Chinese Cinderella Read online

  Some reviews for Chinese Cinderella:

  Chinese Cinderella has touched the hearts of many readers throughout the world, as you will see from the messages below:

  ‘Chinese Cinderella has to be the saddest, most moving story that I have ever known to exist. Not only did it touch me but it made me open my eyes and realize something that made me angry. How could anyone treat another human being in such a way?’ – Rachel (Singapore)

  ‘I thought I was the only one with a family that did not like me very much and I was always treated like I was not really their daughter. But Chinese Cinderella gave me hope and the power to know I could succeed at anything I put my mind to’ – Alyssa (USA)

  ‘I have read Chinese Cinderella many times. I have never cried so much in a book. I have learnt so much about things that happened in China and how life in China is so different to life in England’ – Kasie (England)

  ‘I feel really lucky and really thankful that I have the family that I do. This is the best book I have ever read’ – Bronti (Australia)

  ‘Your experiences make all of my problems seem so small, and it makes me grateful and appreciative of my family who love and care for me’ – Annemarie (Malta)

  ‘This is one book I will never forget in my life. Yen Jun‐ling, you are the real Chinese Cinderella’ – Kavin (India)

  Books by Adeline Yen Mah

  Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society

  For adults

  Falling Leaves

  PUFFIN MODERN CLASSICS

  Chinese Cinderella

  The Secret Story of an Unwanted Daughter

  Adeline Yen Mah’s family considered her to be bad luck because her mother died giving birth to her. They discriminated against her and made her feel unwanted all her life. After the death of her stepmother in 1990, she felt compelled to write her story.

  Falling Leaves became an international bestseller, and has been translated into many different languages. Drawing on her childhood as described in the early part of Falling Leaves, this book is the true story of Adeline Yen Mah’s childhood up to the age of fourteen.

  ADELINE YEN MAH

  Chinese Cinderella

  PUFFIN

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi -110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  puffinbooks.com

  First published in Australia by Penguin Books Ltd 1999

  Published in Puffin Books 1999

  Published in Puffin Modern Classics 2009

  Copyright © Adeline Yen Mah 1999 1999 2009

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re‐sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  ISBN: 978-0-141-93381-8

  Dedicated to all unwanted children

  I have always cherished this dream of creating something unique and imperishable, so that the past should not fade away forever. I know one day I shall die and vanish into the void, but hope to preserve my memories through my writing. Perhaps others who were also unwanted may see them a hundred years from now, and be encouraged. I imagine them opening the pages of my book and meeting me (as a ten‐year‐old) in Shanghai, without actually having left their own homes in Sydney, Tokyo, London, Hong Kong or Los Angeles. And I shall welcome each and every one of them with a smile and say, ‘How splendid of you to visit me! Come in and let me share with you my story . . . because I understand only too well the rankling in your heart and what you are going through.’

  Acknowledgements

  To my husband, Bob:

  for putting up with me and for always being there for me

  To my children, Roger and Ann, and my nephew, Gary:

  for being proud of me

  To my editor, Erica Wagner:

  for her patient and skilful guidance

  To my publisher, Bob Sessions:

  for his belief in me

  For all of us to get along during this new millennium we must

  understand each other’s history, language and culture.

  Towards that end I am donating all royalties from Falling

  Leaves and Chinese Cinderella to a foundation modelled

  after the Rhodes Scholarship programme to enable students

  to study at universities in Beijing and Shanghai.

  Introduction

  by Julia Eccleshare

  Puffin Modern Classics series editor

  To be unloved by your parents is one of the harshest fates for a child and Adeline Yen Mah reveals the pain of her early years poignantly. Born to wealthy Chinese parents living a very comfortable life before the Communist revolution, Adeline’s childhood should have been a happy one. But, tragically, her mother died giving birth to her and, through no fault of her own, she was therefore branded as the bringer of misfortune by her father and older siblings. Worse is to follow when her father remarries. Already badly treated by her original family, Adeline now has a stepmother who detests her and she has to suffer the torment of seeing her younger stepbrother and stepsister being petted and treated while she is neglected. For a while, Adeline is protected by her adored aunt and grandfather, but her stepmother’s hatred of her grows; she is torn away from everything she loves and is sent off to boarding‐school where her loss of self‐confidence brings her to the edge of depression.

  Given the facts, this could be a story full of self‐pity but Adeline has an irrepressible spirit and the gift of great intelligence. The result is that she gives an account of her life which is full of moments of happiness and triumph against adversity as much as it is a catalogue of despair. Adeline’s shining personality bounds so strongly off the page that you are sure that you know her. Her predicaments – especially how she tries to keep her miserable home life a secret from her friends at school – are easy to identify with and, along with her, readers will find their hearts in their mouths that in everything she does she might be found out at any moment by her stepmother.

  Chinese Cinderella is an inspiring battle cry to all children: keep your dreams alive as that is the only way to counter adversity!

  Contents

  Preface

  Author’s Note

  Map

  1 Top of the Class

  2 A Tianjin Family

  3 Nai Nai’s Bound Feet

  4 Life in Tianjin

  5 Arrival in Shanghai

  6 First Day at School

  7 Family Reunion

  8 Tram Fare

&n
bsp; 9 Chinese New Year

  10 Shanghai School Days

  11 PLT

  12 Big Sister’s Wedding

  13 A Birthday Party

  14 Class President

  15 Boarding-school in Tianjin

  16 Hong Kong

  17 Boarding-school in Hong Kong

  18 Miserable Sunday

  19 End of Term

  20 Pneumonia

  21 Play-writing Competition

  22 Letter from Aunt Baba

  The Story of Ye Xian :

  The Original Chinese Cinderella

  Historical Note

  Postscript

  Preface

  Chinese Cinderella is my autobiography. It was difficult and painful to write but I felt compelled to do so. Though mine is but a simple, personal tale of my childhood, please do not underestimate the power of such stories. In one way or another, every one of us has been shaped and moulded by the stories we have read and absorbed in the past. All stories, including fairy‐tales, present elemental truths which can sometimes permeate your inner life and become part of you.

  The fact that this story is true may hold special appeal. Today, the world is a very different place. Though many Chinese parents still prefer sons, daughters are not so much despised. But the real things have not changed. It is still important to be truthful and loyal; to do the best you can; to make the most of your talents; to be happy with the simple things in life; and to believe deep down that you will ultimately triumph if you try hard enough to prove your worth.

  To those who were neglected and unloved as children, I have a particular message. In spite of what your abusers would have had you believe, please be convinced that each of you has within you something precious and unique. Chinese Cinderella is dedicated to you with the fervent wish that you will persist in trying to do your best in the face of hopelessness; to have faith that in the end your spirit will prevail; to transcend your traumas and transform them into a source of courage, creativity and compassion.

  Mother Teresa once said that ‘loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted are the greatest poverty’. To this I will add: ‘Please believe that one single positive dream is more important than a thousand negative realities.’

  Adeline Yen Mah

  Author’s Note

  Chinese is a pictorial language. Every word is a different picture and has to be memorised separately. There is no alphabet and no connection between the written and spoken language. A person can learn to read and write Chinese without knowing how to speak one word.

  Because each word is a pictograph, Chinese calligraphy evokes a greater emotional response than the same word lettered in alphabet. The art of calligraphy is highly revered in China. Poetry written in calligraphy by ancient masters is prized and passed on from generation to generation.

  Through Chinese Cinderella, I hope to intrigue you not only with the plight of a little girl growing up in China, but also interest you with her history and culture.

  Names

  In Chinese families, a child is called by many names.

  1. My father’s surname is Yen (). My siblings and I inherited his surname of Yen (). Chinese surnames come at the beginning of a person’s name.

  2. At birth, a baby is given a name by his or her parents. My given name is Jun‐ling. Since my surname comes first, my Chinese name is Yen Jun‐ling ().

  3. At home, a child is called by a name dependent on the order of his or her birth. The oldest daughter is called Big Sister, the second daughter Second Sister and so on. There are separate Chinese words for ‘older sister’ (jie ) and ‘younger sister’ (mei ); ‘older brother’ (ge ) and ‘younger brother’ (di ). Since I was the fifth child in my family, my name at home was Fifth Younger Sister (Wu Mei ). However, my younger siblings called me Wu Jie (), which means ‘Fifth Older Sister’.

  4. When the older generation calls me Wu Mei () the word ‘mei’ takes on the meaning of ‘daughter’. Wu Mei () now means Fifth Daughter.

  5. The same goes for the word ‘di’. Er Di () can mean Second Younger Brother or Second Son.

  6. Our stepmother gave us European names when she married my father. When my brothers and I attended schools in Hong Kong and London where English was the main language, my name became Adeline Yen.

  7. After I married, I adopted my Chinese American husband Bob Mah’s last name and my name is now Adeline Yen Mah.

  8. Big Sister’s () name is Lydia, Big Brother’s () is Gregory, Second Brother’s () is Edgar, Third Brother’s () is James. Fourth Younger Brother’s name () is Franklin. Little Sister’s name () is Susan.

  Chapter One

  Top of the Class

  Autumn, 1941.

  As soon as I got home from school, Aunt Baba noticed the silver medal dangling from the left

  breast‐pocket of my uniform. She was combing her hair in front of the mirror in our room when I rushed in and plopped my school‐bag down on my bed.

  ‘What’s that hanging on your dress?’

  ‘It’s something special that Mother Agnes gave me in front of the whole class this afternoon. She called it an award.’

  My aunt looked thrilled. ‘So soon? You only started kindergarten one week ago. What is it for?’

  ‘It’s for topping my class this week. When Mother Agnes pinned it on my dress, she said I could wear it for seven days. Here, this certificate goes with it.’ I opened my school‐bag and handed her an envelope as I climbed onto her lap.

  She opened the envelope and took out the certificate.

  ‘Why, it’s all written in French or English or some other foreign language. How do you expect me to read this, my precious little treasure?’ I knew she was pleased because she was smiling as she hugged me. ‘One day soon,’ she continued, ‘you’ll be able to translate all this into Chinese for me. Until then, we’ll just write today’s date on the envelope and put it away somewhere safe. Go close the door properly and put on the latch so no one will come in.’

  I watched her open her closet door and take out her safe‐deposit box. She took the key from a gold chain around her neck and placed my certificate underneath her jade bracelet, pearl necklace and diamond watch – as if my award were also some precious jewel impossible to replace.

  As she closed the lid, an old photograph fell out. I picked up the faded picture and saw a solemn young man and woman, both dressed in old‐fashioned Chinese robes. The man looked rather familiar.

  ‘Is this a picture of my father and dead mama?’ I asked.

  ‘No. This is the wedding picture of your grandparents. Your Ye Ye was twenty‐six and your Nai Nai was only fifteen.’ She quickly took the photo from me and locked it in her box.

  ‘Do you have a picture of my dead mama?’

  She avoided my eyes. ‘No. But I have wedding pictures of your father and stepmother Niang. You were only one year old when they married. Do you want to see them?’

  ‘No. I’ve seen those before. I just want to see one of my own mama. Do I look like her?’ Aunt Baba did not reply, but busied herself putting the safe‐deposit box back into her closet. After a while I said, ‘When did my mama die?’

  ‘Your mother came down with a high fever three days after you were born. She died when you were two weeks old . . .’ She hesitated for a moment, then exclaimed suddenly, ‘How dirty your hands are! Have you been playing in that sand‐box at school again? Go wash them at once! Then come back and do your homework!’

  I did as I was told. Though I was only four years old, I understood I should not ask Aunt Baba too many questions about my dead mama. Big Sister once told me, ‘Aunt Baba and Mama used to be best friends. A long time ago, they worked together in a bank in Shanghai owned by our Grand Aunt, the youngest sister of Grandfather Ye Ye. But then Mama died giving birth to you. If you had not been born, Mama would still be alive. She died because of you. You are bad luck.’

  Chapter Two

  A Tianjin Family

  At the time of my birth, Big Sister was six and
a half years old. My three brothers were five, four and three. They blamed me for causing Mama’s () death and never forgave me.

  A year later, Father () remarried. Our stepmother, whom we called Niang (), was a seventeen‐year‐old Eurasian beauty fourteen years his junior. Father always introduced her to his friends as his French wife though she was actually half French and half Chinese. Besides Chinese, she spoke French and English. She was almost as tall as Father, stood very straight and dressed only in French clothes – many of which came from Paris. Her thick, wavy, black hair never had a curl out of place. Her large, dark‐brown eyes were fringed with long, thick lashes. She wore heavy make‐up, expensive French perfume and many diamonds and pearls. It was Grandmother Nai Nai who told us to call her Niang, another Chinese term for ‘mother’.

  One year after their wedding, they had a son (Fourth Brother) followed by a daughter (Little Sister). There were now seven of us: five children from Father’s first wife and two from our stepmother, Niang.

  As well as Father and Niang, we lived with our Grandfather Ye Ye (), Grandmother Nai Nai () and Aunt Baba () in a big house in the French Concession of Tianjin, a city port on the north‐east coast of China. Aunt Baba was the older sister of our father. Because she was meek, shy, unmarried and had no money of her own, my parents ordered her to take care of me. From an early age, I slept in a cot in her room. This suited me well because I grew to know her better and better and we came to share a life apart from the rest of our family. Under the circumstances, perhaps it was inevitable that, in time, we loved each other very deeply.

  Many years before, China had lost a war (known as the Opium War) against England and France. As a result, many coastal cities in China (such as Tianjin and Shanghai) came to be occupied by foreign soldiers.