The Song of the Jade Lily

Let’s be honest: historical fiction about WWII often feels like it’s been done to death. But Kirsty Manning’s The Song of the Jade Lily manages to sidestep the usual clichés by zooming in on a lesser-known chapter—the Jewish refugees who found sanctuary in Shanghai. The story unfolds across two timelines: 1939 and 2016, stitching together past and present in a way that’s both intimate and revealing.

In 1939, Romy Bernfeld is a Jewish teenager fleeing the horrors of Kristallnacht in Vienna. Instead of the usual European destinations, her family ends up in Shanghai—a city that might sound exotic and far-flung but was a real refuge for thousands during the war. There, Romy forms a deep friendship with Li Ho, a local Chinese girl. Their bond becomes a lifeline amid the chaos of war, displacement, and cultural collision. Manning doesn’t just paint Shanghai as a backdrop; she immerses you in its sights, sounds, and smells, making the city almost a character in its own right. The narrative doesn’t sugarcoat the difficulties: poverty, prejudice, and the constant threat of violence are ever-present.

Fast forward to 2016, and we meet Alexandra, Romy’s granddaughter. She’s back in Australia, juggling the demands of caring for her frail grandfather Wilhelm and the sudden flood of family secrets that begin to surface. Through Alexandra’s eyes, we peel back the layers of history, learning how the past shapes identity and how silence can both protect and imprison.

What’s compelling here is how Manning threads together these two women’s stories without resorting to melodrama or oversimplification. Romy and Li’s friendship challenges stereotypes and highlights cultural misunderstandings, but also genuine connection. Alexandra’s modern-day quest to understand her heritage reflects a universal struggle: how do we come to terms with histories that are painful, complicated, or conveniently forgotten?

The novel explores themes of identity, belonging, and the resilience of human connection. It’s refreshing to see a WWII story that doesn’t just focus on the European theater but expands the lens to Asia, showing how global the impact really was. Manning’s prose is vivid without being overdone; she knows when to linger on a detail and when to let the story breathe.

That said, the dual timeline approach can feel a bit familiar, and some readers might find the pacing uneven—moments in the past are richly textured, while the present-day narrative sometimes drifts. Also, the characters occasionally tread close to archetypes: the plucky refugee girl, the wise elder, the curious granddaughter. But these are minor quibbles in an otherwise engaging and heartfelt story.

For readers who dig family sagas with a historical twist, or who want to learn about a neglected slice of WWII history without slogging through dry facts, The Song of the Jade Lily delivers. It’s a reminder that history isn’t just about dates and battles; it’s about people, friendships, and the stories we pass down—or don’t.