DESERT RITES

Xuemo explores delicate family dynamics and responsibilities in this novel set against the harsh landscape of China’s deserts.

In the 1990s, Laoshun is the patriarch of a poor but close-knit family in the Tengger Desert of China. The dynamics of his household are built around daily labor; he chastises his grown sons for their complaints. (“He knew how to talk to his sons,” the author writes. “If he went easy on them, nothing would happen, like pounding on water.”) Every day, Laoshun, his wife, and their three sons strive to make their living in the harsh desert, cycling through fox hunting, hawk training, grain transport, temple rituals, and various grueling forms of manual labor. In their downtime between tasks, the family members’ different personalities and conflicts begin to come into play. The family’s middle son, Mengzi, lacks a sense of responsibility and direction. He gambles away money, engages in an affair with a married woman, and contributes little to the family’s survival, sneaking in at all hours of the night. Hantou, the eldest son, is married to Ying’er, but rumors abound that he is suffering from some sort of health problem and impotency. After learning that his sister-in-law may still be a virgin, youngest son Lingguan feels his heart skip a beat, as he finds himself helplessly attracted to her. Meanwhile, the family’s only daughter, Lanlan, has been married off to a man named Bai Fu in a neighboring village, but much to Laoshun’s wife’s dismay, Bai Fu has revealed himself to have a terrible gambling problem, and rumors swirl of Lanlan’s disobedience to her in-laws (who punish her cruelly and unjustly on a daily basis). As the rumors about Hantou’s medical issues are confirmed, the rural family and their wider village must confront haunting questions about modernity and tradition as they struggle to survive, leaving them each to question the cost of duty, desire, and escaping one’s fate.

Xuemo’s writing can often feel like the text of a sociological study—detached, cold, and sweeping in scope. “Potatoes with millet and flour slurry is traditional breakfast fare for the people of Liangzhou,” he writes. “It is a common dish they have eaten for thousands of years.” This bird’s-eye view makes for a slow, steady march through the various plotlines, but each of the narrative threads pitting tradition against desire eventually bubbles over with satisfying emotion. The consummation of Lingguan and Ying’er’s passion is simultaneously sexy and tragic (especially as Hantou deteriorates), while Lanlan’s story of abuse at the hands of her in-laws is filled with unforgettable imagery. As her mother tries to gently encourage her to stay out of her mother-in-law’s way, Lanlan describes being accused of stealing after eating a single egg while pregnant; the author’s dry, staccato prose makes a bruising impact relating her plight: “‘I may not be worth much, but surely more than one yuan.’ By then Lanlan was sobbing.” Building toward a somber, ambiguous ending focused on ancient rites, Xuemo crafts an unromantic yet affecting human drama against a somber landscape.

At times as arid as its desert setting, this rural family drama draws readers into an unfamiliar world.