China Rich Girlfriend

“The Lius […] were Corinna’s favorite type of clients—Red Royals, she called them. Unlike fresh-off-the-boat Mainlander millionaires, these heirs of China’s ruling class—known in China s fuerdai, or ‘second-generation-rich’—had good manners and good teeth, and had never known the deprivation of their parents’ generation. The tragedies of the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution were ancient history as far as they were concerned. Obscene gobs of money had come easily to them, so obscene gobs they were ready to part with.”

This passage demonstrates how Kwan works modern cultural attitudes into the novel, showing the contrasts between generations, class, and perceptions of established families toward immigrants. The dry, slightly satiric narrative voice is also characteristic. The contrast between the spending behaviors of those with old money versus those with new money is a running motif of the book, and this passage, like the previous one, notes the hardships of recent history that have shaped certain generations. Kwan adds a footnote to explain that “fresh off the boat” is a term Asians use to refer to other Asians who have immigrated, “mainly by second-, third-, or fourth-generation Asian Americans to denote their superiority” (37). Kwan’s observation of subtle class prejudices among the higher echelons of Singapore, Hong Kong, and Chinese society is one of the more biting satires on offer.

“Beginning on the first day of the Chinese New Year, Singaporeans participate in a most unique ritual. All over the island, people frantically dash around to the homes of family and friends to offer New Year greetings, exchange ang pows, and gobble down food. The first two days of the New Year are most crucial, and a strict protocol is observed.”

Kwan explains in a footnote that ang pow is the Hokkien term for “red packet,” the envelopes of money that are given to children and unmarried young adults for the New Year. The envelopes contain cash, and the footnote goes on to explain how the event can induce greed and competitive giving. This passage illustrates Kwan’s discussion of certain Asian customs and attitudes in a way that can educate those unfamiliar with their cultural significance, and again exemplifies the omniscient narrator’s dry, funny narrative voice, occasionally intruded on or overlapped with Kwan’s first-person references in the footnotes.

“Here [Rachel] was, a girl who had grown up never knowing her father. As much as she detested Eleanor Young, she couldn’t help but feel sad that Nick had become so estranged from his mother. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she hated that she was part of why it happened.”

Rachel’s observation of the rift she helped cause between Nick and his mother touches on the novel’s theme of family and the clash between generations when certain traditions, expectations, or cultural beliefs are not met.

“The difference between you and me is that I don’t require all that much. I don’t need a yacht or a plane or a huge estate. I spent half my life in houses that were far too big, and it’s such a relief to live the way I do in New York. I’m perfectly content with my life just the way it is.”

Nick’s response to Jacqueline Ling when she advises him to make up with Su Yi exemplifies his own stance toward wealth, which offers a grounded perspective of sufficiency that few other characters in the novel share. While Jacqueline voices the opinion that Nick should do everything possible to retain his status as the presumed heir to Tyersall Park, Nick’s satisfaction with his life stems from fulfilling work and relationships, part of the novel’s interrogation of Real Value Versus Net Worth.

“Ever since Mrs. Singh lost interest in counting her carats and began spending more time in India studying Vedic scriptures, her daughter-in-law Sarita—a former minor Bollywood actress—had taken over the [annual jewelry tea party], and the homey ladies’ tea party evolved into a high-profile charity exhibition to raise money for whatever happened to be Sarita’s cause du jour.”

With gentle humor, this passage brings up several themes of the novel: the idea that wealth cannot replace spiritual concerns or fulfillment (Real Value Versus Net Worth), the difference in generational attitudes toward wealth (The Importance of Image and Status), and the frank enjoyment of wealth compared to those who are pretentious about it or pretend to other priorities. The hint at the daughter-in-law’s former profession also touches on the theme of Social Climbing Versus Acceptance examined through Kitty Pong’s character arc.

“While the crowd at Christie’s might appreciate a good floor show, Hong Kong society does not. Your actions over the past few months are seen as nothing but blatant attempts to buy your way into the right crowd. Now, many people have done just that, but there’s a right way to do it, and there’s a wrong way.”

Continuing the discussion of Social Climbing Versus Acceptance, Corinna lays out the prejudices of high society or old money that Kitty is up against in her efforts to become a social leader in Hong Kong. Through Corinna, Kwan lightly mocks the gate-keeping efforts of certain factions and the construction of standards used to create outsiders and protect insiders, reinforcing structures of social and economic power.

“As they walked through the lush gardens toward one of the private cottage suites, Rachel felt as though she were floating through some strange, nebulous dream. Time seemed to have sped up, and everything seemed so unreal. It was all too bright, too tropical for such a momentous occasion.”

Though the tone of the novel is for the most part bright and the subject matter frothy, there are moments of emotional heft, as in the storyline of Rachel meeting her father. This sudden revelation about her family will change the way Rachel is perceived in the eyes of Nick’s family, or at least his mother, showing the obsession with family as a social status symbol. That she meets her father at an expensive hotel is one example of the lavish environs that provide the setting for so many key events within the novel.

“Eleanor […] chose Wee Nam Kee specifically because the United Square location is only five minutes from the Bao condo, and parking there is $2.00 after 6:00 p.m. If she took him to Chatterbox, which she personally prefers, parking at Mandarin Hotel would have been a nightmare and she would have had to valet her Jaguar for $15. Which she would RATHER DIE than do.”

This passage exemplifies the way Kwan uses footnotes throughout the novel, sometimes to clarify but more often for satiric commentary or to hilarious effect. This one explains that kai fun is Hainanese chicken rice, “which could arguably be considered the national dish of Singapore” (135), before going on to poke fun at Eleanor’s spending habits. While she chooses to spend money on her home and clothing, which convey her status to others, Eleanor can be excessively thrifty about transportation, accommodation, or other services, speaking to the novel’s discussion of Real Value Versus Net Worth.

“Like so many of her generation, [Eleanor’s] entire existence revolved around the acquisition and preservation of fortune. It seemed like all her friends were in the same contest to see who could leave the most houses, the biggest conglomerates, and the fattest stock portfolios to their children after they died.”

Nick’s observation about his mother’s attitude toward her wealth reflects his understanding of his mother’s character, but also his distance from this the mindset exhibited by Eleanor and other characters, who are engaged in a competition to display status and their net worth, as if that is a reflection of their value as people. In contrast, Nick values people by their character, not their fortune.

“The China of Nick’s childhood bore no resemblance to the incredible sights that surrounded him in every direction now. Shanghai was a vast, sprawling megalopolis on the banks of the Huangpu River, the ‘Paris of the East,’ where hyperbole-defying skyscrapers vied for attention with stately early-twentieth-century European façades.”

This peek into the recent development and powerful economic growth in China, following the lead of other countries in the region, reflects the novel’s concern with educating readers about modern Asia, puncturing the stereotypes of China as being backward, provincial, or lagging behind the rest of the world. The ability of Shanghai to rival Paris exemplifies how the West is still held up as a standard, while the reference to 20th-century European façades hints at the history of colonization, which is one reason these stereotypes still hold.

“Colette is not Araminta 2.0. Araminta is essentially a Singapore girl—she can glam it up when she wants to, but she’s equally comfortable hanging out in yoga sweats and eating fresh coconut on the beach. Colette’s a whole other advanced species yet to be classified. I think she’ll either be running China or Hollywood in a few years.”

Nick’s humorous response as he and Rachel discuss their new friend shows the novel’s interest in ambitious women and its portrayal of how the younger generation behaves. Araminta, the wife of Nick’s friend Colin, is ambitious but, in Nick’s view, not pretentious, much like Rachel. Nick senses that Colette is much more intentional about constructing her persona, as well as ambitious for influence, which will turn out to be an accurate assessment.

“The imposing oxidized maple-wood doors opened, and they found themselves in a serene inner courtyard almost entirely composed of a dark, shallow reflecting pool. A travertine walkway ran down the middle of the pool toward tall lacquered doors the color of espresso, and bamboo block plantings ran along the walls of the courtyard. The lacquered doors parted silently as the three of them approached, revealing the inner sanctum.”

This passage as Carlton, Rachel, and Nick enter Colette’s house provides an example of the frequent descriptions of elegant or luxurious settings, an immersion in decadence that is one of the novel’s more pleasurable aspects. The aesthetic of the room is ultra-modern, emphasizing China’s modernity, but the darkness and mystery also hint at the ways the ultra-rich enjoy and protect their privilege.

“I don’t think she really gave a damn about the apology, quite honestly. All she needed to hear was you admitting that you come from some shitty village in China. She needed to feel superior to you.”

As she coaches Kitty through her staged apology to Ava Poon, a leader of Hong Kong society, Corinna unveils the prejudice that is at the core of the competition for rank and status. The novel suggests that, as in most societies, those who have already arrived at a certain rank are eager to shut out those scrambling for entry.

“Teo takes me on a tour of his exclusive booty. On the ground-floor gallery, samurai swords from the Edo period and a massive cannon from the Napoleonic War are displayed alongside his sparklingly restored Porsches, Ferraris, and Aston Martins.”

The reporter writing the magazine feature on Michael touches on the theme of Real Value Versus Net Worth. Michael, who thinks he has earned his newfound wealth, is eager to display it, and chooses typically masculine and possibly tasteless items to show off. While the article plays on public interest in the very wealthy, it also proves an embarrassing portrait, subtly reinforcing the lines of taste and class that arbiters of “society” try to draw.

“Arrayed before them was a honshao rou—thick slices of fatty pork in a sweet marinade with green peppers; jiang ya—braised duck leg covered in thick, sweetened soy sauce; jiuyang caotou—seasonal vegetables stir-fried in fragrant wine; ganshao changyu—deep-friend whole promfret; and yandu xian—a typically Shanghainese soup of bamboo shoots, pressed tofu, salted ham, and fresh pork.”

China Rich Girlfriend continues a theme in Crazy Rich Asians of showcasing regional foods in distinct and varied detail (See: Symbols & Motifs). While food is often used to indicate status, it is more often used to bring people together across social strata. Here, a sophisticated crowd has made trendy a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with very humble surroundings, all because the food is home-style cooking—another of the novel’s many, small satires on modern life.

“[Mum is] someone who’s used to a very orderly way of life, and she’s spent so many years planning things out perfectly. Like the company. And Dad’s career. She really has been the force behind his political rise, and now she’s trying to propel my future as well. My accident was a huge setback in her eyes, and she’s so afraid that any more scratches to that façade will destroy everything she’s planned for me.”

Carlton’s explanation to Rachel of his mother’s concerns about Rachel’s entry into the lives of the Bao family touches on another motif of the novel: the ambitious woman. Like other female characters in the book, Bao Shaoyen is the architect of her family, driving growth, planning their future, and carefully maintaining their image. Bao Shaoyen has a PhD in biochemistry and essentially runs their multi-billion-dollar company (373), a contrast to the idle rich who pretend interest in charities performatively. Carlton admires his mother’s drive but goes against his culture’s tradition of filial piety, as did Nick, in wanting to carve his own path.

“For many Shanghainese who had been born in Puxi—the historic city center—the glittering new metropolis on the other side of the river called Pudong would never be part of the real Shanghai. ‘Puxi is like Pu-York, but Pudong will always be Pu-Jersey,’ the cognoscenti snidely remarked.”

This reflection on the recent development of Shanghai is more evidence of the novel’s satiric study of snobbery and prejudice, particularly the attitudes of those with established fortunes toward the newly wealthy. This particular prejudice is again built on a comparison with the West, specifically New York City, where the rich elite look down on sprawling suburbs like New Jersey, considering them historically and culturally inferior.

“At the Palace of Versailles at the end of a business trip, [Jack Bing] delighted in stumbling upon a small exhibition devoted to Chinese antiquities in the court of Louis XIV. He was admiring a portrait of the Emperor Qianlong in a small gallery tucked behind the Hall of Mirrors when a large tour group of Chinese tourists crowded into the space. A man in head-to-toe Stefano Ricci pointed at the portrait of the emperor dressed in a Manchu-style fur cap and murmured excitedly, ‘Genghis Khan! Genghis Khan!’ Jack left the gallery hastily, afraid he might be associated with this group of ignorant Chinese. Imagine these heathens not knowing of their greatest emperors, who ruled for more than sixty years!”

Though Jack Bing says he is the son of a fisherman, his interest in Versailles and his annoyance toward countrymen who are ignorant of their own history signal his ambitions to join the cultural elite. This wish to be seen as sophisticated is echoed and enforced by his daughter. While Jack admires the treasures of the West, the portrait of the estimable Chinese emperor Qianlong (Qing Dynasty, 1735-1896) likewise exhibits Western fascination with what is considered the “exotic” east. Humorously, the Chinese tourist, displaying himself in an Italian luxury brand, misidentifies the portrait as the ambitious Mongol conqueror Genghis Khan (circa 1162-1227), showing no better grasp of Asian history than the average Westerner. The disdain that ultra-wealthy Asians feel for noisy, vulgar Asian tourists is a motif throughout the novel.

“I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation! Why did you send me to the most progressive schools in England if all you expected out of me was to get married at such a young age? Why did I bother studying so hard at Regent’s? I have so many goals, so many things I want to accomplish before I become anyone’s wife.”

In protesting her parents’ wish that she marry and provide them with a grandchild, Colette expresses the exasperation of the young generation, afforded privilege and opportunity, at being expected to conform to the traditional gender norms adhered to by their elders. Like their lack of interest in thrift, the insistence of the younger generations on personal freedom represents a contrast with the older generations, who see wealth as an investment in their family rather than a luxury to be enjoyed.

“Carved out of natural virgin jungle in 1930, the undulating green hills [of Pulau Club] gave way to tropical groves of casuarinas and tembusus on one side and the oasis-like Peirce Reservoir on the other. Not a hint of the densely packed skyscrapers that were modern Singapore could be seen from this vantage point.”

While reveling in the beautiful settings that the wealthy are able to create, the novel also hints, if subtly, at the contrast with how other sections of society live. Here, the beautiful settings of the golf club—a leisure pursuit borrowed from the West and imported into this area graced with native trees on a stretch of land devoted to the pleasure of the very rich in one of the most densely populated countries on earth—demonstrates how the ultra-wealthy create exclusive spaces for themselves insulated from the rest of the world.

“‘Remember when I was teaching in Chengdu in 2002? The place where I roomed had one communal indoor toilet, and that was considered a luxury.’

‘Ha! You wouldn’t recognize Chengdu now. It’s become the Silicon Valley of China—one fifth of the world’s computers are made there.’”

This exchange between Rachel and her friend and college roommate, Peik Lin, who is from Singapore, adds to the novel’s discussion of China’s swift economic development. Rachel’s experience of teaching in Chengdu shows how her experience of Asia, as an American, is limited. Peik Lin’s family is part of those both driving and benefiting from Southeast Asia’s economic transformation, but while her family’s preference for gaudy excess was mocked in Crazy Rich Asians, Peik Lin belongs to the set of characters who have a moral compass and are able to have rewarding relationships, showing that she is able to retain grounded values despite her family’s wealth.

“Sometimes I wish I could just pack a bag and move to California, where no one knows me and no one cares. Cassian can grow up far away from all the pressures he’s going to have to start facing very soon. And I would be perfectly happy, I swear to God, living in a beach shack.”

Astrid, the character who has always moved most fluidly among the world of international wealth, a figure of elegance and understated glamor, expresses an opinion close to Nick’s about needing little and being self-sufficient. Astrid is a foil to Colette in her stance toward her wealth and influence. Astrid’s arc throughout the novel explores the detrimental impact that wealth can have on family and personal relationships, as coming into money changes the values and fundamental personality of her husband, Michael. This wish also hints at Astrid’s character arc in the third novel in the trilogy, Rich People Problems.

“Since the cemetery had stopped accepting burials in 1970, the forest had grown unchecked around it, making this final resting place of Singapore’s founding fathers a lush, Edenic nature preserve for some of the rarest plants and wildlife on the island. Astrid loved meandering and admiring the ornate graves that were unlike anywhere else in the world […] every now and then, she recognized the name of a pioneer Singaporean […] they were all here.”

The Young family’s visit to Bukit Brown cemetery is a way for Kwan to include history about Singapore and its more unusual features, like the many styles of architecture in the graveyard, the many deities referenced in the decorations, and the names of important citizens. The cemetery is a way to demonstrate the Young family’s history on the island and also suggest how the very rich are exclusive and set apart. Astrid is accustomed to moving among the powerful and wealthy, unlike other characters like Kitty who are eagerly hoping to join those ranks.