Notes of a Crocodile
by Qiu Miaojin (1994)
2024 reads, 24/22:
“Man’s greatest suffering is born of mistreatment by his fellow man.”
Notes of a Crocodile is a coming-of-age novel published in 1994 by Taiwanese author Qiu Miaojin. Having gained a cult following (especially in recent years thanks to this new translation by Bonnie Huie), this book follows the unnamed lesbian narrator, nicknamed Lazi, during her college years in 1980s Taipei. I bring up Lazi’s sexual orientation because Notes of a Crocodile covers themes of LGBT+ struggles, along with mental health, friendship, chosen families, and growing up in an era where it seems everything and everyone is against you.
“I love my own kind–womankind. From the moment my consciousness of love was born, there was no hope of cure. And those four words–no hope of cure–encapsulate my state of suffering to this day.”
Reading this book feels like opening someone’s diary—not as an intrusion but as an invitation from Lazi herself (even writing in the second person point of view at times). Because of this, I felt like an insider, and at times, I even felt like a character she was writing letters to. Qiu writes her characters beautifully – not only are they fleshed out, but the relationships between them feel genuine (even if uncomfortable at times).
“Those wrenching eyes, which could lift up the entire skeleton of my being. How I longed for myself to be subsumed into the ocean of her eyes. How the desire, once awakened, would come to scald me at every turn.”
Conversely, it also feels like I don't know these characters at all. Their experiences are so far removed from my own: a different country, a different time, a different sexual orientation. I’m sure there were references, themes, and motifs I missed out on. But I guess that's why we read, right? To gain insight into different experiences that transcend time and space.
I want to keep this review fairly short because I feel so far out of my depth talking about the symbolism, and I won’t pretend to comprehend what the LGBT+ community goes through; yet I loved this book so much. I really would recommend just reading it and getting a feel for the words Qiu paints on the page. If it interests you, I also highly recommend checking out some of the reviews/analyses I’ve linked below that I’ve found helpful in appreciating her work. Qiu is putting her all into this book, which hit even harder when I found out this novel gained recognition posthumously. I’m not exaggerating when I say this may be one of the most important books I’ve read this year.
“The two of us walked down the center of a deserted road. With all human commotion at a standstill, we heard the scattered sounds of nature, the passing cry of a bird overhead. Soaked from head to toe, we found our way to the lush greenery of Wenzhou Street. The trees that lined the street appeared to have been reborn in shades of emerald. No need to be silent. Are you sinking into some corner of your melancholy? In my heart, I called out to you.”
Further Reading:
An Interview with Bonnie Huie, Translator (Neocha)
Consider the Crocodile: Qiu Miaojin’s Lesbian Bestiary (Los Angeles Review of Books)
“Notes of a Crocodile” by Qiu Miaojin (Asian Review of Books)