Wendy Law-Yone skillfully mixes elements of biography, memoir, political history, and even genealogical investigation into her remarkable account of growing up in post-colonial Burma, followed by exile and life in America. Golden Parasol is often wry, understated, and funny; it is also a lyric remembrance of a lost childhood and a country that lost its freedom when the promise of independence collapsed into decades of xenophobic military dictatorship.
The figure who dominates much of the book is her father, Edward Law-Yone, a larger-than-life character who knew virtually everyone — Burmese, Asian, and Westerner — as editor of the newspaper The Nation. Still, he ignored all the normal political red lines in his stalwart, passionate, and uncompromising advocacy of democracy and denunciation of corruption. Needless to say, neither stance endeared him to the ruling elites, political and military, notably the insecure and ultimately paranoid Ne Win, who finally imprisoned and then exiled Edward and his family.
Even Wendy, a newlywed trying to escape the country, was arrested and subjected to interrogation. As she later learns, Ne Win’s motives for targeting Ed Law-Yone may have been personal as well as political: Law-Yone was a confident and close friend to Ne Win’s unhappy and unfaithful wife.
After his release, Edward Law-Yone struggled to organize a bewildering array of political dissidents and ethnic minorities into a rebel alliance that ultimately failed to develop a political-military strategy that could unseat the Ne Win dictatorship.
Wendy Law-Yone carefully, and necessarily, untangles the web of Burmese political connections and rivalries in deliberately neutral prose, then shifts to more evocation language as, for example, she remembers the magic of being taken to her father’s newspaper office at night:
… hurricane lamps flaring weakly under a darkening sky. The night-market vendors would be setting up their cart and stall under swinging kerosene lanterns. Drink hawkers would be cranking out sugar-cane juice through hand-turned presses and shaving off blocks of ice for the tall frappes of red and green syrups with thick condensed milk…. But once I crossed the threshold of the front entrance, the smells of ink and lead and newsprint were rich and soothing.
Law-Yone traces her family’s life in America, as well as her own role as a daughter, sister, mother — and writer. But the highlight of the last quarter of the book is the exploration of her family origins, namely of her two grandfathers. One was Chinese, who emigrated to Burma; the other English, who served in the British Army and Burma police.
On an exhausting journalism assignment along the track of the storied Burma Road In Yunan Province, Law-Yone describes a moving reunion with members of her long-departed grandfather Tong Chi-fan’s family. And exhaustive newspaper and library research reveals the colorful but checkered career of Eric Percy-Smith, who eventually left Burma to found an animal preserve in Kenya.
Golden Parasol tells the story of two remarkable lives, father and daughter, coupled with the portrayal of a country still struggling for a future worthy of its people and heritage.