of this book lies in the realisation of these mythical characters. In the author’s hands, they become physical bodies with desires, fears and uncertainties. Xishi’s passion, of course, falls where it should not, and the despair of the lovers is electric. These people may have lived thousands of years ago, but their distress is as real as any endured today. For this reason, this book comes with a health warning to those who might be triggered by trauma, grief or bloodshed. But as a work of beauty and as a powerful indictment of the suffering caused by war, it comes highly recommended.
