child

This story has all the archetypal characters of a Brother’s Grimm fairytale: an evil stepmother, a browbeaten father, spoilt siblings and a neglected daughter. However, this is a true story and sadly there is no fairy godmother to come and save the day.

I first read the kids version of this book, Chinese Cinderella, in my early teens, and I was equally hooked and horrified by it. I don’t know why, but I remembered reading it just the other day – and thought it was about time to read the grown ups version, Falling Leaves, the full autobiography of Adeline Yen Mah.

Shortly after her birth in Tianjin (China), Jun-ling’s mother dies from a fever and Jun-ling is fated to be the outcast for the rest of her life after bringing such terrible luck on the family. Jun-ling’s father remarries a beautiful young woman half his age named Jeanne, who gives all her new stepchildren fashionable European names. As Jun-ling becomes Adeline, so begins Jeanne’s tyrannical hold over every aspect of Adeline’s young life.

I wouldn’t usually recommend books about child abuse to friends and family, as they’re usually incredibly upsetting to read. As important as it is to know about some of the awful things that go on in the world, Dave Peltzer’s A Child Called It just made me sick to the stomach. Falling Leaves is however, very different from anything else I’ve read in this category. For a start, Adeline’s abuse continued way into her adulthood, and is predominantly a cruel maze of mind games and psychological bullying. The author also provides cultural and social context, and explains how China’s modern history had an impact on her life – (I didn’t have a clue about any of this and it turns out China’s pretty interesting).

The clear hard facts of Adeline’s story are compelling enough, but the emotional anguish she describes makes you start to understand how she coped with her circumstances. I’m probably making this book sound really worthy. It isn’t. It actually comes across as incredibly honest. We also come to learn that Adeline’s passion was always writing, and she originally wanted to study literature (although because that wasn’t part of her father’s plan, she was sent away to do medicine instead). The writer definitely comes through in this story, making it personal, heart breaking and triumphant all at the same time.

The horror films that really creep me out are usually the ones that feature cute little kids with throaty adult voices. A malevolent devil masquerading as a pig-tailed bumpkin with rosy cheeks. But those sorts of characters are firmly rooted in the make believe. The character we encounter in this novel, as disturbing as it is, could very well appear on the front page tomorrow. And it’s as shocking as it is mesmerising.

We Need To Talk About Kevin is a story about a teenage boy responsible for a high school massacre, which although is fictitious in this instance, isn’t a far cry from the Columbine or Connecticut tragedies. The chilling tale is told by the boy’s mother, Eva, through a series of letters written to her estranged husband and Kevin’s father. As she searches for answers regarding what exactly would drive her son to mass murder, we get the sense that we are reading the words of an unreliable narrator – which only adds to the intrigue.

Questions around blame and culpability are indirectly raised, as Eva considers issues around parenting, and whether evil can be innate even in a child. It’s gripping, completely believable and hugely unsettling. Unlike many film adaptations I’ve seen, I feel that the film adaptation of this novel is absolutely bang on. However, reading the novel gives you all the intricacies and details of a family torn apart by this horrendous event, and beyond. It builds tension in a way that a 2 hour film couldn’t. It examines the relationship between a repulsive son, and a mother who never wanted to have any children in the first place (and after reading about this little bastard I can’t say I blame her).