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Ji-li JiangA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
“With my red scarf, the emblem of the Young Pioneers, tied around my neck, and my heart bursting with joy, I achieved and grew every day until that fateful year, 1966.”
This passage introduces an important motif—the red scarf of the book’s title—and the central theme—that of “fate.” The structure of this sentence suggests that Jiang stopped growing in 1966—“I achieved and grew every day until that fateful year”—however, it becomes clear over the course of the book that Ji-li does not stop achieving and growing; she just grows in a different way, away from the “Young Pioneer” path of Communist China. She will achieve a more critical understanding of the politics of the Cultural Revolution and grow to understand the vagaries of fate.
“One afternoon, a week after the audition, I came home from school and saw a boy blowing big, splendid soap bubbles that shimmered with colors in the sunlight. One by one they drifted away and burst. In a few seconds, they were all gone. I thought about my beautiful dreams and wondered if they would drift away just like those lovely soap bubbles.”
This is one of the first times in the text when Jiang uses lyrical, figurative language to convey how deeply affected she was by the changes wrought in her life by the Cultural Revolution. The use of soap bubbles to describe her dreams conveys their shimmering, elusive quality, and also their fragility.
“Alone in the corner of the school yard I saw a little wildflower. She had six delicate petals, each as big as the nail of my little finger. They were white at the center and shaded blue at the edges. She was as lonely as I was. I did not know her name. Softly I stroked her petals, thinking that I would take care of her, as I wished someone would take care of me.”
In Chapter 1, Jiang describes her dreams for the future as being like soap bubbles floating in the air. Here, she describes herself as a delicate, lonely wildflower. The key feature of this description is isolation—the sight of a single flower growing in what is presumably an inhospitable place is an accurate reflection of Ji-li’s state of mind. The beauty of the flower also connects back to the Prologue, where we learned that Ji-li’s name means, in part, “beauty.”
“The cut-paper characters STUDY HARD AND ADVANCE EVERY DAY still hung on the front wall, but several pins were missing and some of the characters hung askew. The neatly designed and decorated Students’ Garden was written over with crude letters that read REVOLUTIONARY ACTIONS.”
The shabbiness of the “study hard” banner reflects the shift of priorities at school once the Cultural Revolution begins. The emphasis is no longer on a rigorous academic education but, rather, propaganda and “class education.” Also significant is the defacement of the Students’ Garden, formerly a place to display achievement, including Ji-li’s latest perfect math test. “Revolutionary actions” have replaced academic excellence as the students’ objectives, much to Ji-li’s dismay.
“We walked past the library. I had spent many hours in that small room and had discovered many of our national heroes there: brave Liu Hu-lan, who died rather than surrender to a Nationalist warlord; heroic Huang Hi-guang, who sacrificed himself to save his comrades in Korea; and others who gave their lives for the revolution. Now there was a sign on the door that said CLOSED FOR SORTING DURING SUMMER VACATION, and I could see that half the shelves were empty. I knew that many of my favorite books, like the stories in Grandpa Hong’s bookstall, would be sorted away forever, declared poison under the new standards. We turned and left the schoolyard for the last time.”
This passage speaks to how important stories and storytelling are to Ji-li. It is significant in that the stories she recalls at this moment are stories that celebrate the Communist Revolution—attesting not only to the individual power of stories on an emotional level, but also to the political power of stories on an ideological level. This passage also reinforces the sense of Ji-li’s loss of innocence. Ji-li and An Yi have gone back to their old school not long after their graduation, but they already see everything with new and more knowledgeable eyes.
“‘You are just children and a search would have nothing to do with you.’ The new décor lost all its brightness. The pearls I had been playing with lost their luster, and I put them down.”
This passage comes at the end of Chapter 6, during which the family has been preparing for the almost inevitable search of their home by getting rid of or disguising anything that might be considered “fourolds” by the Red Guards. The children, including Ji-li, have found the process entertaining, until they confront the reality of such a search. Though their mother assures them that “a search would have nothing to do with” them, Ji-li realizes that this is not true, and the child’s play she was engaged in is no longer appealing. This is another key moment in her maturation, with the “pearls” representing her former innocence.
“In the three months since the Cultural Revolution had started, changes had been so constant that I often felt lost. One day the Conservative faction were revolutionaries that defended Chairman Mao’s ideas; the next day, the opposite Rebel faction became the heroes of the Cultural Revolution. I heard that even Chairman of the Nation Liu Shao-qi and General Secretary Deng Xiao-ping were having problems. No one knew what would happen tomorrow.”
This passage captures how confusing the Cultural Revolution is, and how quickly one’s status can change in its context. Even those in positions of power are not safe from the random shifts of fortune it engenders. For Ji-li, a young girl from a “black” family, it is that much more bewildering and scarier.
“I wondered what I would be doing if I had been born into a red family instead of a black one. Searching people’s houses? Hating landlords and rightists? Of course I would hate them; I hated them even now. I hated my grandfather, just as I hated all of Chairman Mao’s enemies. But I had felt sorry for Old Qian even though he was wrong. And I did not know if I could hate Grandma if she was officially classified as a landlord’s wife. The harder I tried to figure things out, the more confused I felt. I wished I had been born into a red family so I could do my revolutionary duties without worrying.”
This passage captures the contradictory things Ji-li is feeling as she tries to negotiate the effects of the Cultural Revolution. She knows how she should feel, but has trouble ignoring her natural empathy for the victims of state power. She believes that her class status is to blame for her conflicted feelings, which makes it difficult for her to trust herself. She knows, deep down, that it is wrong to ask her to hate her own grandmother, regardless of her status, and this knowledge makes a space for empathy for those in similar positions, like Old Qian.
“I suddenly remembered her grandmother under the white sheet, and everything became clear. We had a bad class status. That was why An Yi was not allowed to wear mourning bands or even cry aloud for her grandmother. That was why my house was searched, and strangers could come in and do whatever they wanted. It was just a simple fact. Why should I ask why? There was absolutely nothing I could do to change it.”
Here, Ji-li confronts the arbitrariness of her situation, which is the result of the arbitrariness of the Cultural Revolution itself, but which she can only attribute to “fate.” The grief of An Yi’s family over the loss of her grandmother and the violation Ji-li feels as a result of the search of her home are the direct result of living in a world where what one does—good or bad—has no bearing on how one is treated, and the recognition of this powerlessness is a crucial (and painful) part of her development.
“‘Maybe it’s really true.’ It seemed clear to me all of a sudden. ‘It’s just because of fate that we’re being hurt. It’s just fate that made us be born into black families. And now the wheel of fate is turning. Maybe our families will be free of trouble soon.’ When I looked around me, fate seemed to be the only explanation for what was happening.”
In this passage, Ji-li returns to the concept of fate and explicitly articulates what she implicitly realized in the previous passage. The difference is that here, she recognizes that fate only seems permanent. Its arbitrariness can be a source of hope as well as a source of pain.
“I saw her mother clinging to the high chimney. I shivered. I saw her grandma standing by the window in her black clothes; Old Qian, collapsed at the foot of the propaganda wall; Xiao-cheng’s father, arms wrenched behind his back; Ming-ming’s father, dangling in the air, his tongue dangling out of his bruised, purple face. Fate.”
This passage is a catalogue of the worst things Ji-li has witnessed happening to people around her as a result of the Cultural Revolution. While Ji-li herself has experienced her share of psychological pain—fear, humiliation, and confusion—people she knows and cares for have suffered more, sometimes paying the ultimate price for their black class status. In trying to confront the senselessness of this torture and death, she returns, again, to the concept of fate.
“The family problems seemed to grow on my back like a tumor, and whatever I did, they just grew worse.”
Using the simile of the tumor emphasizes, again, how Ji-li is unable to escape her family’s class status. Like a tumor, it eats away at her self-esteem; the sickness that results from it causes her to hate her own family.
“It felt almost like a dream from long ago. I remembered another Ji-li, one who was always praised by her teachers and respected by her classmates. A Ji-Ii who always pushed herself to do better, achieve more.”
This moment marks the beginning of a renewal of purpose for Ji-li. Her classmates’ goodwill toward her reawakens the girl she used to be, before the Cultural Revolution defined her as “black.” At this point, the question is whether she can pursue the same kind of success she felt certain she could achieve at the start of the story.
“Today I was fourteen. I started to write ‘Happy Birthday’ on the frosted windows. The melted ice dripped down the window slowly and crookedly, like tears.”
Ji-li turns 14 right after her father has been detained at work, accused of establishing counterrevolutionary ties and listening to foreign radio. The image of her frozen “Happy Birthday” is a poetic reflection of her sadness at this moment. The birthday is, of course, the opposite of “happy.”
“I heard the distant whistle of a passing train, and I wished I could get on it and go far away, to a place without struggle meetings, without class status, without confessions.”
This is one of several moments when Ji-li expresses the desire to run away. This one is significant in that she explicitly desires to escape the Cultural Revolution itself; at other times, she simply wants to escape her class status.
“‘You are different from your parents. You were born and raised in New China. You are a child of Chairman Mao. You can choose your own destiny: You can make a clean break with your parents and follow Chairman Mao, and have a bright future; or you can follow your parents, and then…you will not come to a good end.’ As he spoke the last phrase, he paused meaningfully after each word.”
This passage is part of what Thin-Face, the foreman at Ji-li’s father’s workplace, says to Ji-li when she drops clothes off for her father during his detainment. He is offering her a way to escape her class status by testifying against her father. She can replace her family with “comrades” and claim Chairman Mao as her “true father.” This is one of the clearest examples of how Ji-li is forced to choose between her family and the bright future she envisioned for herself.
“‘We cannot choose our families or our class status. But we can choose our own futures.’ He spoke very slowly and clearly. ‘No, you are not a leader, but you are still an “educable child.” You can overcome your family background.’ He paused. ‘You have self-esteem, and you always try to excel. That’s why I believe you are brave enough to face and eventually overcome the difficulties of life.’ […] I had wanted to give up. I had almost stopped trying to be brave, to be an educable child. I saw another part of myself, a part full of fear that I had to struggle against. I would not allow myself to stop trying to follow Chairman Mao. Whatever my family background was, I would overcome all difficulties. My future would be bright.”
Ji-li runs away when Thin-Face makes a similar speech to her in the previous chapter, but when Teacher Zhang tells her the same thing, she is convinced to keep trying to be “an educable child.” In the context of school, where she has always been successful in the past, she still believes that she can be her previous self. As a result of this moment, Ji-li decides to participate in the Class Education Exhibition, which will prove to be her last attempt to follow this path.
“Suddenly I found myself weeping. What everyone else was saying about us did not make any difference to Song Po-po. She treated us just the way she always used to. Life couldn’t be easy for her either, since she no longer had a job, but she was still concerned about others. I felt ashamed. I had been selfish and inconsiderate. Life was difficult for me, but it was even more difficult for Mom. How could I think of hurting her this way?”
It is significant that Song Po-po, Ji-li’s former nanny and the family’s former housekeeper is the person who inadvertently brings Ji-li to the realization about what matters to her. Song Po-po’s life has been made more difficult as a result of her relationship to the Jiang family, who let her go so they are not accused of being bourgeois for having a housekeeper. This means that Song Po-po no longer gets paid for work that she continues to do for the family. Her selflessness provides Ji-li with a much needed perspective on hardship and the importance of empathy and caring for others in spite of one’s own troubles.
“Finally I had decided. Everyone already knew the worst about me. Let them think what they would. I would do an excellent job to prove myself. I had to win my honor back.”
This is an important moment for two reasons: It shows Ji-li’s renewed sense of purpose after a period of confusion and floundering; and it shows her coming to terms with her class status. Winning her honor back is an intrinsic motivation—something she does for herself—not an extrinsic motivation—something she does to win others’ praise. “They” will “think what they would”; Ji-li’s concern is now for what she thinks of herself.
“Without knowing how I got there, I found myself in a narrow passageway between the school building and the school-yard wall. The gray concrete walls closed around me, and a slow drizzle dampened my cheeks. I could not go back to the classroom, and I could not go home. I felt like a small animal that had fallen into a trap, alone and helpless, and sure that the hunter was coming.”
This is another moment where the description of Ji-li’s surrounding beautifully describes her psychological state. She has just been confronted, again, by the foreman at her father’s workplace, this time with the cooperation of her teachers: Her home and school worlds have come crashing together in a way that they have not before. There is renewed pressure on Ji-li to betray her father as an expression of her loyalty to the state (which, ironically, was never in question to begin with), and it’s no wonder she feels like a trapped animal with the hunter looming on the horizon.
“As soon as I said it, I realized that I had made my promise to them—to everyone in my family—long ago. I had promised during the days that Grandma and I had hidden in the park; I had promised when I had not testified against Dad; I had promised when I had hidden the letter. I would never do anything to hurt my family, and I would do everything I could to take care of them. My family was too precious to forget, and too rare to replace.”
This passage marks the moment of Ji-li’s final realization. Up until this point, she has not realized how her choices had already shown the path to her future. The red scarf girl of the beginning of the book is gone, because to be her, Ji-li would have had to forget her own family, to adopt Chairman Mao as her “father.” The ideology of the Cultural Revolution classifies this choice as bourgeois individualism; however, in choosing her family over the state, Ji-li has sacrificed her own individual ambitions. In a better world, she could have had both; her growth as a person is predicated on this possibility having been taken away. She can’t have both, she must choose, and she chooses family.
“Once my life had been defined by my goals: to be a da-dui-zhang, to participate in the exhibition, to be a Red Guard. They seemed unimportant to me now. Now my life was defined by my responsibilities. I had promised to take care of my family, and I would renew that promise every day. I could not give up or withdraw, no matter how hard life became. I would hide my tears and my fear for Mom and Grandma’s sake. It was my turn to take care of them.”
This passage builds on the previous one, articulating the choice as being between “goals” and “responsibilities.” It also reaffirms Ji-li’s recognition of the necessity of sacrifice. She knows the path she chose will not be an easy one, but she prefers its difficulty over the difficulty of losing her family.
“It was only after Mao’s death in 1976 that people woke up. We finally learned that the whole Cultural Revolution had been part of a power struggle at the highest levels of the Party. Our leader had taken advantage of our trust and loyalty to manipulate the whole country. This is the most frightening lesson of the Cultural Revolution: Without a sound legal system, a small group or even a single person can take control of an entire country. This is as true now as it was then.”
This passage from the Epilogue offers some explanation for the arbitrariness of the Cultural Revolution, but it also speaks to the problem of power and the need to stay vigilant against too much power amassing in the hands of any one person.
“Thirty years have passed since I was the little girl with the red scarf who believed she would always succeed at everything. I grew up and moved to the United States, but still, whatever I did, wherever I went, vivid memories of my childhood kept coming back to me. After thinking so much about that time, I wanted to do something for the little girl I had been, and for all the children who lost their childhoods as I did.”
This passage from the Epilogue recalls the Prologue’s description of Ji-li before the Cultural Revolution as a girl destined to be happy—and thus brings us full circle. It also poignantly expresses Jiang’s own grief over her lost girlhood. Though she has clearly succeeded in her life, it has come at significant cost. The passage also speaks to the importance of storytelling in healing the wounds of from the past and in making connections with others that sustain us in our future.
“Despite my success and promotions, I was not entirely happy. I realized that although I have adopted a new country, I cannot forget China. I wonder about China’s present, and I worry about her future. I have realized that despite all my suffering, I cannot stop loving the country where I was born and raised.”
This passage explains why Jiang started her business to facilitate dialogue between the US and China, but it also reminds us that the purpose of Red Scarf Girl is not to demonize a country, despite the hardship she suffered there. It is also in line with the insights Jiang gained as a young woman from her experience of the Cultural Revolution: Now, as then, Ji-li chooses empathy and understanding over suspicion and hate.