British Chinese author Wenyan Lu writes sublimely of quotidian, quiet lives in her debut novel, The Funeral Cryer. Lu, born in Shanghai, identifies towns and cities of her birth country as settings for her fiction but relies on titles and descriptions rather than given names for her characters. That anonymity deftly underscores the universality of human experiences--trust, betrayal, disappointment, hope, and, for the lucky, maybe love.
Lu's protagonist is the eponymous funeral cryer, hired usually by strangers to grieve the passing of a family member. Hers is the only (sporadic) income supporting her and her indolent husband. Despite his unemployment--he claims mah-jongg winnings as his household contribution--he shows no gratitude to his working wife, repeatedly demeaning her with insults. As for the cryer, being "associated with death constantly" has made her the village pariah.
As Lu establishes the couple's routines, she also nimbly integrates small disturbances that grow. Their unmarried daughter, living in Shanghai, becomes pregnant. Her father dies; her mother unexpectedly moves in. The cryer continues to cry: "Miserable stories made me feel as if my life wasn't all that terrible; all the stories added a little excitement and life to my boring existence."
Lu is an astutely attentive writer, providing small details that cleverly imply broader meanings: the cryer wears her faraway daughter's left-behind clothing that doesn't quite fit; she can chat for a few minutes outside but can never go into a neighbor's home. Lest her protagonist seem more victim than active, Lu bestows the cryer with first-person agency to craft what proves to be a richly layered story. --Terry Hong