Member Review

In "How We Disappeared," Lee brings to life the history, atrocities and unimaginable hardships of thousands of women during the Japanese colonization of Singapore in the 1940s through Wang Di, a young girl violently ripped from her family and village and forced to become a sex slave ("comfort woman") to the Japanese soldiers for three long, dark years. In addition to "servicing" upwards of 7+ men per day, Di and others in the "black and white house" are starved, beaten, mentally and physically abused and imprisoned by a madam in the name of service to the Japanese Army. Her survival and escape with an infant boy in tow is a testament to sheer determination and an indominable will to survive, though for what she does not yet know. Later, the intersection of Wang Di's life with that of her husband, who suffers his own terrible losses during the war years, and the ties to her husband's previous family (Wang Di is her husband's second wife; his first wife and child are murdered in the 4-3 massacre) is well-done and provides a robust and fulsome rendering of what life must have been like for both the "comfort women" and common citizens of Singapore during the Japanese occupation of this strategically-situated island nation. I knew embarrassingly little about this subject, which, given how much historical fiction is written about WWII is surprising. (But as a result of this book, I have added more on this topic to my TBR pile.)

Like other readers, I feel this book is an important read for several reasons, beginning with the necessary homage to and recognition of the plight that these women were forced to endure. Lee’s telling of the soldiers’ acts against these comfort women is shameful, shocking, heartbreaking and important to understand. If these women survived the comfort houses at all and were able (or willing) to return to their home villages, the shame, treatment, and social ousting they faced at home would drive most reasonable beings to the edge.

I'm torn on whether I felt that weaving Kevin's storyline in added or detracted from the novel. As Lee takes us to the “present,” in the 2000s when Wang Di is widowed and in her 70s, we learn that Kevin is the grandson of Wang Di’s now-deceased husband. And Kevin’s recently-deceased grandmother reveals her own wartime secrets on her deathbed, which Kevin records with a tape recorder. Her revelations drive him to seek out his biological grandfather, which leads him to Wang Di. At times, I found Kevin's story a bit disconcerting and drawing the connections between Wang Di and Kevin's father made for an arduous task in several places in the book. Even at the end, I found myself wondering what ever happened to the baby Wang Di (we think) gave up upon her escape from the comfort house. Perhaps I’m a less sophisticated reader, but the final pages wherein Lee provides three possible “stories” of what happened to Wang Di’s infant boy were far less illuminating than I was hoping for. Despite searching online for other reviewers who, like me, were unclear what the outcome and import of Wang Di’s baby was, I found nothing that led me to a definitive answer. Was Wang Di’s baby Kevin’s father? (Perhaps, but Wang Di herself shuts down that option several times in the book). Did Di’s baby die after their escape? What’s the tie between Wang Di’s baby to the rest of the story?

Despite this one flaw, I found Lee’s novel a searing, heartbreaking, yet important rendering of the lives of comfort women and the citizens of Singapore before, during and after WWII, as well as an enlightening account of Singapore’s geo-political and strategic importance to several world powers throughout history (including the United States). I gave this book 5 stars and will certainly recommend it to fellow readers interested in historical fiction, Asian history and stories that demonstrate the depth and strength of the human spirit.

Many thanks to Harlequin and NetGalley for an ARC of this book for an honest review. All opinions are my own.