Resilience and Resistance: Reimagining marginality and agency in The Apothecary Diaries

Content warning: discussion of violence against sex workers, abuse, sexually transmitted disease, historical misogyny

Spoilers for The Apothecary Diaries Season 1

The Apothecary Diaries presents a richly detailed world inspired by dynastic China, where the social framework is deeply intertwined with notions of aestheticized masculinity and the romanticised construction of pleasure districts. Through the viewpoint of its protagonist, Maomao, who was raised in the red-light district and now works in the palace, the series delves into the complexities of these highly gendered settings, particularly through the lens of courtesanship and royal polygamy—two institutions that govern the lives of women in this society based on Confucian principles, and where various female characters nonetheless carve out their own agency within these structures. 

The series opens by portraying the red-light district (or hanamachi) not as a taboo, shadowy place but as a vibrant, bustling setting full of realized characters. This is clear even from the opening minutes of the anime: as Maomao navigates the narrow alleys of the hanamachi, she is greeted by the familiar rhythm of life. Traditional string instruments play lively music, autumn leaves fall, and red lanterns glow warmly from balconies, enhancing the district’s energy. The hanamachi pulses with life—from extravagantly dressed courtesans preparing for the night to customers haggling with the proprietress. The courtesans, draped in luxurious fabrics, exude elegance and allure, while young girls in training assist them in their intricate routines. This lively world, full of ritual and artistry, contrasts sharply with the rigid outside society, embodying survival and cultural expression.

While this place exists on the margins of so-called polite society due to its connection to the taboo world of sex work, Maomao’s matter-of-fact treatment of the district and the women who work there invites the audience to reject this notion that the hanamachi and its courtesans are somehow “other” or impure—they are, as Maomao’s interactions with them show, just people. This is a departure from the exoticized and dehumanized ways that other historical-inspired and/or fantasy series often treat sex workers. Though the energy of the setting is quite different, Maomao takes this same attitude to the concubines when she begins her indentured work at the Rear Palace. The Apothecary Diaries consistently treats its female characters with nuance and sympathy, and allows space in the narrative to explore how these different women react to and survive within the structures they have found themselves in.

The socio-historical setting

The socio-historical setting of The Apothecary Diaries is deeply embedded in a patriarchal order inspired by Confucian principles. These principles, which prioritize familial duty, social harmony, and a rigid hierarchy of gender roles, shape the external social order. Women, whether in the court or the pleasure district, are defined by their relation to men—wives, concubines, courtesans, mothers—and are expected to embody certain ideals of femininity and purity. As Ko, Haboush, and Piggott explain in their work Women and Confucian Cultures in Premodern China, Korea, and Japan, the state’s control over women’s bodies and labor reflects a Confucian worldview, where a woman’s worth is closely tied to her ability to conform to prescribed roles.

The State, governed by patriarchal principles, imposes a social order that seeks to control and define the roles of women, whether in the court or the pleasure districts. The external social order is one where Confucian ideals dictate the behaviour of all, but within the pleasure districts, there exists a counter-narrative—a space where women can negotiate their roles and assert a form of cultural purity that defies traditional notions of morality.

The series juxtaposes the royal harem and the red-light district, exploring the duality of these contrasting spaces. It delves into the overlapping emotions of desire and disgust, particularly in how society codifies the image of the “immoral woman.” This dichotomy, reflected in the societal roles of wives versus “the other woman,” serves as a focal point for stigmatisation based on social status and respectability, extending to a broader discussion on the complexities of women’s labor and work in a completely male-dominated society.  

The men who frequent the red-light districts are often portrayed as connoisseurs of the arts, embodying a form of masculinity that values poetic talent, cultural sophistication, and an appreciation for the finer things in life. As Visan explains in “Courtesan Love in Classical China” (2002), in this highly aestheticized structure, the courtesans, skilled in the arts, serve as both entertainers and symbols of “refined love.” Their role is to provide an experience that transcends the physical, elevating the encounter to one of cultural and intellectual exchange filled with passion and arousing desire. The courtesan’s “purity,” in this context, is not derived from chastity or obedience but from her mastery of the arts and her ability to elevate her patrons through culture. This dual role of the courtesans as both entertainers and sophisticated companions speaks to the broader social dynamics at play in the red-light districts, where performance—of femininity, of refinement, of love—is the core currency that governs interactions.

The constructed image of masculinity within these spaces mirrors the performance of femininity that the courtesans enact. The men’s pursuit of cultural refinement is directly tied to the courtesans’ ability to embody not just physical beauty but also intellectual and artistic talent. This relationship highlights the intertwined nature of performance and desire, where both masculinity and femininity are performed in ways that meet societal expectations of sophistication and cultural engagement. However, this dynamic does not occur in a vacuum. It is shaped by the broader social structures that define the pleasure districts, where power, gender roles, and social capital converge in complex ways. The courtesans’ visibility and their high status within the hanamachi speak to how they navigate these structures, using performance as both a survival mechanism and a means of social negotiation.

Performance and the female body

Many of the incidents that Maomao investigates in the series deal with the complex performances that the women of these settings must enact, both as a means of survival and a tool for navigating complex, and often precarious, social dynamics deeply intersecting with the sensibility of visual appeal. In the first mystery Maomao solves at the Rear Palace, Maomao’s revelation about the toxic makeup powder underscores the dangerous intersection of beauty, status, and health within the social dynamics of performance in the red-light district as well as the inner court. The use of high-end face powder, which ultimately poisons those who use it, becomes a symbol of the societal pressures placed on women to perform their beauty and their idealized, aestheticized social roles, often at the cost of their well-being. Maomao’s observation that many courtesans in the brothel she grew up in “traded their life for beauty and lost both in the end” encapsulates the central paradox of beauty in the world she inhabits: to survive and thrive, they must be beautiful, but the act of becoming beautiful may kill them. 

From Maomao’s point of view, this situation is not new or surprising. Her experiences in the red-light district have already exposed her to the brutal realities of how society commodifies and aestheticizes the female body. The knowledge she gained there—both practical and observational—allows her to quickly identify the cause of the illnesses in the court. This knowledge of both the practicalities and the mindset of working in the red-light district enables Maomao to navigate the court and to solve many of the medical mysteries that present themselves throughout the series. Maomao has no illusions and knows that beneath this glamorous spectacle lies exploitation and suffering. Maomao’s revelation disrupts this facade, exposing the harsh reality hidden beneath the surface. Her lamentation about the courtesans’ fate is steeped in a deep understanding of the societal forces that dehumanize women, reducing them to mere objects of beauty, whose worth is measured by their adherence to oppressive aesthetic norms.

The tragic history of Fengxian, Maomao’s mother, deepens the critique of the aestheticization of the female body and highlights the brutal consequences of a society that commodifies women based on their physical beauty. Fengxian’s decline from a high-ranking courtesan, admired for her astonishing beauty, to a destitute woman ravaged by syphilis, underscores the impermanence of beauty and the harsh realities that come after its supposed value perishes. In her prime, Fengxian was the epitome of the courtesan ideal: beautiful, refined, and intellectually gifted. Her ability to excel in strategy-based board games like Go not only elevated her status but also highlighted the dual expectations placed on courtesans to be both visually appealing and intellectually stimulating. This dual performance—of beauty and intellect—was essential to her success, as it allowed her to navigate the complex social dynamics of the red-light district and the court. Lakan’s description of Fengxian as a “balsam flower” encapsulates the romanticized elevation of her beauty, a beauty that was both admired and consumed by the society around her. When she loses that beauty—becoming almost unrecognizable due to the effects of untreated disease—she loses the social position and respect associated with it. 

Fengxian’s tragic story, alongside incidents like the makeup powder poisoning, highlights the fragility of value when it is attached primarily to the female body. In both cases, bodily decay equates to the loss of social and economic worth. Fengxian’s beauty, once her most prized asset, deteriorates as she falls victim to disease, symbolising the inevitable decline that comes with age or illness in a system that commodifies the female body. Likewise, the concubines risk losing their status and the stability of their life at court if they lose favor with the Emperor or lose their role as ideal wives and mothers—Lady Lihua becoming sick and losing her baby to the effects of the poison makeup is tragic for her as a mother, but it also makes her role in court more precarious. This commodification of the body turns it into a consumable asset, where beauty and allure are short-lived, and once lost, a woman’s social status and autonomy are greatly diminished. The performance of femininity, then, becomes a means of survival, but it is also inherently unstable, as it is tied to a fleeting, external ideal of beauty and youth.

Maomao’s lamentation and rage over the reuse of makeup powder in the Rear Palace, particularly by one of the concubine’s maids, opens a space of deep sympathy in the narrative. Her anger is not merely about the physical harm the powder causes but also about the insidious way in which beauty becomes a tool of self-destruction in the lives of women. Raised in the red-light district, Maomao understands the unspoken pressures placed on women to mold their bodies into objects of desire, even at the cost of their own well-being. Her decision to apply fake freckles to her “spotless” face to avoid catching anyone’s eye reflects a deliberate attempt to distance herself from her own body, rejecting the gaze that commodifies her appearance. This act of self-effacement is a form of rebellion against the male gaze, a defense mechanism in a world where beauty is both weaponized and perilous. Maomao’s voice, shaped by her upbringing in the brothel, becomes a representation of the quiet resistance many women adopt, hiding themselves to avoid being consumed by the very system that glorifies and destroys them.

Negotiating autonomy and community

The female characters do not have a lot of agency within these prescribed roles, however the anime shows the many ways that they may still assert autonomy within the specific limitations of their situation and the social expectations around it. Interestingly, while the society constantly labels and stigmatizes the profession of sex work and the location of the red-light district, the women living there strategically employ the very ideals of Confucianism to gain upward social mobility and reclaim negotiating power and agency. The courtesans’ mastery of poise, wit, charm, and the arts of conversation and allure elevates them to a status of high visibility, which carries significant political power, especially in the tightly regulated world of the red-light district. Their influence often extends beyond the brothel, as they become key figures in negotiations, politics, and power plays. 

A prime example of this is seen when Maomao leverages her connection to the Verdigris House to negotiate her exit from the Rear Palace with a military official. Despite her humble origins as the daughter of a courtesan and her position in the Rear Palace as a servant, her invocation of the high-status Verdigris House and the names of its powerful courtesans grants her the authority to influence the situation. This incident reveals the subtle but undeniable power held by elite courtesans, whose public visibility and societal recognition give them a voice in social affairs. Their connection to prominent figures within and outside the brothel allows them to navigate spaces of influence, demonstrating how their position transcends the purely transactional aspects of their work. Maomao’s ability to manipulate this system further underscores the internal hierarchy of the red-light district, where the elite courtesans hold both social and political capital that can be exercised in ways that impact larger power dynamics.

This very self-adornment of refined behaviour also becomes a strategic point of negotiating individual autonomy. Another incident that Maomao investigates concerns a well-dressed customer, embodying power, who had sweet-talked and deceived many women in the brothel, leaving devastation in his wake. His manipulation led one courtesan to take her own life. Determined to avenge her and others, another courtesan risked her life to poison him. Maomao intervenes, treating both the courtesan and the customer, but she later realises that the entire brothel had conspired in the murder. The proprietress silently hands Maomao a large sum of money to keep quiet, while the other courtesans subtly share their truths to encourage Maoamo’s sympathy for the avenging courtesan.

This incident exemplifies a geography of affect within the red-light district, where women re-construct familial dynamics through shared experiences and emotional bonds. The courtesans, bound by mutual pain and collective survival, form a sisterhood in the brothel, turning it into a space of care. Their internal social order, driven by deep emotional ties, is built on mutual support and solidarity, and a mutual understanding of the rigid expectations they all exist under—an understanding that enables them to cleverly move within, rather than against, the structures that marginalize them, retaining their autonomy while the overall system remains carefully in place. Through the murder plot, the courtesans’ voices are heard—not through overt defiance, but through subtle acts of resistance and everyday decisions that reflect their agency. This is portrayed in multiple episodes where the characters in the hanamachi are shown conspiring with each other, with the intention of achieving justice for one of them.

Despite the rigid structures around them, the women here are not merely passive recipients of the circumstances imposed upon them. They hold a degree of social and political sway by virtue of their position and the value attached to it, but they also actively shape their environment, asserting their autonomy through subtle, everyday acts of solidarity. Whether through the collective care they extend to one another or the ways they navigate the challenges of their lives, the women of the hanamachi demonstrate a profound agency that allows them to redefine their roles within this marginalized space.

Navigating the complexities of marginalization and power

The portrayal of the Verdigris House moves beyond simplistic binaries of oppressive social structures and individual agency, instead offering a layered understanding of courtesanship as both an institution and a marginalized social order. Through its depiction, the anime highlights the interplay between power, capital, and social hierarchy, showing that even within marginalized spaces, there are systems of influence and agency at play.

The Verdigris House is not depicted merely as a site of victimization or exploitation but as a high-class establishment with significant social and economic capital. Maomao’s observations about the brothel reveal that it wields enough influence to resist the simplistic designation of a marginalized, taboo space. The courtesans who work there, particularly the high-ranking ones, are treated as “public figures,” worshipped by their patrons like idols. This treatment reflects the cultural capital they accumulate by being skilled in not just physical beauty but in art, music, conversation, and strategy. The status of these courtesans complicates their marginalization, showing that they occupy a contradictory space: while they exist outside the bounds of conventional respectability, they hold enough power to influence their social standing within the community.

Maomao’s origins in the Verdigris House, while socially considered impure, are depicted as complex and multi-dimensional. Her upbringing in the brothel gives her access to a wealth of knowledge and experience that informs her understanding of the world, particularly in the realm of medicine and poisons, knowledge that enables her to take on roles with social capital of their own, such as the poison-tester for a high-ranking courtesan or (most relevant to the structure of the series) the unofficial court detective. While Maomao herself does not fit into the conventional role of a courtesan, her connection to the Verdigris House highlights the power and influence of the brothel as an institution, and Maomao’s perspective draws comparisons and juxtapositions between the red-light district and the imperial court. This portrayal complicates the notion of the brothel as merely a site of exploitation, showing it as a place of learning, resilience, and social mobility.

Conclusion

In The Apothecary Diaries, the portrayal of the red-light district and the inner court complicates the binary narrative of structured dehumanization and individual agency. The anime delves into the relational factors of exploitation, presenting marginality not as a fixed condition but as one constantly negotiated by its actors. The women in these spaces are not mere victims of societal constraints but complex individuals with nuanced personhoods. The series is not shy about depicting the suffering that this system can inflict—as with the plotlines about toxic beauty standards—but it also shows its female characters as savvy navigators of this system who plot, conspire, and use networks, information, and connections to survive and protect one another. This creates a mosaic of social interaction, where bonds are formed, strategies are devised, and spaces of love and affect are found amidst their struggles.

Maomao, with her unique background spanning both the red-light district and the inner court, acts as a bridge between these two institutional spaces. Her knowledge, rooted in the gritty realities of the hanamachi and honed by the politics of the court, becomes her power. By sharing this knowledge, Maomao transforms the spaces she navigates, revealing the hidden complexities within both the pleasure district and the palace. Her ability to manoeuvre between these worlds shows how power dynamics are not solely dictated by external structures but also by the individuals who inhabit them, making space for women to assert their autonomy and intelligence in unexpected ways.

Ultimately, The Apothecary Diaries re-imagines the social life of women in its fictional society, showcasing how, despite living in oppressive systems, women continuously negotiate their existence through resilience, intellect, and community. It is not just a tale of victimhood but one of survival, strategy, and the quiet, often unnoticed ways in which women carve out spaces of agency and meaning in a world that seeks to marginalise them. Through Maomao’s eyes, we witness the complexity of these women’s lives and the transformative power of shared knowledge, care, and solidarity.