This is a historically set piece, which is the saving grace for my enjoyment of The Color of Earth. I'm too cynical to otherwise appreciate a work about puberty as the blossoming of a woman's personal flower, in addition to perpetuating the idea that women are strange, mysterious creatures whose whims are unfathomable to menfolk.

In spite of that message the language is lyrical, a beautiful complement to the art style; both complex and simplistic, shifting tones with ease.