Last Night at the Telegraph Club

“Lily retreated to the stairs, then turned back to see Shirley still standing at the edge, gazing out over the lawn. The back of her head was crowned in sunlight, casting her face in shadow. The profile of her nose and mouth was still sweet and girlish. But there was a modest swell to her breast, and she had cinched in the waist of her dress to emphasize the slight curve of her hips. Lily wondered if this was what a Chinese girl should look like.”

In direct contrast to Lily, Shirley is the stereotypical “good” Chinese American girl—except for dating Calvin in secret. She’s the popular one at school, the leader of their friend group, and the clearest front-runner for Miss Chinatown (though she doesn’t win the title). Like Lily’s parents, Shirley tries to keep Lily on the path that she’s expected to follow. Lily remains in Shirley’s shadow until she feels confident enough to assert herself—and her difference from Shirley.

“Now she laid the women pilots on the bed next to Katharine Hepburn and Tommy Andrews and looked at them all in succession. She couldn’t put into words why she had gathered these photos together, but she could feel it in her bones: a hot and restless urge to look—and, by looking, to know.”

The image of Tommy Andrews, a butch lesbian, is a recurring motif throughout the novel. In this scene, Lily lays Tommy’s photo beside other images of women in the 1950s, all of whom are real and exist. Lily is interested in how the pilots came to be who they are, as she aspires to a career in science herself, and she can’t put into words what it means to her that Tommy exists—to see someone who might be attractive to her.

“You need to have the right look.”

This quote resonates with the theme of being a “good” American—particularly Chinese American—citizen. On one level, when Grace says this to Lily, she’s speaking more about what’s appropriate for a teenage girl to wear to school, and it foreshadows her later disbelief when Lily reveals that she went to the Telegraph Club and that she’s lesbian, especially as her mother repeatedly asserts that it was a mistake and that Lily is a “good Chinese girl” (327). However, it also touches on the fact that the government is watching Chinese Americans in particular, targeting them as Communists—regardless of whether they are—as an excuse to deport them.

“She felt as if she had finally cracked the last part of a code she had been puzzling over for so long that she couldn’t remember when she had started deciphering it. She felt exhilarated.”

Lily always suspected that something was different about her, but until she reads part of the novel Strange Season in the drugstore, stumbling across a passage in which two women kiss, she isn’t quite sure what. Finding this novel, which appears several times throughout the book, is crucial in her coming of age.

“I don’t believe you had any bad intentions. You’ve never shown any interest in politics, but the things you do can reflect badly on others. We’re living in a complicated time. People are afraid of things they don’t understand, and we need to show that we’re Americans first. Do you understand?”

The 1950s were a difficult time for Chinese Americans, who were often labeled as associated with the Communist Party in China. The government often used the label “Communist” to make people seem undesirable and thereby justify their deportation. When the FBI takes Joseph’s citizenship papers, it puts him at risk even though he’d lived in the US for decades. It becomes increasingly critical for Chinese Americans to show that they conform to the standards of being American and never appear as anything other than loyal Americans.

“‘It was about two women.’ Lily’s mouth felt so dry she might choke on the words. ‘That book, Strange Season. It was about two women, and they fell in love with each other.’ And then she asked the question that had taken root in her, that was even now unfurling its leaves and demanding to be shown the sun: ‘Have you ever heard of such a thing?’”

Kath and Lily dance around one another throughout the novel, and this is one example of foreshadowing Lily’s self-discovery. The passage conveys the significance of Lily’s question and Kath’s response. Strange Season is a recurring motif throughout Lily’s journey of discovering who she is and in acting on her feelings for Kath and for women in general.

“This bright, clean restaurant in Chinatown that smelled of sugar and cream was not the place to ask, but Lily felt as if her thoughts must be written in plain English on her face. Are you like the girls in the book too? Because I think I am.”

Even before they go to the Telegraph Club, Kath becomes Lily’s main connection to the question of identity that she’s exploring. She feels awakened by Strange Season, and Kath has become someone with whom she can discuss these feelings—but doing so is difficult. It’s taboo to be interested in people of the same gender, and Lily is self-conscious. Eventually, not only does she discover that Kath is interested in women too, but she and Kath fall in love themselves.

“She lay back against her pillows, setting the clipping down beside her on her bed. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine Tommy Andrews singing to the women in the audience—to her—but her imagination seemed to balk tonight, as if it refused to show her this fantasy anymore because she was about to see the real thing. By the end of this week, she would be there.”

Tommy and the Telegraph Club symbolize hope to Lily from the moment she sees Tommy’s image in the ad. The ad shows Lily that there are other women like herself, women who prefer to love one another instead of a man. At the club, she can be herself even if she’s nervous about it, and the idea thrills her.

“Beneath the awning, half-lit by the nearby streetlamp, was a black door, and in front of the black door stood a person whom Lily initially thought was a short, stocky man in a suit, but soon realized was a woman. Lily had seen people like her before (she had always noticed; they had drawn her eye magnetically, somehow, in a way that made her pulse leap), but never in this context: as if it were natural, and even expected, to be dressed this way.”

The book is dedicated “[t]o all the butches and femmes, past, present, and future” (Dedication). “Butch” refers to women who dress and appear more masculine, while “femme” refers to the opposite, and the characters use these terms in several instances. Seeing butch women is a clear marker of the LGBTQ+ community in the novel, as they defy traditional gender roles and dress. Seeing the bouncer, Mickey, is another sign for Lily that one needn’t always conform to expectations.

“It was that yet that made Lily’s skin flush warm. The knowledge that despite the clothes that Tommy wore, despite the attitude that invited everyone in the room to gaze at her, she was not a man. It felt unspeakably charged, as if all of Lily’s most secret desires had been laid bare onstage.”

Lily’s fascination with masculinely dressed women indicates that perhaps she’s interested in butch lesbians—that is, women who dress more masculinely. This foreshadows how Lily feels when Kath is called a “baby butch” later in the novel.

“Beyond those couples, most of the audience was women, and some of those women were dressed like men. None as finely as Tommy, but some wore ties and vests, while others wore blazers with open-collared shirts. Some women were done up for a night on the town in cocktail dresses, with sparkling earrings and necklaces around their pale throats. There were a few Negro women seated together, but Lily was the only Chinese girl in the room. That meant there was no one from Chinatown to recognize her, but it also made her stand out all the more.”

Despite Lily’s finding a home in the Telegraph Club, racism is still prevalent in the 1950s, and Lily finds herself as one of the few people of color—and the only Asian American woman—in the room on her first night at the Telegraph Club. Thus, she feels even more different for being both lesbian and Chinse American. Throughout the novel, she contends with balancing her intersectional identity.

“In her imagination, Tommy had been like a matinee idol—sweet-faced and tender. In reality, Tommy was a woman made of flesh and blood, and that frightened Lily most of all.”

The Telegraph Club becomes a sanctuary for Lily, and once she finally arrives after weeks of anticipation and wondering—and even a question of whether she’d ever go at all—she finally makes it to hear Tommy Andrews sing. However, this makes her realization about her sexuality and the entire world that comes with it even more real. It foreshadows the fact that she won’t be able to go back now that she’s come here and found a place where she can be herself.

“Lily didn’t want to tell them about her weekends: helping her mother run errands around Chinatown, going to church on Sundays, occasionally seeing the Cathay Band perform or cheering on the YMCA basketball team. She thought of Shirley working at the Eastern Pearl, folding hundreds of napkins over and over, so that they might be used to wipe the mouths of Caucasians. And then she looked around the Telegraph Club and felt as if she had rocketed herself to another planet; it seemed so far away from home.”

This quote touches on the idea of balancing intersectional identities in that even though Lily feels comforted by being in a place where her sexuality is accepted, she still feels like an outsider given that she’s Chinese and not white. The white women surrounding her all experience a different level of privilege than she does. Additionally, this passage touches on the motif of science and math in its allusion to what’s perhaps a reason she’s so interested in rockets: She sometimes feels like she’s from a different planet herself.

“On the glossy cover was an illustration of an all-American family: a blond mother, a dark-haired father, and a blond girl and boy with freckled cheeks and wide blue eyes. They sat at a kitchen table set for dinner, where a reddish-brown meatloaf rose from a platter decorated with pineapple slices, and a pat of yellow butter melted on a mound of mashed potatoes in a green bowl. Lily had only ever eaten meatloaf in the school cafeteria, and the thought of its salty, slick interior made her queasy. She flipped the pamphlet over so that she didn’t have to see it.”

The drawing on the pamphlet shows a stereotypical 1950s family: a white straight couple with their children. It’s vastly different from the life that Lily leads as a Chinese American and from the path she’s starting down in accepting and exploring her sexuality. Moreover, it touches on what it means to be a good American citizen, as this image is the expectation. However, due to racism in the US, living up to that standard is impossible for Chinese Americans.

“The drills continued year after year, although the enemy who might attack them changed. Japan was vanquished but Korea and China might invade, and now it was the Soviets who could drop atomic bombs. She had secretly welcomed their potential Soviet invaders, because at least she’d never be mistaken for a Russian.”

Because Lily is Asian, she has experienced much racism in the US, especially because of the conflicts with Japan, Korea, and now China in the wake of the rise of Communism. These political tensions have seeped into her everyday life and her encounters with white Americans, who associate her with the enemy solely because of her skin color.

“‘I mean, don’t you ever wish you weren’t Chinese.’ Shirley spoke in a low voice, as if she were afraid to say it. ‘You wouldn’t have to live in Chinatown, and you could do anything you wanted. You could go ice-skating anytime.’”

Shirley points to a tension in being Chinese American during this time. She knows that it’s in some ways limiting. Many stereotypes are associated with being Chinese, and the pressure to conform to societal standards in the US is pervasive. Lily never wishes to shirk this identity, but she understands the pressure.

“She didn’t know how long they kissed—not long enough—but at one point Kath drew back to take a breath, and Lily opened her eyes and saw to her right the dim glow of the street beyond their dark alley. She realized with a start what she was doing and where she was doing it and whom she was doing it with, and she knew she should feel ashamed, but all she felt was the heaving of Kath’s chest against hers, and the tenderness of her lips where Kath had kissed her.”

When she and Kath finally kiss, Lily reaches a turning point that proves critical for the rest of her actions in the novel. Being with Kath helps Lily determine the importance of staying true to herself and her identity. First, she must be honest with herself that she has feelings for Kath, and those feelings help her to stand up to her family and to Shirley when they encourage her to call everything that happened with Kath and the Telegraph Club a “mistake.”

“The invisible walls of their two different worlds would slide right back in place, and they would return to their separate lives without comment.”

Lily experiences much risk in navigating life outside the Telegraph Club. At the time, it’s dangerous for anyone to be open about their sexuality, not only because of the social taboo associated with it but also because of laws against acting on feelings for members of the same gender. When Lily encounters Paula while dress shopping with Shirley, she realizes that anyone could give her away. One wrong move, and everyone could know. However, Paula pretends they don’t know one another, keeping both their secrets safe.

“It felt different this time—weighted. They were making this choice together, and Lily felt the seriousness with which Kath touched her.”

When Lily and Kath first kiss, it’s hidden in the darkness of an alley, away from the light of day. However, in choosing to come back together when school resumes after Christmas break, Lily and Kath purposely decide to return to one another. Lily is being honest with herself and her desire to be with Kath.

“Here was her mother sitting down across from her, reaching for her hands and chafing them as if she were frozen. She felt the rub of her mother’s wedding ring against her skin, and her mother’s face swam into focus, her brown eyes full of the sharp worry of love, and Lily thought, You will never look at me like this again.”

Lily knows the cost of being honest with her mother even before telling her anything about the Telegraph Club. However, she knows that she must be honest because she’d rather her parents hear it from her and because she can’t deny who she is.

“It was clear that if she agreed with her mother—and Shirley—if she would only tell them what they wanted to hear, then she could move forward on her prescribed path. But that would mean erasing all her trips to the Telegraph Club; it would mean denying her desire to go at all. It meant suppressing her feelings for Kath, and at that moment, her feelings seemed to swell inside her so painfully that she was terrified she might burst.”

Lily refuses to lie about her identity. Honesty is critical to her, and her feelings for Kath—and about everyone in the Telegraph Club who has shown her that it’s okay to be herself—overwhelm her fear. She refuses to lie, and while it leads to her family denying this part of her identity, it means that she can stay true to herself.

“She began to feel as if she had been split in two, and only one half of her was here in this living room. That was the good Chinese daughter who was delicately chewing her way around the bones in each piece of hsün yü, carefully extracting them from her mouth and laying the tiny white spines on the edge of her plate with her chopsticks. The other half had been left out on the sidewalk before Lily walked in the front door. That was the girl who had spent last night in the North Beach apartment of a Caucasian woman she barely knew.”

Lily feels torn between these two identities throughout the novel. The pressure of being a “good Chinese daughter” is inherently bound in the historical context: Chinese Americans lived in greater fear because of McCarthyism and the witch hunt for Communists (in addition to constantly experiencing racism). However, Lily also discovers an identity in her experiences at the Telegraph Club and with Kath.

“She felt a queer giddiness overtaking her, as if her body might float up from the ground because she was so buoyant with this lightness, this love.”

Unlike Strange Seasons, Lily’s story ends somewhat happily, with both she and Kath looking back at one another as they walk away, having freshly admitted to loving one another. The author’s use of “queer” here has a double meaning. It refers both to something odd or unusual and to Lily’s lesbian sexuality.