The Interior (Liu Hulan Series #2)

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Overview

The Interior brings back the duo of Chinese police detective Liu Hulan and her lover, American attorney David Stark. This time, for Hulan, the case is alarmingly personal, unearthing her own buried past and a stunning network of violence and conspiracy.. "When an old friend from a village deep within China's interior asks Hulan to find out the truth about her daughter's suspicious suicide, Hulan cannot refuse - even if it means going undercover in a newly built American toy factory linked to David's firm and ...
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The Interior (Liu Hulan Series #2)

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Overview

The Interior brings back the duo of Chinese police detective Liu Hulan and her lover, American attorney David Stark. This time, for Hulan, the case is alarmingly personal, unearthing her own buried past and a stunning network of violence and conspiracy.. "When an old friend from a village deep within China's interior asks Hulan to find out the truth about her daughter's suspicious suicide, Hulan cannot refuse - even if it means going undercover in a newly built American toy factory linked to David's firm and finding her way into the heart of a dangerous mystery.. "Meanwhile, David's new job has him trapped in a tangle of legal and ethical dilemmas. To extricate himself, he must first decide whom to trust and where his greatest duty lies.
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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
As in her debut novel, Flower Net, the strength of See's work here is in her detailed and intimate knowledge of contemporary China, its mores, its peculiar mixture of the traditional and the contemporary, and its often bedeviled relationships with the U.S. Here again are American lawyer David Stark and his Chinese lover, police investigator Liu Hulan; they become involved in the issue of working conditions among women in an American-owned toy factory in rural China--a highly promising and original notion. Stark's law firm wants him to supervise the buyout of the American entrepreneur who launched the toy company, while Liu is called in by the mother of a factory worker who seems to have committed suicide. What actually happened to her, and why? It seems inevitable that the lovers will be pulled in different directions by their opposing interests, and soon Liu has introduced herself into the factory as a worker, while Stark's deal, important to his career, begins to unravel. So far, so good; but as the action becomes increasingly violent, with another girl's sudden death at the factory, gunplay, a deathly sick Liu struggling to survive, and a climactic fire that takes hundreds of lives (a calamity treated almost as an afterthought), it becomes apparent that See has plotting problems. Many story threads seem to disappear, the action scenes are stagy and unconvincing, and the David-Liu relationship never seems to generate much real warmth. A pity, because until the melodrama takes over, much here is original and fresh, an absorbing look at an unfamiliar world. Agent, Sandra Dijkstra. 6-city author tour. (Oct.) Copyright 1999 Cahners Business Information.
Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine
At the center of The Interior is Chinese police inspector Liu Hulan, who is beautiful, smart, and very serious about her work...But the fascination here is See's portrait of modern-day China and the people who have lived through so much in recent history.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780061097546
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 6/1/2000
  • Series: Liu Hulan Series, #2
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 512
  • Product dimensions: 4.20 (w) x 6.75 (h) x 1.17 (d)

Read an Excerpt

This morning, as every morning this summer in Beijing, Liu Hulan woke before dawn to the deafening sounds of drums, cymbals, gongs, and, worst of all, the horrible squeals of a suo-na, a many-piped wind instrument that resounded for blocks, maybe even miles. Competing to be heard over the instruments were the exuberant voices, cheers, and yelps of the Shisha Hutong Yang Ge Folk Dance and Music Troupe. This was the beginning of what would be a three-hour session, and this morning it appeared to be taking place directly outside Hulan's family compound.

Hulan hurriedly wrapped her silk robe around her, slipped on a pair of tennis shoes, and stepped outside onto the covered veranda outside her bedroom. Though it was only four, the air was already thick as custard with heat, humidity, and smog. Once the summer solstice passed, Beijingers prepared for the arrival of Xiao Shu, or Slight Heat Days. But this year Da Shu, Great Heat, had come early. This past week had seen five straight days with temperatures over forty-two degrees centigrade and humidity hovering at about ninety-eight percent.

Hulan quickly crossed the innermost courtyard, passing the other pavilions where in the old days the different branches of her extended family had lived. On the steps of one of these, her mother's nurse—already dressed in simple cotton trousers and a short-sleeve white blouse—waited for her. "Hurry, Hulan. Make them stop. Your mother is bad this morning." Hulan didn't respond, she didn't need to. She and the nurse had followed this routine now for the past three weeks.

Hulan reached the first courtyard, pushed open the gate, and stepped into the alleyway that ran beforeher family compound. There were perhaps seventy people here, all of them senior citizens. Most were dressed in pink silk tunics, while a few wore electric green. The latter, Hulan had learned a week ago, had come from the Heavenly Gate Dance Brigade after an argument about who would lead the dancing in their own neighborhood. The people looked colorful and—Hulan had to admit it—rather sweet in their costumes: Sequins decorated their fans, while glittering tinsel and tufts of white fluff fluttered in time to the music. The bodies of the old people happily gyrated to the drums and cymbals in a dance that was a cross between the bunny hop and the stroll.

"Friends, neighbors," Hulan called out, trying to be heard, "please, I must ask you to move." Of course no one paid her any attention. Hulan stepped into the dancers just as they began marching out of their circle and into rows. "Oh, Inspector! Beautiful morning!" This greeting came from Ri Lihan, a woman in her eighties who lived five compounds away. Before Hulan could respond, Madame Ri twirled away.

Hulan tried to stop first one, then another dancer, but always they slipped past, laughing, their wrinkled faces flushed and sweaty. Hulan made her way through the dancers to the musicians. The cheeks of the man blowing on the suo-na were puffed out and red. The sound emanating from that instrument was high, loud, and discordant. Speech was impossible, but when the musicians saw Hulan pat at the pockets of her robe, they exchanged knowing glances. They had seen their neighbor, Liu Hulan, do this before. She was looking for her Ministry of Public Security identification, but, as was so often the case on these early morning excursions, she had left it behind. The musicians beamed and nodded agreeably to the inspector.

Still clanking, drumming, and blowing, the musicians slowly set off down the alley. Following this cue, the old folks—continuing their dancing rhythm—filed past Hulan. She waited for Madame Zhang to pirouette by, but when she didn't Hulan walked to the old woman's home, silently cursing this current wave of nostalgia to sweep through the city. One month it was restaurants celebrating "the long-past good days" of the Cultural Revolution; the next month there was a run on collectible Mao buttons. One month there was a craze for Western-style white wine mixed with Coca-Cola and ice; the next month old people were bringing their rumpled yang ge costumes and instruments out of trunks and closets and taking to the streets like a bunch of teenagers.

Yang ge music had originated among the peasants of China's northeast and had been brought to Beijing by the People's Liberation Army in 1949. Now, after years of deprivations and political upheavals, the old people had resurrected twin passions—dancing and singing. The only problems—and they were big ones as far as Hulan was concerned—were the time of day and the noise. China, although a large country, operated on one time zone. While in the far west farmers might not go to their fields until the sun came up at nine, in Beijing the day started unconscionably early. Psychologically Hulan hated waking up before six, let alone four in the morning, to the ungodly racket of the Yang ge troupe.

This constant clamoring had also been extremely upsetting to Hulan's mother. Rather than filling Liu Jinli with sentimental longings or carefree memories, these raucous sounds made the older woman quite querulous. Since the Cultural Revolution, Jinli had been confined to a wheelchair and still suffered from bouts of catatonia. During the first weeks that she'd come back to the quiet of the hutong, her health had improved considerably. But with the Yang ge music stirring up the past, Jinli's condition had once again spiraled downward. Which was why Hulan had gone several times already this summer to Neighborhood Committee Director Zhang to register complaints. But the old woman, whose duty it was to keep tabs on the comings and goings of the residents of this Beijing neighborhood, had joined the troupe herself and for once seemed completely immune to Hulan's imprecations.

"Huanying, huanying," Madame Zhang Junying said automatically, opening the door to Hulan. Then, seeing how her neighbor was dressed, the older woman quickly pulled Hulan inside. "Where are your day clothes? You are trying to scare the neighbors?"

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Table of Contents

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 26 )
Rating Distribution

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(6)

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(5)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 26 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 12, 2000

    Lisa See should do better than this

    Lisa See's family memoir 'On Gold Mountain' was terrific, which is probably why I'm so angry at 'The Interior' and its predecessor, 'The Flower Net.' The stilted dialogue and clunky, improbable plot rendered 'The Flower Net' unreadable, and while 'The Interior' has many of the same problems, it also has the seeds of what could be a really interesting book. In 'The Interior,' heroine Lin Hulan goes undercover on an assembly line in a factory producing goods for a U.S. company. There, See almost seems relieved to be able to abandon the pretense of writing an international thriller and puts herself into the heads of regular people trying to walk the survival tightrope in a changing China. This is good stuff. See writes with confidence, and very quickly creates characters the reader can care about. Once the book goes back to its international-business-conspiracy plot, it becomes frenetic and indicative. Lisa See obviously has great feeling for China and its people. Why doesn't she drop this thriller thing and write a novel about China, focusing entirely on Chinese characters? That might be worth reading.

    5 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 11, 2011

    The Interior

    The Interior is a great book that can teach alot of lessons. It teaches about child labor and how it happens in alot of place and also it teaches about making decisions and having to deal with the consequences of what could happen.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted November 25, 2010

    Not the best...not the worst

    It's not as good as Flower Net but it's ok. A slow read.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 18, 2015

    Series second is again dark

    Too much for this reader seems necessary to pile on unpleasant situations to bring in readers but does not attract but repells.

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  • Posted March 9, 2011

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    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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