The Lady Named Thunder: A Biography of Dr. Ethel Margaret Phillips (1876–1951)

Larissa Liepins is a Toronto-based freelance journalist.

Dr. Ethel Margaret Phillips would be an exceptional woman in any time
and place, but her ambition and independence made her truly remarkable
in Victorian England and Imperial China. In 1905, one month after
graduating in medicine from the University of Manchester (she was only
the third woman ever to have done so), Phillips sailed for China to take
up medical mission work. She remained there for the next 43 years.
Although she never married, Phillips adopted a boy from England and
raised him in Peking. That boy grew up to write this account of his
mother’s life.

Phillips’s arrival in China coincided with the decline of the British
Empire and the Boxer Rebellion, the latter a last attempt to suppress
foreign influence in China. There she faced the mistrust of foreigners
in general and missionaries in particular, not to mention centuries of
tradition and superstition that made it difficult to practise Western
medicine. But though her religious zeal diminished with time, the pains
she took to treat her impoverished patients won the respect of fellow
missionaries and locals alike. She also passed on her knowledge by
translating medical texts into Chinese and by training student doctors
and nurses.

Particularly committed to improving the health and circumstances of
women, Phillips single-handedly designed, raised funds for, and oversaw
the building of a modern women’s hospital—before she knew enough
Chinese to communicate properly with the builders and despite knowing
nothing of architecture or construction. It was at the hospital’s
grand opening that she received her Chinese name, “Thunder,”
bestowed on her by its tongue-lashed contractor.

Phillips’s story is most interesting during her darkest hours,
notably her brush with death from typhoid and her internment by the
Japanese. Unfortunately, such compelling scenes are few. While the
author covers a great deal of material, from the turbulent political
times to his mother’s personal and professional struggles, an
editor’s firm hand is conspicuously absent throughout. Disjointed
anecdotes, unnecessary detail, and the awkward insertion of historical
background impede the narrative flow. For this reason, the book will
appeal more to history buffs than to casual readers.