The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
Rating: 13+— Discussions of sex, sexuality, and sexual assault (although never in a graphic manner)
I was perusing the brightly-colored shelves of a local bookstore when I first picked up The Good Earth. Its bright yellow spine caught my attention, as well as the beautiful art on its cover. I know it’s in bad taste to judge a book by its cover, but I was drawn in nonetheless. I was surprised to see it was both a Pulitzer Prize winner and was written by a Nobel Prize-winning author. I could not understand how, for all its awards, I had never heard of it or its writer, and became even more intrigued when I read the back cover. As I was checking out, the lady who rang me up glanced at the title, cheerfully stating, “Oh this is a great book!” as she carefully placed it in a bag.
Later, as I was reading the novel in the car, my mom asked what book I was reading. When I held up the cover, her eyes lit up. “The Good Earth!” she exclaimed. She had read it before she started her freshman year of high school and described how it was one of those books where she could still remember the time and place where she was reading it—down to what her room looked like as she paged through the story.
With all this said, you are perhaps wondering if The Good Earth lived up to the hype given by the bookstore worker and my mom. Needless to say, it was a great book—one that I do think everyone should read.
The Good Earth was written by Pearl S. Buck, a writer and an amazing humanitarian, and it was published in 1931. Though not Chinese herself, Buck was the daughter of missionaries and spent her childhood in China, becoming familiar with the people and culture. In addition to other humanitarian causes, she was a strong supporter of both the Women’s Rights and Civil Rights Movements. She received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1938, making her the first American woman to receive both the Nobel Prize and the Pulitzer Prize. She founded the Pearl S. Buck Foundation, which is now Pearl S. Buck International. More information about the organization can be found here: https://pearlsbuck.org/about/what-we-do/
Buck’s novel, The Good Earth, follows the life of Wang Lung, a farmer in rural China in the early twentieth century. Through marriage, famine, prosperity, and hardship, the reader follows Wang Lung throughout his many trials and victories as he strives for survival and wealth.
The Good Earth covers a plethora of topics: It depicts the culture and struggles of life in twentieth-century rural China, the hardships of women, the dangers of wealth, and most importantly, the necessity of land. The land grounds the story (if you’ll pardon the pun). Whenever Wang Lung turns to the land, he prospers, but as he grows distant from it, there are unexpected consequences. The “good earth” keeps one sustained, but being swept away by cultural concerns or riches ultimately detracts from one’s life.
The prose of the story is beautiful. Buck is an excellent writer, and while the writing is straightforward, I would not say it is as blunt and bare as, for example, Ernest Hemingway. There are not long passages filled with flowery and rich descriptions, but what Buck does describe captures the imagination. Besides Buck’s writing style, I appreciated this work as a chance to learn more about China. I am far less familiar with Chinese history and culture than I am with that of Western countries’, and I enjoyed seeing the changing landscape of the country from the perspective of this Chinese family. Though Buck was not Chinese, her work demonstrates a clear knowledge, respect, and empathy for China and its people.
The narrative does begin slowly, but I strongly recommend sticking with it. You’ll become invested in the characters, and once larger events happen, the story smooths into an excellent rhythm. Though told from Wang Lung’s perspective, we are afforded glimpses into the lives of his family and the people around them. Buck expertly juggles these many characters, giving them life even if they are briefly mentioned.
My edition also came with a helpful introduction, as well as some really interesting back matter, such as photographs of the telegram sent to Buck that announced she had won the Nobel Prize, as well as a collage of all the different covers of The Good Earth from throughout the years.
Overall, I highly recommend this novel and encourage you to add this to your TBR (to be read) pile as soon as you can.
Keep reading if you’d like to hear my more detailed, but spoiler-filled, thoughts!
Spoilers Ahead:
When the novel begins, Wang Lung is a poor farmer who can only look on in wonder at what seems to be the immeasurable wealth of the House of Hwang, feeling ashamed of his poverty. Yet the story demonstrates over and over the dangers of prosperity and wealth: how it makes families grow quarrelsome, indolent, and petty; how they begin to mistreat those they perceive as beneath them. Perhaps the most powerful moment of the entire book is contained within its final lines:
“If you sell the land, it is the end.”
And his two sons held him, one on either side, each holding his arm, and he held tight in his hand the warm loose earth. And they soothed him and they said over and over, the elder son and the second son,
“Rest assured, our father, rest assured. The land is not to be sold.”
But over the old man’s head they looked at each other and smiled. (Buck 357)
Now the story has come full circle. The powerful House of Hwang, which Wang Lung once envied, fell to infighting among its sons and became lost once they sold their land. Now Wang Lung has taken their home and achieved great wealth–but his sons and their families fight among themselves, and with Wang Lung’s sons discussing the selling of the land, readers can feel the oncoming downfall of Wang Lung’s family as certainly as he can.
Besides Buck’s expert parallels, I appreciate the stance she takes against the mistreatment of women. Buck is blunt in her depictions of the hardships and low status endured by women of this culture and period. When a girl is born, she is not celebrated–instead, she is simply described as a “slave.” However, I admire Buck’s subtle ways of demonstrating the inherent wrongness of women being reduced to property, who are appreciated only for their beauty and the ability to bear sons. O-Lan is arguably the best character in the story. She is loyal, kind, and a tireless worker who does all she can to support her family. She even gives Wang Lung three sons, meaning she has fulfilled her role as a wife and then some. When Wang Lung casts her aside for the younger, beautiful Lotus, the reader keenly feels her grief, her horror when she realizes that she has become ugly in her husband’s eyes. Although she culturally has done everything expected of the perfect wife—tending to her family, completing household tasks, and bearing sons—she still is unable to earn her husband’s love or appreciation. When she dies, it leaves a gaping hole in the story, for while she is often cruelly described as a dumb animal, O-Lan is the true heart of the narrative.
Moreover, though O-Lan promises Wang Lung she will bind their youngest daughter’s feet, Buck does not express favor towards this painful practice, which involved breaking the toes and arch of a girl’s foot before wrapping it in bandages. This was done to achieve a tiny foot. Such small feet were seen as beautiful, and the smaller the feet, the more sexually desirable the girl. Wang Lung often disparages O-Lan for her “big feet,” and so she agrees to begin binding their daughter’s feet. However, at one point in the story, Wang Lung encounters his little daughter openly weeping from the terrible pain, indicating to readers the awful toll this custom took on the girls and women who endured it.
Women and girls are also forced into a state of stagnation. When Wang Lung becomes wealthy enough, he forbids O-Lan to help in the fields, because it indicates that he is poor if he must make his wife work. Thus, O-Lan becomes confined to the household. The other women who join the family similarly stay in their courts within the confines of the house, and have little to do except bicker amongst one another, as it is improper for them to leave their home. The irony is that when women are poor, they endure back-breaking labor to survive, but when they are rich, they are expected to do nothing and become bored and ill-tempered.
Yet even wealth cannot fully protect women from being preyed upon by depraved men. Wang Lung sends his youngest daughter away to be looked after by her fiancé’s family, all because he knows he cannot protect her from being raped by his nephew. Poor women are especially vulnerable to being carried off by bandits or soldiers, and servant women must rely upon the kindness of their masters to avoid being given into sexual servitude. Wang Lung is not a perfect man, but he insists on protecting their female servants, and forbids his sons from assaulting them. Although he considers giving a pretty young servant girl, Pear Blossom, to his lecherous nephew, Wang Lung relents when the girl begs to be spared. Yet even for his kindness, Wang Lung still participates in the culture of taking advantage of these powerless girls. He takes Pear Blossom as a lover, although she is much younger. Even though Pear Blossom says that she appreciates Wang Lung’s kindness, she explains it is because she hates young men. Her decision is clearly rooted in trauma. And while Wang Lung becomes obsessed with Lotus, eventually making her his wife, the grim reality is that Lotus was originally sold into prostitution because of her beauty.
Therefore, the women in this narrative all endure their own forms of suffering—sufferings that are ultimately rooted in their gender. Though Buck presents their realities as a fact and a product of their culture, she never validates these practices as correct or justified. By displaying the pain and trauma caused by women being viewed as inferiors, Buck demonstrates that these cultural mores are deeply flawed. So while I admire how Buck masterfully discusses politics, disparities of wealth, and family dynamics in The Good Earth, what I appreciated most was the feminism that was discreetly tucked away in the pages of a story told from a male perspective.
