Madeleine Thien

Do Not Say We Have Nothing

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Winner of the Scotiabank Giller Prize and the Governor General's Literary Award
Finalist for the Booker Prize and the Baileys Women's Prize for Fiction
“A powerfully expansive novel…Thien writes with the mastery of a conductor.” —New York Times Book Review

“In a single year, my father left us twice. The first time, to end his marriage, and the second, when he took his own life. I was ten years old.”
Master storyteller Madeleine Thien takes us inside an extended family in China, showing us the lives of two successive generations—those who lived through Mao’s Cultural Revolution and their children, who became the students protesting in Tiananmen Square. At the center of this epic story are two young women, Marie and Ai-Ming. Through their relationship Marie strives to piece together the tale of her fractured family in present-day Vancouver, seeking answers in the fragile layers of their collective story. Her quest will unveil how Kai, her enigmatic father, a talented pianist, and Ai-Ming’s father, the shy and brilliant composer, Sparrow, along with the violin prodigy Zhuli were forced to reimagine their artistic and private selves during China’s political campaigns and how their fates reverberate through the years with lasting consequences.
With maturity and sophistication, humor and beauty, Thien has crafted a novel that is at once intimate and grandly political, rooted in the details of life inside China yet transcendent in its universality.
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646 printed pages
Original publication
2016
Publication year
2016
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Quotes

  • finalfadeouthas quoted9 months ago
    Many lives and many selves might exist, but that doesn’t render each variation false.
  • finalfadeouthas quoted9 months ago
    She was still so young but why did she already look so empty?
  • finalfadeouthas quoted9 months ago
    Big Mother had told her that in the early 1960s, Conservatory students had been sent out to the fields to wage war. They played their instruments loudly and dissonantly from morning until night so that no little birds could land in the fields and eat the grain. Day after day, thousands of sparrows, killed by exhaustion, had fallen dead from the sky. “Yet another solicitous idea from Chairman Mao,” Big Mother had said solemnly. “Who said Western music never killed anyone?”
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