The Downstairs Girl offers a great heroine and a much-needed historical perspective

Stacey Lee’s The Downstairs Girl tells a compelling story about a Chinese American girl with a secret identity in Reconstruction-era Atlanta.

For some reason, there’s not a huge amount of historical fiction happening in the world of YA literature at the moment, but Stacey Lee’s The Downstairs Girl reminds us why there really needs to be. A charming, unique tale about a Chinese American girl struggling to survive in Reconstruction-era Atlanta, this book has so many things going for it.

A strong, capable heroine. A setting that feels utterly original. A twist that feels oh so fresh. And a charming romance that doesn’t overpower the rest of the story.

The Downstairs Girl follows the story of Jo Kuan, who must take a job as a lady’s maid for the cruel daughter of one of Atlanta’s richest men after being let go from her position in a hatmaker’s shop. (Apparently, her ethnicity was making some of the customers uncomfortable.) Being non-white, she doesn’t have much choice in the matter, since needs to make sure that she and her adopted Chinese immigrant grandfather eat.

For the most part, Jo’s life is an invisible one, existing in the margins of other people’s stories. She and Old Gin live a hidden existence in an abandon abolitionists’ hideout underneath a print shop. But when she discovers the printer’s family in the house above them is looking for an “agony aunt” for their paper, she anonymously applies for the post.

She then someone becomes “Miss Sweetie,” writing caustically funny commentary that pushes the boundaries of what’s considered acceptable by polite society. She encourages women to think for themselves, ride bikes, ask men to a charity dance, and basically do all sorts of things they aren’t supposed to. Naturally, Miss Sweetie’s column is an immediate hit and the talk of the town, giving Jo the kind of voice and influence she’s never had before.

But as Miss Sweetie’s popularity grows, so does the city’s desire to suss out her secret identity. And Jo finds it more and more difficult to balance the many moving pieces of her life, specifically when she stumbles onto an a mystery involving the identity of her real parents. But she remains strong and likable throughout, and a character that’s extremely easy to root for.

Beyond being a good writer, Jo is both clever and brave, willing to push her advantage when she can get away with it and always aware of her own intelligence and ability. Jo understands that she’s just as capable as anyone else, and that it’s only circumstance and prejudice that finds her passed over.

But what makes The Downstairs Girl  particularly worthy of note is the fully realized historical world that Jo and her fellow characters inhabit. The plot is both intersectional and interesting, telling the kind of story that is often ignored in this particular genre. Jo must confront difficult issues about race among her family and friends, and the story reckons with the difficult truths about the city in which they all live.

To be honest, it’s also refreshing to see a story that both realizes and demonstrates that Chinese people are also a part of the American story, and have been for generations. Jo’s personal story of discovering her own voice intertwines with several other significant historical moments, such as the women’s suffrage movement and the growing problem of segregation in Atlanta.

(Fair warning: The scenes in which Jo and her grandfather realize there’s no place for them anymore on the local streetcar they’ve ridden for years is a gut punch!)

We need more diverse historical fiction like this, that not only tells the stories we know, but that illuminates the past in a way we’ve never really considered before. Jo’s world feels real not just because it’s well written, but because it’s true to life. And that’s what ultimately helps make The Downstairs Girl such a compelling read.

The Downstairs Girl is available now.