Donovans 02 - Jade Island

through his sons.”
    “Well, the carver got the sex part of the pendant right. But the rest…” Kyle shrugged. “It’s more clinical than evocative.”
    “Exactly. I wish I could show you one of the pendants in the Tang vault. It’s this size and a bit better in color, but the skill of the carver was incredible. He used every minute variation in the jade’s natural color to enhance the theme. In fact, the first time I saw that pendant, I wondered if the fruit in Eden wasn’t a peach rather than an apple.”
    “You sure that’s supposed to be a peach?” Kyle said, eyeing the pendant Seng hoped to get rid of. “Looks more like a body part.”
    Lianne gave him a sideways look. “In China, the peach is a symbol of the vulva.”
    “A jade peach for a jade stem, is that it?”
    “Actually, the feminine form is more often called a jade pavilion. ‘Pleasure pavilion’ is another favorite. ‘The one square inch’ is also common.”
    Kyle tried to think of something neutral to say. He couldn’t. Of all the conversations he had expected to have with Lianne today, this wasn’t one of them.
    “In any case,” Lianne continued, “the pendant is supposed to be a Sung dynasty ornament for a concubine.”
    “Supposed to be? Don’t you think it is?”
    Lianne hesitated, remembering that everything she said or did was being monitored. She set down the pendant, rummaged in her shoulder bag, and pulled out a magnifying glass that came with a battery-powered light.
    “What are you looking for?” Kyle asked. “Tool marks?”
    “After a fashion. Before the age of machine power tools, the work went quite slowly. As a result, the designs were very clean, very distinct. Power gets the job donequicker, but not better. Overlapping corners in designs are a common result. The incised curves aren’t as clean or as smooth.”
    “Couldn’t stop the machinery before they overshot the mark, is that it?”
    “Yes. Look here, just inside the lip of the peach. It should be a single sensual curve. But it isn’t. It’s more a notchy ripple than a true curve.”
    Kyle picked up the magnifying glass and the pendant, looked, and saw the ragged incised line.
    “I think this piece was turned out by modern technology,” Lianne said, “not Sung dynasty craftsmen working with foot treadles and crushed garnet abrasive.”
    “So what do you think this jade is worth?”
    “A hundred dollars if you’re too busy to bargain. Ten if you find a hungry shop owner. There are stores in Hong Kong and Shanghai that stock racks of similar stuff. All modern.”
    “New jade. That’s what it’s called, isn’t it? Anything made after the nineteenth century.”
    “New jade,” she agreed, then smiled wryly. “Even if it’s a century old.”
    “That’s a quarter of American history.”
    “And, depending on how you count it, a fiftieth of China’s history,” she said, taking back the pendant. “To confuse matters even more, there are many Chinese who call all jade after the Han period ‘modern.’”
    “Everything for nearly the last two thousand years is modern? ”
    “To the Chinese, yes.”
    Lianne set down the pendant, made notations on her tablet, and went on to the next jade. She worked quickly, efficiently, talking in phrases and single Chinese words that spoke volumes of her knowledge. “ Pih , moss green. No particular artistry. Good polish. Subject not unusual.”
    “It looks like a man with his hand up a woman’s dress,” Kyle commented.
    “As I said, not unusual.” She picked up another jade,using both hands, for the piece was as big as a cantaloupe. “Several shades lighter than pih . Good artistry. Good-to-excellent use of the natural variation of the stone. Good polish, though modern. Too bad. If the polish had been done the old-fashioned way, by hand rubbing, the piece would be worth more. Hand rubbing gives a deeper luster.”
    “What about the subject?”
    “Not unusual.” Lianne set the jade aside, made notes, and continued down the table.
    Kyle stared at the jade she had just put back. Both figures were fully robed. The woman lay on her back in a languid posture, her hips in the lap of her lover and her legs over his shoulders. Something about the woman’s face suggested that she liked the position. The man certainly did. His head was tilted back as he climaxed.
    By the time Kyle caught up with Lianne, she was five jades ahead of him.
    “ Pi, indigo,” Lianne muttered, translating for Kyle’s