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An early influence

Mary Chao

What do you want to be when you grow up?

That simple question which inspires day dreams in American children is rarely asked of Chinese children growing up in Asian countries. A child's future is to be shaped by the parents. After all, father and mother know best.

Did I know as a young girl growing up in Taiwan that I would ultimately become a writer? No.

What I was being groomed for was a debutante in training. Or a Tai Tai: a housewife trained in the arts who would someday be the head of a household.

But I was failing miserably at the task. My Chinese calligraphy looked like a someone swept it with a broom, so my teacher told my parents. I didn't practice piano and my singing voice resembled the killing of chickens, relatives would joke.

What I did enjoy doing as a young girl was reading. I'd devour books as soon as quickly as I can get my little hands on them.

In 1975, when my family decided to return to Taiwan after a year in the U.S., I discovered San Mao. She was the hottest writer in Taiwan during that era, writing about her travels in the Sahara desert.

San Mao was exotic. She was independent and traveled the world with her Spaniard husband named Hexi in her books. With her long, flowing black hair and her gypsy clothes, she was a free spirited hippie for the Chinese genre. Moving to the Sahara desert may not seem like a big deal to most westerners, but San Mao comes from a traditional Chinese family in an era when most young ladies prepared to become a Tai Tai.

San Mao was a true story teller. Her writing style was simple and uncomplicated, unlike most Chinese authors who preferred to write in a more formal style. The reader could truly empathize with the injustices she encountered in her travels.

As an American writer, I keep in mind the early lessons in good story telling I learned reading San Mao's books, which is to write simply and in your natural voice.

San Mao committed suicide in 1991. But I recently found out she has a new audience of young female readers.

My daughter's Chinese teacher, Chengyuan Sun, who is in her 20s,  grew up in Beijing reading San Mao's works. She tells me they are must-reads for high school students in Beijing.

Almost four decades after San Mao first emerged on the Chinese literary scene, she is still inspiring young women to day dream. Perhaps a young girl rediscovering her works in China will become the next great San Mao.