Saltwater City: An Illustrated History of the Chinese in Vancouver

Saltwater City: An Illustrated History of the Chinese in Vancouver is not your typical dry history book. Paul Yee, a third-generation Chinese Canadian and archivist, offers a deeply human portrait of Vancouver’s Chinese community from its rough-and-tumble beginnings in the mid-19th century to the complex realities of the 1990s. This isn’t just a timeline of events; it’s a story of survival, adaptation, and quiet resistance in the face of systemic exclusion.

Yee starts where the story always begins: migration. The first wave of Chinese immigrants arrived in Vancouver around 1858, mostly from the Guangdong province, chasing the kind of economic opportunities that often turn into disappointments. Fleeing turmoil back home, these early migrants found themselves in a city that didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet. They worked the grueling jobs—railroads, mining, laundries—often under brutal conditions. It’s a familiar immigrant tale, but Yee doesn’t romanticize it. Instead, he shows how these men and women laid down roots despite being treated as unwelcome outsiders.

Then there’s the Chinatown that grew out of necessity and exclusion. Far from a quaint neighborhood, it was a fortress of community and culture. Yee details the social and cultural institutions that emerged—schools, family associations, temples—that helped maintain identity and provide support amid discrimination. But it wasn’t a bubble. The community constantly battled racist laws, like the infamous Chinese Exclusion Act of 1923, which slammed the door shut on new immigrants and tried to erase a whole people from the public eye.

What’s striking in Yee’s account is the resilience during these dark times. The community didn’t just survive; it contributed, especially during World War II, when Chinese Canadians fought for a country that still denied them full citizenship rights. Post-war shifts brought gradual change, with new immigration policies in the 1950s and ’60s softening old barriers. Economic opportunities expanded beyond sweatshops and laundries, and integration into broader Canadian society began, though never entirely without tension.

The 1970s and ’80s saw a cultural revival. Chinatown wasn’t just a place to live; it became a symbol of pride and identity. Cultural centers and festivals sprouted, reflecting a community reclaiming its narrative and place in the city. But Yee doesn’t paint this as a rosy picture of harmony. The 1990s brought new challenges—racial tensions flared, economic disparities persisted, and the community grappled with what it meant to be Chinese and Canadian in a rapidly changing world.

What makes Saltwater City stand out is its rich visual storytelling. Yee includes a trove of photographs—some grainy, some washed out—that breathe life into the text. These images are not just decoration; they’re evidence of lives lived, struggles endured, and moments celebrated. They sometimes interrupt the flow, sure, but they also demand you pay attention.

Yee’s background as an archivist and insider gives the book authenticity and depth. He draws on government records, oral histories, letters, and academic studies, weaving them into a narrative that’s accessible without being dumbed down. However, if you’re looking for heavy-duty analysis or a deep dive into theoretical frameworks, you might find this book a bit light. It’s more about telling the story than dissecting it.

In the end, Saltwater City is a valuable introduction to a community too often sidelined in Canadian histories. It’s a reminder that Vancouver’s growth wasn’t handed out evenly and that the city’s Chinese residents have been shaping it, quietly and stubbornly, for over a century. If you want a book that feels like a conversation with a knowledgeable friend who’s not afraid to point out the ugly parts, this is it.