Book Review – “The Fox Wife”

Three Stars out of Five

In recent years, novels showcasing Asian myth and folklore have landed on my reading radar. While not all of them make an impression on me, I’ve enjoyed quite a few. This title came to my attention through a fellow book blogger, who gave it a generally positive review. The overall story and cultural backdrop intrigued me, so I decided to check it out. In the end, I found this to be a rather likable read.

The Fox Wife, by Yangsze Choo, is a stand alone novel set in early 1900s China and Japan. Here, the story is told in a split narrative, shared between the fox-woman Snow and the aging detective Bao. Snow, in her true form, is a fox, a being both feared and revered by many and one that is cloaked in both mystery and superstition. She has set her heart on a quest – to find the man responsible for the death of her child. Her journey will require her to assume a Human facade and interact with both Humans and foxes alike. But the vengeance she seeks will not come easy, as there is another side to the story. Enter Bao, who has been hired to uncover the truth behind a murdered courtesan. But what begins as a missing identity case slowly blossoms into one that will force Bao to use his inborn gifts and face the beings he has always feared and admired – foxes. In time, Snow and Bao’s stories will cross, but will they find the answers they seek?

Despite my overall middling feeling towards it, The Fox Wife harbors plenty of positive attributes. The most noteworthy aspect is its clear sense of place and time. I have found that some historical fiction tends to focus more on the history and less on the fictional characters populating its world. To The Fox Wife‘s credit, its historical and geographic significance is present, but these function as a backdrop for the plot rather than acting as quasi-characters themselves.

Even more prevalent is the intense focus on aspects of Asian mythology and folklore, especially concerning foxes. It is here where the novel retains vestiges of magical realism in which the lines between the mundane and the mythical are satisfactorily blurred. While much of this information is told rather than shown, it’s gently interwoven throughout so the text is devoid of lengthy infodumps. This sense of culture and myth are so ingrained in the story itself that, if it had been removed, the story itself wouldn’t have existed. I truly appreciate that detail, as many books utilize a historical or cultural cloak merely as a window dressing, not as a vital and vibrant story element.

The writing itself possesses a good rhythm and is descriptive enough so it’s easy to envision scenes, settings, and even foods (seriously – don’t read this if you’re hungry!), but it avoids becoming purple prose. Along these lines, even though this novel features dual narrators, it never becomes confusing in determining who is speaking and when. Each chapter is devoted either to Snow’s or Bao’s relaying of events, and the use of contextual clues solidifies who is speaking in a given chapter. Even when Snow and Bao share physical spaces, the novel retains each character’s voice so the story never sounds like its narrators are nothing more than disembodied voices on the page.

The crux of the story’s plot are two mysteries: the first is Bao’s attempts to track down a murderer, and the second is Snow’s desire for revenge against a murderer. While Bao’s plot line retains classic staples of good, old fashioned detective fiction, Snow’s story is a classic revenge tale where the path forward is less than smooth. Both story types mesh well and make an effective use of their respective narrative and plot conventions. It’s easy to root for both characters to achieve closure to their own individual stories, and there are some good reunion-type moments that are worth not spoiling. Thus, The Fox Wife is a full circle tale that ties up its loose ends and, despite its darker moments, still ends on an uplifting note.

I had high hopes for this novel because it seemed like the sort of book that would draw me in. And while it did to start, its prolonged midsection caused my interest to wane, turning it into a pleasant, but admittedly average, read in the end. Thus, there were enough attributes that caused me to be less than enthralled. Probably my biggest complaint would be that, while the slow burn approach to the plot works in the early chapters, it causes the story to sag from the midpoint on. Oddly enough, the story’s internal events retain a steady clip, but the plot itself takes a while to gain momentum. In truth, this feels like a much longer book as opposed to a 400 page read. If this had been a novella or a shorter novel, this prolonged slow-to-start approach might have served the story better. Instead, the dragging pace causes the story itself to lose steam long before the end.

Likewise, The Fox Wife cannot escape the seemingly required inclusion of feminist droppings. While these aren’t frequent or overarching enough for me to dub this a feminist story – and it helps that Bao serves as a solid male character – they are still annoying, akin to eating a handful of popcorn only to unexpectedly chomp down on an unpopped kernel. Snow’s comments about distrusting men and the overall depiction of men as mostly unhelpful or conniving feel unnecessary. Thankfully, Bao redeems these moments by proving, while he is imperfect, he is still trustworthy, honest, perceptive, and noble. In the end, the novel shows it’s a product of the times but certainly isn’t the worst offender in terms of touting a full-on feminist slant.

Overall, The Fox Wife is a lovely work of Asian-inspired historical fiction with a dash of mystery and a sprinkling of magical realism. Readers searching for historical fiction that makes its characters the priority and offers up a compelling two-sided plot are encouraged to give this a try. With its slow pace and feminist hat tipping duly noted, The Fox Wife would still make for an enjoyable read to cozy up to any night of the week.

Content:
Language – None, save for a possible rare, mild, blink-and-miss-it swear.

Violence – Nothing in terms of anything graphic or gory. Much of the plot focuses on Bao’s investigation of a murdered courtesan, whose death occurs off-page. There are also some brief discussions about foot binding (a cultural practice at the time), though these avoid becoming too graphic. Snow’s backstory reveals that she once lost a loved one and now seeks revenge; however, the specific details as to this loved one’s demise are never shared though we’re presented with a general picture of what happened. Snow considers killing a character but fails to do so. A few other characters are found dead, though their demises occur off-page.

Sexual Content – Nothing in terms of any sex scenes or nudity. Bao’s investigation leads him to a city’s pleasure district where he talks with a madam, but no sexual content occurs or is depicted. Bao talks with a underage kitchen girl at another brothel, and she mentions that most of the girls like her will end up being sold to the brothel when they get older. Elsewhere, Snow ends up sharing a train ride with a pimp who tries to force himself on her, but she is unharmed as she drains his energy off-page and disposes of the body. A character remarks that a naked woman standing on the side of the road would attract the wrong kind of attention. A few male characters come on to Snow, from playfully biting her neck (without her consent) to proposing she exchange physical pleasure for a favor. (One such scene has Snow tumbling to the floor and a male character starting to touch her bare leg, but nothing else occurs and nothing further happens.) In all of these instances, Snow refuses their advances. Lastly, there are general references to mistresses, concubines, and courtesans, but no details regarding these relationships are given.