"A Chinese Ishmael": Sui Sin Far, writing, and exile

As for Ku Yum's name, which one would naturally assume confers an identity upon her, White-Parks, in her biography of Sui Sin Far, offers substantial insight into its meaning:

   It is important to remember that in the Chinese language "Ku Yum" is not a
   name at all but a description, approximating a miserable person or someone
   in need of help--which in traditional China was virtually synonymous with a
   daughter.... That Sui Sin Far uses this description as a proper noun--it is
   the most common name for Chinese women and girls in her fiction--may
   indicate her feelings about what the plight of Chinese women has
   traditionally been. (88-89)

"Ku Yum," then, does not offer an identity, as names often do, but rather a description of the female Chinese condition. This method is a very biblical way of naming things. (6) For instance, Ishmael is named when Hagar runs away from Sarah: "And the angel of the LORD said unto her, Behold, thou art with child, and shalt bear a son, and shalt call his name Ishmael; because the LORD hath heard thy affliction" (Gen. 16.11). (7) Hagar and Ku Yum are outsiders, dwelling within a community in which they cannot fully participate. "Ku Yum," as a title, reduces the bearer of it to a relationship as subordinate and daughter, a double displacement. The fact that "Ku Yum" is the most popular description for Sui Sin Far's characters makes the title even less individualized, less unique. Ku Yum is more a figure, who represents what it means to be a female in Chinese-American culture, not a unique identity. The frequency of the name's use and the translation of the Chinese characters, distancing the words from their origin, are additional factors in the alienation Ku Yum symbolizes.

Leih Tseih, "the son of a high mandarin" (44), is a prodigal son who leaves his father's house never to return, but does reform his errant ways. Leih Tseih discloses his rebellious history to Ku Yum:

   I escaped punishment and followed a seafaring-man's life for several years.
   Then came shipwreck and drifting for days alone upon the mighty waters, and
   my soul at last was humbled; one solemn night, when naught could be heard
   save the washing of the waves against the side of my small boat, I
   acknowledged with sorrow to the Parent of All that I had indeed wandered
   far from the path of virtue. (44)

Leih Tseih is like Jonah, who flees to the sea in order to escape his responsibility and is saved only after he repents. Back on land, Leih Tseih is framed for Lum Choy's murder, making him a fugitive once more. Leih Tseih is perpetually outside the law in this story, even when his intentions are good and he is innocent. He runs from his father, a figure who has always been a symbol for the law itself; he goes to sea as a fugitive, placing him beyond the law of the land; and finally, when he returns to San Francisco, he must flee again, even though he is innocent of Lum Choy's death, returning to the sea once more, only this time with a mate.