When it comes to censorship, all writers develop skills to minimise risk of accusations.
Susan Conley, an author who grew up in Maine and lived in Beijing for more than two years, has shown us the style of mealy-mouthed language. In her memoir The Foremost Good Fortune, there are many occasions for touching the "Three T's and the One F" (Tibet, Taiwan, Tiananmen, and Falun Gong), but she prefers to dodge touching the taboo subjects.
Instead, Conley writes a candid story of her breast cancer during her stay in Beijing. Subjects like mastectomy, mortality, and median survival are better go unsaid. Behind these uncomfortable subjects, Conley faces the difficulty of walking on eggshells.
Should Conley mention the Camel Lights she smoked in high school? Can she? And what about the answer for her chance of being alive in ten years? And the odds to see her two boys graduate from high school? What about her boy's watching her armpit skin change after radiation? She nodded after her son suggested, "Mum, you've got to put sunscreen on there." For many subjects, Susan Conley chooses to keep her mouth shut.
Silent tears are mean't to be wiped, not to be heard.