When a woman speaks.

MANILA, Philippines - Whose life experiences are richer and more profound than a woman’s who manages it not with the weight of muscles, starving ego, or a bottle of wine but a heart that cares?

She is forever blamed for sharing the legendary apple as if the other had no will to rebuff it. She is among the 15 to 71 percent of women who reported having experienced physical/sexual abuse with their partners to the World Health Organization. She fed the “poorest of the poor” in India while everybody else was busy with papers that are either called money or laws. She raised Roosevelt, Luther and Confucius. Her death was the greatest pain for Hitler, and an early loss for Kim Jong-il. Despite a career blackout, morning sickness, and dark armpits, she’d carry a huge baggage below her breasts only to see it cut out in its ninth month.

But Empress Dowagi Cixi, who was raised as a typical rural girl, gave the face of womanhood a twist by making her way to politics and producing controversial yet remarkable changes in the history of China. Her life is the basis of Anchee Min’s book, Empress Orchid, which was lauded by the British Book Awards of Richard & Judy’s book club.

Min’s impressive research ability becomes more apparent as each page unfolds the plot not just with majestic events but with small amusing details, from the images on the walls of palaces to the gleaming ornaments on the garments and hairpieces of the concubines. Writing in the first person, the author — with her talent for storytelling — explored the emotions and wisdom of Orchid, the beautiful protagonist who embodies the persona of Cixi, as she struggled to give her family a good life by becoming Emperor Hsien Feng’s favorite lady, raising her son as a wise but benevolent emperor, and saving her own country from foreign wars and unremitting invasion.

Indeed, Orchid, in the real world, personifies not just another rags-to-riches princess but the daughter who wants to work abroad to send her siblings to school, the wife who keeps her man sane when fate becomes unkind to their business, the activist who wants her voice heard, and the friend who remains loyal despite one’s damaging jealousy. Aside from these roles, she is a fan of opera, poetry and nature. Most of all, she is just like any person who wants to love somebody and be loved by that somebody in every special way.

After playing in a circus of doubts, the evening that she has been waiting and preparing for comes: she is about to meet Emperor Hsien Feng and has sex—both for the first time. She is ready in the Emperor’s bed when he enters the room in distress and murmurs something about the British and the French troops pressing China to open its gates to them. Still preoccupied and angry, he goes to bed, and he and Orchid just stare at each other. After some moment, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, the Emperor is mad at her. But the young lady’s wit in reasoning, principles — rare for a woman — and guts to speak her mind impresses him so much that he becomes obsessed with her for a substantial period of time, leaving the other girls who are focused on dressing up and bearing a royal child, mere concubines and unlisted shadows in the imperial history.

But Orchid is flawed. She would never be the heroine who can save a bunch of kids from a falling bridge or stop a destructive meteor from landing on Earth. She loses easily loses hope and her self-esteem, especially when Hsien Feng seems to have forgotten to summon her for a date. She has conflicts with herself whenever she needs to choose between her conviction and reality. She may choose to be realistic at times but she only deals with it, never totally embracing it.

Min’s portrayal of the protagonist’s flaws only strengthens my reasons why discrimination against women is just a ghastly fart left over from traditional society. Her side has hookers, cheaters, drug users, and gossipmongers; but his court also has playboys, drug lords, prisoners, and discreet gossip channels.

A man, when suffering from a disease or sickness, is no longer the man society sees him when he is beside a woman, but a person whose health is declining and needs the help of people, regardless of their gender, name, or race.

Hsien Feng’s health deteriorates as the enemies gradually invade his country, its people, culture, and history. There are times when he can no longer respond to proposed treaties or make drafts in reply to the foreigners’ messages. He is lucky to have discovered the ability and “quick wit” of Orchid, who becomes his secret unofficial secretary, writing his arguments, analyzing strategies, and making critical suggestions about the country’s affairs. She is a keen observer and opinionated: “I was much more interested in learning what was going on in the countryside than listening to ministers who had never set foot outside Peking. I found most of the discussions boring and the solutions lacking in common sense.”

As the Emperor lay dying, politics restrains Orchid from exercising what she and her son deserve, but she paid no heed to danger and palace etiquette, and brings her son to his dying father to tell him to announce the boy as his successor. She becomes successful in this but she knows that it isn’t enough — she has to bring up the boy as not the spoiled prince that her rival, Nuharoo, wants him to be.

Orchid, through Min’s prose, proves that she is in every story of humankind, any person with a family, triumph or defeat in history, or a call for change. Her wisdom is boundless, experiences unparalleled, words lasting, and love unwavering.

So the world should listen — and learn — when a woman speaks.