Kristina McMorris, celebrated for Sold on a Monday and The Ways We Hide, continues her tradition of illuminating forgotten corners of history with The Girls of Good Fortune. Set in 1888 Portland, this historical fiction masterwork fuses mystery, cultural identity, and a woman’s fight for survival in a world determined to erase her. With atmospheric tension, emotional depth, and lyrical storytelling, McMorris delivers a novel that speaks not only of a specific time and place, but of generational silences and the power of self-determination.
The Storyline: What Lies Below Can Still Rise
The Girls of Good Fortune opens in stark captivity—Celia awakens in the depths of Portland’s infamous Shanghai Tunnels, dazed and dressed in unfamiliar clothing. The chilling reality dawns on her: she has been abducted and is about to be trafficked as forced labor. But this is only the surface.
Through flashbacks interwoven with her present desperation, readers piece together Celia’s transformation from domestic maid in the Bettencourt household to an unwilling witness in a scandal involving a deadly massacre of Chinese miners. Caught in a web of secrets, love, and betrayal, she must navigate both the visible dangers of her world and the invisible forces—prejudice, power, and loss—that threaten to consume her.
The Girls of Good Fortune is a survival story, yes, but also a quiet revolution. Celia’s journey isn’t just to escape the tunnels—it’s to reclaim her voice in a society determined to silence it.
The Cast: Complex Lives, Layered Loyalties
Celia Hart (aka Celia Chung):
As a protagonist, Celia is neither dramatic nor idealized. She is achingly human—thoughtful, cautious, brave. Her half-Chinese heritage defines much of her experience, yet it never wholly contains her. Her intelligence and resolve shape a compelling arc that is both deeply personal and socially revealing.
Stephen Bettencourt:
Stephen, son of Portland’s mayor and Celia’s secret love, embodies the quiet failings of privilege. Though he offers emotional refuge, his inability to act meaningfully when it counts reveals the moral cowardice of well-intentioned men.
Abigail and the Mayor:
Symbolizing societal duplicity, the Bettencourts represent progressive ideals only when convenient. Their public benevolence masks private indifference—particularly toward those who serve their household but remain invisible in their eyes.
Supporting Characters:
From Marie, a fellow housemaid whose quick wit and tenacity serve as a lifeline, to the miners and tunnel captives whose stories flicker through Celia’s memory, McMorris populates her world with voices that deepen the stakes and emotional resonance.
Key Themes Explored
- The Invisibility of the Marginalized: Celia’s entire existence is shaped by what society refuses to acknowledge—her ethnicity, her labor, her intelligence. The novel forces readers to confront how easy it is to overlook those who quietly keep the world running.
- Intergenerational Trauma and Memory: The story carries a haunting legacy, particularly in how past violence continues to shape Celia’s decisions. Her mother’s warnings, her own secrets, and the inheritance of silence reveal the burdens carried from one generation to the next.
- Love as Resistance: While the romantic thread with Stephen may lack urgency, it serves as a counterpoint to the novel’s darker undertones. More potent, however, is the love Celia has for a vulnerable child caught in the crossfire—love that fuels her fiercest acts of courage.
- The Cost of “Good Fortune”: The title’s irony becomes increasingly apparent as the story unfolds. For women like Celia, fortune—if it arrives—is seldom pure. It is hard-earned, often hidden, and frequently shaped by sacrifice.
Historical Context: Beneath Portland’s Cobblestones
McMorris grounds her novel in one of the Pacific Northwest’s most unsettling historical realities: the Shanghai Tunnels. These passageways were more than urban legend—they were the arteries of a city trafficking in human misery. The author doesn’t romanticize or exaggerate; instead, she paints a chilling portrait of these spaces as both literal prisons and symbols of systemic cruelty.
The Girls of Good Fortune also references real historical atrocities, such as the Hells Canyon massacre, where Chinese miners were ambushed and killed, their deaths largely unacknowledged by contemporary America. By integrating these details, McMorris restores dignity to forgotten victims and ensures readers cannot look away.
Portland in 1888 is depicted with a gritty beauty: opulent drawing rooms shadowed by injustice, sunlit streets that hide secrets, and a booming city perched on the back of exploited labor. Through evocative prose, we are not just told about history—we are made to feel its weight.
Writing Style: Precision with Poetry
Kristina McMorris’s writing is a blend of meticulous research, emotional sincerity, and narrative grace. Her language is evocative but grounded, immersing readers without overwhelming them.
- Sensory details evoke the dampness of the tunnels, the suffocating silence of social exclusion, and the stolen warmth of fleeting joy.
- Dialogue captures both the stiffness of class divides and the intimacy of shared struggle.
- Dual timelines are used effectively—not as a gimmick, but as a way to slowly unravel a story that demands patience and reflection.
McMorris’s style is ideal for historical fiction lovers who seek more than just period dressings. Her focus remains on the human experience within history—how the past doesn’t just live in books but echoes in our choices, fears, and aspirations.
Highlights: Why This Book Stands Out
- Authentic representation of biracial identity, particularly the nuances of passing and code-switching
- Searing commentary on historical anti-Chinese violence and systemic erasure
- A female protagonist who is courageous without being performative
- Immersive settings that span from upper-class parlors to underground cells with equal credibility
- Real historical events that are handled with sensitivity and accountability
Shortcomings: A Few Missed Notes
- Underexplored romance: The love story between Celia and Stephen feels secondary to the plot and lacks the emotional crescendo it promises.
- A few predictable twists: While most of the novel’s reveals are earned, a few moments feel telegraphed or conventional.
- Supporting characters as narrative devices: Characters like Calum and Matthew, while memorable, occasionally serve more as plot facilitators than full individuals.
These critiques, however, don’t detract from the overall impact of the story—they merely mark areas where McMorris’s ambitions slightly exceed the book’s execution.
Similar Reads and Influences
If The Girls of Good Fortune struck a chord, you might also enjoy:
- The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See – similarly explores female resilience and cultural suppression
- Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford – a moving account of Asian-American history during WWII
- The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich – blends historical fiction with indigenous narratives and systemic injustice
- The Paris Library by Janet Skeslien Charles – for fans of dual timelines and hidden legacies
McMorris’s previous novels—Sold on a Monday, Bridge of Scarlet Leaves, and The Pieces We Keep—share a similar ethos: stories born in silence, rescued by compassion and courage.
Conclusion: A Hidden Heroine in History’s Darkest Tunnels
The Girls of Good Fortune is a triumph of research, empathy, and narrative ambition. Through Celia’s story, Kristina McMorris illuminates the forgotten crevices of American history—those left out of textbooks but etched into the lives of those who lived them.
This isn’t merely a book about abduction or injustice—it’s about reclaiming identity in a world bent on suppression. It’s about how resilience doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it whispers through wooden floorboards, flickers in a candle’s light, or walks barefoot through the dark, determined to reach the surface.
With its timely themes, poignant prose, and unforgettable heroine, this is a novel that lingers long after the final page.