Suppose the Chinese Communist Party had aired TV commercials in the 1950s. In that case, they might have featured Jung Chang's early childhood as an example: Born in 1952, three years after Mao Zedong established the People's Republic of China, Chang enjoyed a quality free education, public canteen meals, and a comfortable apartment. She idolised Chairman Zedong for these blessings and felt fortunate to avoid the hardships of capitalism.

This starkly contrasts with the woman Chang would grow up to be. Her memoir, ‘Wild Swans’, is largely the story of her own disillusionment. By the end of its 650 pages, she feels disgusted for Zedong and the regime she grew up under. The book still cannot be published in China.

A fairytale gone wary

Though much of ‘Wild Swans’ focuses on Jung Chang’s life under Mao’s rule, the story begins decades before her birth, as reflected in its subtitle, ‘Three Daughters of China’. It opens with the life of Chang’s grandmother, who grew up in the Manchurian Empire, now northern China. Within the first 100 pages, a complex series of events unravels for her family and the region. The narrative follows her grandmother's life, including the moment her father gives her away as a concubine to a warlord.

As a teenager, Chang’s grandmother is confined to a house, waiting years before her husband visits her for the first time—a visit that leaves her pregnant. After giving birth to Chang's mother, the grandmother gains freedom when the warlord dies. Chang's mother grew up under Japanese occupation, only to witness her province engulfed in the decades-long civil war between the Kuomintang and the communists. At 15, she aligns herself with the communists, joining the underground movement. Following their victory, she meets Chang’s father, a celebrated communist officer. Despite early suspicion from the Party, the family enjoys prosperous years ahead, with Chang’s parents rising to prominence and her childhood resembling a picture-perfect life.

The communist dream began to crack in 1959 when disastrous agricultural policies triggered the Great Famine, which is now estimated to have claimed around 30 million lives. This devastating event plants the first seeds of doubt in the minds of Chang’s parents, who had been loyal Party members until then.

Chang’s sheltered life is completely upended when Mao launches the Cultural Revolution, a period marked by violent purges. Her parents, especially her father, fall from grace, joining thousands of disgraced officials nationwide. The family is torn apart, with both parents imprisoned. During these turbulent years, Chang works on farms, in factories, and at a doctor's office. The toll on her family is immense: her grandmother and many relatives perish, and her father, broken by years of physical and psychological abuse, dies of a heart attack after the worst has passed.

In 1978, Chang left China on an academic scholarship and moved to London, where she transformed her memories into her memoir, ‘Wild Swans’.

Personal—at times too personal

‘Wild Swans’ greatest strength is also its greatest weakness: It is a personal account. The book is most fascinating and insightful when it delves into Chang's experiences. Her depiction of being indoctrinated into Mao’s near-divine status—and her immense struggle to break free from that mindset, even as her parents endure horrific suffering—is particularly gripping.

Chang’s portrayal of her parents’ relationship is equally compelling. Her father, more potent within the Party and idealistic than her mother, creates a dynamic that leads to marital tensions. Chang vividly brings their characters and struggles to life, with the narrative reflecting her deep love and understanding of both perspectives.

Chang’s deep love and admiration for her family can sometimes feel excessive. In sections where ‘Wild Swans’ shifts from firsthand experiences to recounting the lives and thoughts of her ancestors, Chang often adopts the tone of a devoted descendant eager to present her lineage as morally flawless. This can make some scenes feel less believable, such as the account of her mother’s teenage imprisonment by Kuomintang soldiers, where she is portrayed as entirely fearless and unyielding.

As revealed in the afterword, much of the pre-Chang narrative is based on stories her mother shared during a visit to London in the 1980s. However, the book does not acknowledge this as a recollection filtered through time and memory, which it arguably should. This lack of context makes parts of the narrative feel overly polished and detached from the inherent subjectivity of oral history.

The first part of ‘Wild Swans’, covering the period before Chang's birth, is by far the book's weakest section. These initial 200 pages could have been significantly condensed to around 50, as they often feel overly drawn out. Alternatively, the tone of admiration could have been tempered or presented with greater context to provide a more balanced perspective. This adjustment would have made the narrative more grounded and engaging.

Real-life ‘1984’

While Chang’s family history is undoubtedly remarkable, some judicious editing would have enhanced the book overall. Many details are highly entertaining, such as the anecdote about the Communist Party’s decision that red could not signal “stop” because it was anti-revolutionary, leading to traffic chaos until the policy was reversed. However, other elements—such as lengthy, repetitive descriptions of vegetation—could have been trimmed without detracting from the experience, particularly for readers with only a casual interest in botany.

Overall, ‘Wild Swans’ is an impressive achievement, with the flaw that it was probably written from a place of too much love. Although it can be annoying at times, it is recommended for anyone who wants a crash course in Chinese history without having to pick up a real textbook—or for anybody who wants to know the effects of a real-world ‘1984’ on the minds of real people.

Wild Swans

Author: Jung Chang
Publisher: Harper Collins
Year: 1991