Letters Symbol in Daughters of Shandong: Hope, Connection, and Fragile Lifelines Across Borders

The Literal Object: Paper, Ink, and the Weight of Words

In Daughters of Shandong, letters are physical artifacts—folded sheets, envelopes, and the ink that carries a voice across distance. They appear at pivotal moments: the father’s letter from Qingdao, Uncle Jian’s entry-permit correspondence, Nai Nai’s hostile note, and the narrator’s own letter-writing service in Hong Kong. Each letter is a concrete object that characters hold, fold, tear, or press against their chests. But the novel repeatedly shows that these objects are unreliable. They can be lost, intercepted, delayed, or deliberately withheld. The letter itself becomes a symbol of hope and connection, but also of fragility—a thin thread stretched across political borders that can snap at any moment.

Recurrence: Letters as Lifelines and Betrayals

The first major letter arrives in Chapter 12, when Uncle Sen hands Mom a letter from her husband, Xiao-Long, written on thick, high-quality stationery. The letter explains that the family has fled to Taiwan and urges them to follow. For Mom, this letter is a lifeline—proof that her husband is alive and that a reunion is possible. Yet the narrator notes that Father’s earlier letter to the shiheyuan never reached them, either lost by the mail service or intercepted by the Communists. That absence haunts the family: Father’s written words “couldn’t have fed us, sheltered us, or protected us,” as the narrator reflects. The letter that does arrive is both a promise and a reminder of abandonment.

Later, in Hong Kong, letters become a daily ritual. The family pays a letter writer at the post office each evening to send messages to Father in Taiwan—a “message in a bottle” cast into the sea of bureaucracy. These letters are desperate attempts to maintain a connection that feels increasingly tenuous. When Uncle Jian’s letter arrives at the end of April, it offers a concrete path to Taiwan through entry permits. But the narrator reads it “three times, not believing my eyes,” and Di immediately wants to tear it up, fearing that it will drag them back into a family that has already rejected them. The letter is a fragile peace treaty, as the narrator calls it, but also a source of conflict.

The most destructive letter comes from Nai Nai, who writes to say that Father has met a young nurse and plans to marry, telling them not to come. This letter shatters Mom’s hope and forces the family to accept abandonment. It is a weapon disguised as news. Later, Uncle Jian reveals that Nai Nai had intercepted letters—including, presumably, the one that might have reunited the family earlier. Letters, then, are not just carriers of information; they are tools of control and cruelty.

The Letter-Writing Business: Agency and Survival

In Chapter 25, a British welfare officer, Ms. Anita, brings paper and an inkstone, encouraging the narrator to start a letter-writing service. Setting up near the post office with Lan, the narrator earns enough to buy paper and treats. This is a turning point: letters become a means of economic survival and personal agency. The narrator, who had been denied schooling and whose callus from writing had faded, rediscovers her voice through writing for others. She writes to Mrs. Ding, telling her about the journey and asking for news of Lucky and Uncle Sen. This act of writing is a way to maintain connections to the past and to assert her own identity in a world that devalues daughters.

The letter-writing business also highlights the fragility of communication. The narrator must borrow postage money from Biao-Wu to mail her letter. She uses scrap paper from Officer Li to save money. Every letter is a luxury, and every delivery is uncertain. The act of writing becomes a lifeline not only for the narrator but for the refugees around her, who rely on her to send their own messages across borders.

Meaning Shifts: From Hope to Betrayal to Resilience

Initially, letters symbolize hope—the possibility of reunion and a better life. Father’s letter from Qingdao promises that the family is safe in Taiwan and that they should follow. Mom clings to this hope, even as the narrator doubts it. Later, Uncle Jian’s letters offer a concrete path to Taiwan, and Mom holds the letter against her chest “as though it could sustain her heartbeat with its proximity.” But hope is repeatedly undercut. Nai Nai’s letter turns hope into betrayal, and the narrator’s own skepticism grows. She reads Uncle Jian’s letter “as though it were a bomb,” aware that it could either save or destroy them.

By the end of the novel, letters have transformed into symbols of resilience. The narrator’s letter-writing business is a form of survival and self-determination. When she finally reaches Taiwan, she has learned that letters are not guarantees—they are fragile threads that require effort, trust, and luck to hold. The novel suggests that connection across borders is never secure; it must be actively maintained, and even then, it can be severed by the whims of others.

Character and Theme Connections

Letters are deeply tied to the novel’s themes of displacement and refugee survival. In Hong Kong, the family’s daily trip to the post office is a ritual of hope, but also a reminder of their powerlessness. The letters they send are like messages in bottles, cast into an indifferent sea. The theme of gender discrimination is also present: the narrator’s letter-writing business is one of the few ways a girl can earn money and gain a measure of independence. It is a small rebellion against a world that sees daughters as disposable.

The characters’ relationships to letters reveal their personalities. Mom is the optimist, clinging to every letter as proof that her family will be reunited. Di is the skeptic, ready to tear up Uncle Jian’s letter because she refuses to trust the Angs again. The narrator is caught between them, using letters both to survive and to maintain her own connections. Nai Nai uses letters as weapons, and Uncle Jian uses them as lifelines. Father’s absence is marked by the absence of letters—he never writes directly, and his silence speaks louder than any words.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does the father’s letter in Chapter 12 both offer hope and reinforce abandonment?

The letter from Xiao-Long, delivered by Uncle Sen, tells the family that the Angs have fled to Taiwan and urges them to follow. It offers hope that they can reunite. However, the narrator notes that Father’s earlier letter to the shiheyuan never arrived, and that his written words “couldn’t have fed us, sheltered us, or protected us.” The letter thus highlights Father’s choice to leave them behind, and the narrator interprets his claim of “no time” as “no will.” The letter is a lifeline, but it also exposes the fragility of family bonds.

2. Why does Di want to tear up Uncle Jian’s letter in Chapter 26?

Di is furious because Nai Nai’s earlier letter told them not to come, and she believes the family has rejected them. Uncle Jian’s letter offers a path to Taiwan, but Di sees it as a trap that would force them back into a family that has already abandoned them. She says, “Mom wanted to go to Taiwan, but that was before they told us they didn’t want us.” Her reaction shows that letters can be sources of conflict, not just hope, and that trust is easily broken.

3. How does the narrator’s letter-writing business change her relationship to letters?

Initially, letters are something she receives or sends with difficulty. When she starts her business, letters become a source of income and agency. She writes for others, earning money to buy paper and treats. This allows her to reconnect with her own desire to write and to maintain connections to people like Mrs. Ding. The business transforms letters from passive objects of hope into active tools of survival, giving the narrator a sense of purpose and independence.

4. What role do intercepted letters play in the novel’s portrayal of communication across borders?

Intercepted letters—like the one Father sent to the shiheyuan, or the ones Nai Nai hides—show that communication is never secure. The novel suggests that political borders and family politics can sever even the most heartfelt messages. Nai Nai’s interception of letters delays the family’s reunion and causes unnecessary suffering. This underscores the fragility of lifelines across borders: a letter can be lost, delayed, or deliberately withheld, and the consequences can be devastating.

Conclusion

In Daughters of Shandong, letters are more than plot devices; they are symbols of the precariousness of hope and connection in a world fractured by war and displacement. They carry the weight of promises, betrayals, and resilience. From the father’s letter in Qingdao to the entry-permit letters from Uncle Jian, and from the narrator’s letter-writing service to the intercepted notes that shape the family’s fate, letters embody the fragile lifelines that bind people across borders—and the ease with which those lifelines can be cut.