“Introducing Lotus Blossom,
geisha girl first-class.” Asian women are highly
fetishized in our society, especially by white men, “The Oriental woman has always
held a certain fascination for you Caucasian men.” and one of the roots of this problem
is the lotus blossom stereotype — also known as
“china doll” or “geisha girl.” “She say she very happy
to belong to handsome captain. She say she gonna serve you well.” So what does this
stereotype consist of? The lotus blossom is quiet, docile
and submissive to her male partners. “I will love you asa,
if that is your desire.” Sometimes also called
the lotus blossom baby, she projects a hyperfeminine,
baby-like innocence, “She's enchanted me with
her innocent charms.” which can lead to her
being treated as empty-headed.
She’s almost always paired
with a white man — “I think I will enjoy very much
serving under you.” playing into the male fantasy of being
the lotus blossom’s “white savior,” while Asian men are desexualized
and removed from the equation. The lotus blossom is
above all hypersexualized, and is often portrayed
as a sex worker. “Me so horny!
Me love you long time.” This notorious line of dialogue from
Stanley Kubrick’s 1987 film, Full Metal Jacket, both reflected and perpetuated
that association in a lasting way. “That butt you got makes
(me-me so horny).” “She'd be like, ‘Oh me so horny,
me love you long time.’” The innocent lotus blossom is the
flipside of the deceitful dragon lady, “My vengeance is inspired tonight.” who weaponizes her sexuality
for nefarious purposes. But both tropes perpetuate the overt
and excessive sexuality that has long been linked
to Asian female characters. In short, the lotus blossom trope
portrays Asian women onscreen as objects of desire —
but ones which are disposable. “Get out, be a prostitute, I should have
never touched you in the first place. I can get 10 like you in 2 minutes.” They’re lusted after only as long
as they continue to project traits like obedience, subservience
and a baby-like lack of agency or individuality. Here’s our take on how
the lotus blossom trope fetishizes Asian women —
with dangerous real-world consequences. “For many in the asian community
Tuesday's attack was a culmination of a narrative in which Asian women
are hypersexualized and fetishized.” Before the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act
suspended all Chinese immigration into the US,
the Page Act of 1875 prohibited the immigration of East Asian
women for “immoral purposes.” In practice, this effectively banned all
Chinese women from entering the country. “Legislation in the United States,
such as the Page Act, discriminated and barred Asian women. They've been stereotyped as
a seductress, as subservient” Hollywood’s earliest portrayals
of Asian women solidified the lotus blossom’s
counterpart, the dragon lady, as the female embodiment
of Yellow Peril, or the perceived threat that
Asian immigrants posed to an American way of life. “You will first have the torture
of seeing her beauty eaten slowly away
by this hungry acid.” Chinese actress Anna May Wong
was famous for roles like the scheming Mongol slave in the
1924 silent film The Thief of Bagdad to the duplicitous Princess Ling Moy
in 1931’s Daughter of the Dragon. “Just merciless vengeance” The trope of the lotus blossom portrayed
the Asian woman as both sexual and submissive, originating with Pierre Loti’s
semi-autobiographical 1887 novel Madame Chrysanthème, about a naval
officer’s temporary “marriage” to a Japanese woman. This influenced the 1898 John Luther Long
story Madame Butterfly, about an American naval officer who
takes a temporary “wife” called “Butterfly” “She's like a porcelain doll” but abandons her
(and the child he doesn’t know about) to return to America,
where he weds an American woman. Both literary works inspired
Giacomo Puccini’s 1904 opera Madama Butterfly,
which changed Long’s ending: while in the story, Butterfly doesn’t
go through with hurting herself, in the opera, Butterfly takes her own life
after giving her son an American flag. “Goodbye, my little love!” As film scholar Celine Parreñas Shimizu
told Vox, “They were romanticizing
the compatibility of a docile war bride, as an ideal American wife,
because she was sexually servile but also a domestic servant.” In the second half of the 20th century,
the extensive US military presence in Asian countries created something
called the military-sexual complex, “What do we get for $10?” “Everything you want.” which institutionalized
US military prostitution through agreements with Asian governments
and contributed to the hypersexualization of Asian women
in Western media. “The heat is on in Saigon/
The girls are ready to screw” Many poor or working class Asian women
were forced to go into prostutition to survive following the disruption of
war, putting them in a position to be exploited by American soldiers. As Khara Jabola-Carolus, the executive
director of Hawaii State Commission on the Status of Women, tweeted, “White men have been trained,
peer pressured and hazed by the U.S. military
to release their anxiety, self-loathing, and hatred of the enemy
onto Asian women’s bodies.” But strikingly, this relationship is
depicted romantically in Western media, particularly in the award-winning
1989 Broadway musical Miss Saigon. “You’re the one good thing
I’ve found out here.” Another iteration of the
Madame Butterfly story, Miss Saigon focuses on the
doomed love story between Chris, an American GI, and Kim,
a 17-year-old Vietnamese prostitute who has his child after
he leaves Vietnam. “Some nights I wake up,
wishing for him.” When he returns with an American wife,
(like in Madama Butterfly) Kim selflessly kills herself
so that Chris’ wife will consent to take and raise her son in America. “You’re still mine but
I can’t go along” But while it’s played as a
tragic love story showing individuals trapped by impossible circumstances,
the real story here is the huge power imbalance
between Chris and Kim, “I'm seventeen and I'm new here today” and the underlying white savior narrative
in the implication that the only chance for a good life that Kim or her son have
is for Chris to come back and take them to America. “You will be who you want to be.” Later media examples have often
perpetuated these early stereotypes. Numerous films have continued
to pair white men with Asian women, often without digging deeply into the
problematic power imbalance at play. “Let's just look at Phuong...
this beauty… mistress of an older, European man. Well that pretty well describes
the whole country, doesn't it?” Films like Sayonara,
The World of Suzie Wong, Year of the Dragon, and
The Quiet American reinforce the feeling that
Asian women are representative of an exotic “other” meant to be
dominated by white men. “I hated you in Vietnam.
So why do I want to fuck you so bad?” “I can't say what made me
fall in love with Vietnam. That a woman's voice can drug you?” Tom Cruise’s character Nathan Algren
in The Last Samurai actually ends up having a romantic relationship with a
Japanese woman, Taka, who he widowed. “I killed her husband?” “It was a good death.” The “white savior” element to many
of these stories implies that the woman is lucky that a man from a wealthy
Western country is interested in “rescuing” her. “How would you like staying with me?” This trope in turn emasculates Asian men,
suggesting they’re an inferior romantic option
compared to the white male — and contributing to the way that
Asian men are widely emasculated in American pop culture. “I did read somewhere that the people
that do worst on the apps are Asian men
and black women.” “Well, it's great white people finally
have an advantage somewhere.” Media portrayals also often exaggerate
the exoticness of the lotus blossom, particularly through the
way she dresses. In The World of Suzie Wong, a film about
the relationship that forms between Robert, an American architect,
and Suzie, a Hong Kong prostitute, it’s clear that Robert values Suzie
because of her foreignness. Robert disapproves of Suzie
wearing Western clothing, “You look like a cheap
European streetwalker.” claiming she’s more beautiful
wearing her “normal” clothes. “You haven't’ the faintest idea
what real beauty is.” But what he’s really saying is that he
wants Suzie to conform to his idea of what an “authentic”
Chinese girl looks like. And this “othering” of Asian women
through appearance has helped to perpetuate the stereotype that they
are actually different physically. “Every guy is going to leave you
for an Asian woman. They laugh like this because they know
men hate when women speak, and how do they bring it
on home for the win? Oh, the smallest vaginas in the game!” Meanwhile, Japan’s portrayal of
Asian women in anime and manga — in particular, the image of the
big-boobed, blushing Japanese schoolgirl — has also perpetuated the
lotus blossom stereotype among Western audiences,
because this kind of material is what sells. An adult obsession with these types of
characters is especially uncomfortable and problematic given their youth. Meanwhile, when portrayals of
Asian women on screen seek to move away from the
obedient lotus blossom type, they can end up conforming
to the dragon lady trope. “Sex is a weapon. In my club the women basically
control the dumb stick and take the men's money” Asian women of different nationalities
also tend to be homogenized onscreen, with a carelessness that reduces them
to generic Asianness. The film Memoirs of a Geisha, despite
taking place in Japan, came under criticism for casting Chinese actresses
for all three female lead roles. “You cannot call yourself a true geisha
until you can stop a man in his tracks with a single look.” Similarly, many Asian characters have
been given names which simply “sound” Asian by white creators, a practice
harkening back to the days of Fu Manchu, a stereotypical Chinese villain whose
name was made up by English novelist Sax Rohmer. “Death, to Fu Manchu.” “In the Face of Fu Manchu.” In Mean Girls, Trang Pak’s name “Trang Pak?” is actually the combination of a
Vietnamese surname and a Korean surname and Harry Potter’s Cho Chang combines
a Korean surname and a Chinese surname. The Office finds humor in Michael’s using
a sharpie to tell two Asian women apart — and even if the joke is supposed
to be Michael’s callousness, “Which one is she?” “It’s…
it’s one of those two.” it still reduces the characters
to set-up for this punchline. “This is now how he's going to be able
to determine which one of these women is his girlfriend. This moment really made me cringe.” “It made me cringe too. I just don't think this storyline would
have been written today.” Worst of all, media portrayals
of Asian women — whether through the lotus blossom
or the dragon lady trope — consistently emphasize their sexuality. And this is often mined for comedy. “Trang Pak made out with Coach Carr!
And so did Sun Jin Dinh!” “You little slut!” “You're the little slut!” In I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry,
the only Asian women in the film function as sexual objects meant solely
to reinforce Chuck’s heterosexuality. “The girls are here.
The girls, they want the Gatorade.” And there are numerous other examples
where sexualized Asian or Asian-American females are used as bit
parts or almost set dressing in a story that’s not really about them. “I'll take that one right there,
she's got to come.” “Oh yes, she's very nice.” “She is nice but I hurt my back
and my neck
and I need a little bit more massage,
so I’mma take her in the pink too.” This limited portrayal of Asian women
on screen in turn limits how Americans perceive Asian women in real life. “You know how many people have
said to me he's doing his lawyer, the Chinese dragon lady?” The fetishization of lotus blossoms has
undeniably contributed to the fact that Asian women are seen as the most
“desirable” racial group to date for men of all races,
as well as more likely to experience sexual violence from intimate partners
than any other racial group. The 2021 Atlanta shootings further
reveal how racism and misogyny are inextricably combined
in the problematic way Asian women are fetishized
in our society. “Asian women are always racialized
even if they’re sexualized” So where is the lotus blossom
trope today? In the past decade, there have been
a number of Asian women on screen who are not “china dolls”
or “dragon ladies,” but real, three-dimensional characters. “But all I saw was fear in your eyes.
And I was confused and scared constantly.” Ambitious, intimidating women like
Cristina Yang in Grey’s Anatomy and agent Melinda May
in Agents of SHIELD might come across as a stereotypical
dragon ladies at first, “Bambi, don’t say another word until
after the hunter shoots your mother,” but their emotional depth,
complexity and evolution make them much more than that. “Sometimes that's the price
of doing the right thing. No one will understand,
and it hurts like hell.” Films like Crazy Rich Asians and
Always Be My Maybe explore the complexity of a
relatable female Asian protagonist, as well as move away from
the practice of pairing Asian women with white men, letting fully-formed Asian male
protagonists take the spotlight. “Hello my name is Marcus,
with lyrics for your carcass.” These more recent portrayals also
explore Asian identity in a way that leaves behind the homogenized portrayals
of lotus blossoms in earlier media. In Crazy Rich Asians, Rachel struggles
with her identity as an Asian American in contrast to her boyfriend
Nick’s Singaporean family. “How are they different?
They’re Chinese, I’m Chinese.” “Yeah, but you grew up here.
You’re different.” Awkwafina’s character Billi in
The Farewell grapples with the difference between
her expectations and values as someone raised in America and
those of her Chinese family when dealing with her
grandmother’s cancer diagnosis. “That's the difference between the East
and the West. In the East,
a person's life is part of a whole.” Recent depictions of Asian women
in media have helped to break down the hypersexualization of the
lotus blossom and dragon lady tropes and showcase their humanity. “Because the more people you let
into your life the more can, um, just walk right out.” But despite this progress,
even in the past decade multiple films based on Asian source material
have cast white women as leads, denying those roles to Asian women
and preventing them from having the opportunities to dismantle
these stereotypes. “Oh captain ring...” “It’s Ng” “It’s the first movie with an asian lead
since Ghost in the Shell and Aloha.” “I’m sorry!”
And on social media, it’s clear that
the Lotus Blossom trope is still alive and well. In some cases, it’s even become a joke
for half white, half Asian kids to exploit. “My dad. My dad is a conservative
with an Asian fetish.” But it’s also clear that many people
still buy into it with dehumanizing and harmful results. And this objectification is
especially evident on dating apps. There’s nothing inherently wrong with
female Asian characters who are sexy badasses or
“perfect” wives — the problem comes when Asian or
Asian-American women often aren’t allowed to be anything else. “I also think Austin Powers
is very sexiful.” And as shown by the negative experiences
Asian women still encounter today, dehumanizing portrayals that reduce
these characters to fetishized, sexual objects “Why do Chinese girls taste different
from all other girls?” shape how our society views
and treats Asian women. “C’mon, we’re going to Asian Hooters.” In order to truly move past the trap
of the lotus blossom trope, Asian women need the opportunity to play
characters who challenge those narratives. And with 91 percent of executives
at major and mid-level studios being white as of last year,
that isn’t always so easy. Asian women are so much more
than lotus blossoms — and they deserve to be
seen that way onscreen. “I want to see the people who have been
stereotyped given their own story because the danger of a stereotype
is that they're one-dimensional.”
