Malnutrition
Imagery is used to especially powerful effect in a scene viscerally conveying the consequences of lack of proper nutrition upon childhood development: “Closing my mouth, I let my teeth bite down fully, but a staggering pain shoots through my body and I spit out the apple’s flesh. On the ground, beside Pala’s fingers, the gnawed piece of fruit sits covered in blood. Something small and hard lingers in my mouth. I open my burning jaw and let it fall into my palm. A brown tooth drops, followed by a trail of red-streaked saliva.” This gruesome consequence of what was intended to be a special treat is the result of an extended period of leaf shrubs, barley, and the paltry meat afforded by small game. The of lack of access to anything even remotely resembling a balanced diet is, in turn, a consequence of imperialist invasion and occupation of Tibet by China.
Sensory Infiltration
One of the narrators of the book describes how even the sky changed as a result of the Chinese invasion. Looking up meant seeing sheet after sheet of enormous banners stretches across entire rooftops and appearing overnight above their doors: “We learned that the foreigner’s language was made of whole words, not letters. Each word was made of sharp lines layered one over the other with edges that formed an invisible box. An ornate but rapid script, its direction was different from ours, running up and down instead of left to right.” To look upward suddenly meant to face propaganda designed for indoctrination into the Chinese communist ideology of Mao. That the words could not be understood is beside the point. The point was to filtrate the very sense of Tibetan identity.
Another Pointless Ritual
One of the narrators, Lhamo, describes her wedding ceremony with a special focus reserved for a bridal ritual which must certainly some serve purpose in some way: “Because a ceremonial pole is tucked into the back of my dress, right against my spine, I am forced to hunch and experience this strange day in a state of isolation, capable only of staring at my lap. My neck, too, is bent with a growing pile of silk scarves. As each wedding guest lays a khata on my neck and utters a prayer for my happiness, I try to identify them by their voice.” The imagery fails to convey or even hint at what purpose such an accoutrement may serve, but then that’s not the point. The point is well served: making the reader almost viscerally experience the profound discomfort of the bride.
The Custom of the Natives
Another narrator, Dolma, describes an entirely different sort of ritual: “I’ve come to recognize this as something of a local custom—to express enthusiasm and agreement without real interest. A kind of polite but unyielding distance that saturates so many interactions…raised eyebrows and tight-lipped smiles… clarifying where I stand in their eyes. Theirs isn’t the gaze of a mentor upon a student but a fixed asymmetry. They look at me as though I am a child whom they can tolerate at the table as long as I know my place.” This custom has developed as way of registering mutually agreed disrespect by encoding it as praise delivered to uninitiated. Unfortunately, for the conspirators in this case, Dolma speaks their language all too well. As imagery, it is intended as juxtaposition. Oppression comes in many different forms., not just violent military invasion and occupation.
