From one Vagrant to another

**UPDATE 4/10/09: Full review now available here.**

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Sometimes I have a hard time seeing myself as I really am. 

This week, I'm reading a new book (March 09) called The Vagrants by Yiyun Li. It's a beautifully written novel set in China circa the Cultural Revolution, about a motley group of characters whose lives are changed by the execution of one young counterrevolutionary. 

It's a hard book to read in places, because it deals bluntly with ugly humans and some cringe-inducing things. But it's incredibly moving as well. 

I'll probably write a full review of it when I'm finished, so stay tuned, but in the meantime, I was struck by a passage that pointed me again to the way I relate to God--as if I'm perpetually broken, only daydreaming of being loved. 

Nini is a cripple, a burden to her parents, born that way after her mother was savagely beaten while pregnant. The parents of the attacker once showed compassion for Nini and took her into their house, but no more. Now their daughter is dead, and everything has changed.

The wish had become a dream that sometimes lasted for hours or days, in which Nini pictured herself living with the Gus. Misunderstandings would occur [...] But they would never speak a harsh word or cast a look of suspicion at her; they knew she was innocent [...] but the mere thought of disappointing Teacher Gu and Mrs. Gu drove Nini to tears. She would pinch herself or bite herself on the useless part of her body [...] sooner or later they would discover the marks and bruises on her body, and this would hurt their hearts more than it had hurt her body. [...] Nini would push them away and pinch and bite herself harder because she was not worthy of their love. Didn't they know that she was so ugly she would rather die [...] 

I do that so well. Push people away. Push God away. Believe the world's description of me, not His. But the story continues, even in this daydream world: 

The moment would come when, in gentle yet firm words, Mrs. Gu and Teacher Gu would forbid her to hurt herself again. She was not ugly at all, they would tell her, embracing her when she did not resist. They loved her, they would say, and in their eyes she was as precious as a jewel. She would not believe their words, but they would tell her again and again, until she softened and cried.

Isn't it beautiful? 

Unfortunately, this is only about a third of the way into the book, so the daydream ends, and the raw pain of scarred and ugly humans takes over again. But it's a great reminder that on a cosmic scale, the end is already written. 

Read the book. Tell me what you think! More to come when I finish it...