It’s been a while since I read a book on Chinese history, but I’m back into it—and I’ve got my reasons. I truly enjoyed Jonathan D. Spence’s Mao Zedong but got slogged down in his Search for Modern China (that was several years ago now), but I’ve purchased his books whenever I’ve seen them and finally gave this little volume a shot.

If you’re looking for a unique method of reading history, The Death of Woman Wang is it! Spence helps readers take a step back in time to 17th Century rural China, to a county crushed by tragedy and disaster, both natural and otherwise. In T’an-ch’eng, we meet magistrates and poets, peasants and rebels, widows and neighbors all seeking to eke out a life in a difficult and backwards corner of the country.

And why T’an-ch’eng? Simply because no one else had ever cared to write about it before. Why would they? It’s backwoods and rural, having developed no scholars or artists and barely able to add anything to the agricultural landscape at the time. Harassed by tax collectors, overrun by bandits, spoiled by earthquakes and floods, it’s a place most residents would have fled, had they not been too wracked by poverty to so!

Spence came across accurate and detailed records from the time period, documents describing the financial and natural crises and court cases written by magistrates—most of whom would rather have had any post but that of T’an-ch’eng. He also gathers and uses several surviving works of fiction from the time period and region to help paint the picture more colorfully—a method of writing I loved and wish more historians would utilize.

As I read the book about this should-have-been-forgotten backwater spot in China, I tried to visualize something similar being written about America. Books about pre-America in the 17th century would have covered such topics as exploration, survival, colonial governance and the like. But imagine an author unearthing the records of, say, an Alabama country from the 1830s and building a full-scale historical work like this from its descriptions of land, taxation, agriculture, peasants, and court cases—all of whom have also been forgotten by history. This is sort of what Historical Societies do in their private publications, I guess, but few people want to read such things. What Spence has done with this book is make this otherwise ignorable information accessible and fascinating, and kudos to him for bringing this specific dot in history to life!

The “Woman Wang” in the book is only a minor character and shows up only in the final chapter. The initial chapters though (about the culture, landscape and troubles of the area) all help develop the context for her story, another small blip in history that makes for a fitting conclusion.

Throughout this book, Spence once again proves himself a masterful historian, weaving facts and era-fiction into a tapestry that brings T’an-ch’eng to life. It just begs the question for me though: how many other counties and cultures and peoples and stories have been lost to time that no one anymore remembers or cares about? The answer must be in the billions…and that’s just a sad truth we all need to accept about ourselves and our own hometowns and histories.

One hundred years from now, Friends, we’ll likely all be forgotten—at least on this Earth (here’s a song I like by New Zealand punk-rock group All Left Out about this very idea, “In a Century”). Thankfully there’s Someplace and Someone that will remember…the God of the Universe owns the record books, and He doesn’t forget. Everyone will stand before Him at some point and give account for what they’ve done in this life based on their relationship with Him. It’s a comforting reality for those who can call Him “Abba, Father,” but a terrifying truth for those who don’t. Stop and think about that for a bit…

Then, sometime later, read this book. It’s a good one.

©2024 E.T.