The "Two Women of China" of this novel's subtitle are one and the same: Mulberry is a Chinese woman who has witnessed the major upheavals of twentieth-century China before fleeing to the United States in the 1960s, while the defiant, "Americanized" Peach is her "liberated" alterego borne of a traumatic past.

Nieh presents Mulberry/Peach's story in four sections. In the first part, while China is suffering from the final attacks of the Japanese invaders at the end of World War II, Mulberry is a teenage runaway stranded with other refugees on a boat caught in the rapids of the Yangtse River. A few years later, she is trapped in Peking with her fiance and his dying mother as the Communists surround the city. In the late 1950s, Mulberry is imprisoned in an attic in Taiwan, hiding from the authorities who are seeking her husband on embezzlement charges. And, in the final section, she has emigrated to the United States, where she is being pursued by the INS and haunted by her other identity, Peach.

Mulberry's plight is, at best, bleak, but Nieh manages to balance an astonishing sense of humor with the description of the calamities and isolation faced by her protagonist. Hauntingly written and beautifully translated, the novel can be read on many levels: historical and cultural allegory, political satire, a treatise on the immigrant's schizophrenic experience, a commentary on Eastern and Western sexual mores and gender identity. As a bonus, Sau-ling Cynthia Wong's discerning afterword amplifies these and other themes and provides useful background for understanding the novel, but (fortunately) "Mulberry and Peach" will be immediately accessible to any reader.

This qualifies as one of the most remarkable novels I have ever read. The title character Peach, in declaring her freedom, careens on as wild and uninhibited a course as any character in literature much in contrast to her meek and terrified now subaltern Mulberry. Try to buy the version which has an afterword by the translator: read this as you're reading the novel as the comments are interesting, informative, and enlightening. The novel's form, its literary roots, its themes all evade any fixed classification--no one can lay claim to any advocacy unless it is on its plea for the individual's integrity in the face of the attempts by societies, historical forces, and governments to quantify and stratify our lives. But even that claim cannot come close to revealing the complexity and exquisite craft of the work itself. Only on a second reading do I start to discover how much a treasure of telling detail "Mulberry and Peach" is. For you analytical types, there are multiple levels of allegory threading through the work. The caveat to "not overinterpret" seems not to apply. Such compelling writing deserves to become better known, more widely read and reread, and extensively broadcast to college literature classes around the world. Let's get it back in print, and then keep it in print. Although I am given to enthusiasms, I'm not given to hyperbole--I say, this is the work of a most masterful author. Please, someone, translate more of her work!

Hua-Ling Nieh's writing is tantamount to dreaming a song/story, it does not directly appeal to the senses but rather, enters the reader's mind subconsciously. A fascinating portrayal of a woman surviving post World War II turmoil in China, it blatantly and delicately explores the impact of the cultural, lingual, political, and social upheaval that is part of revolution. Mulberry herself undergoes a complete dissociation of her 'hated', 'weaker' Chinese self and morphs into Peach, the 'liberated', 'strong' American self. A wonderful story of survival, mental illness, and cultural transplantation, something many Americans do not appreciate. Should appeal to anyone interested in Chinese or Chinese/American history, feminism, or mental illness in literature.