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2006-10-19 17:04
From: Irsis
(Hangzhou)
a review of The Joy Luck Club
   
Spoiler warning: key plot disclosed
Joy Luck Club is probably on the required-reading-list of every high school student and college literature majors, even more so, as in my case, of one that is in-between this Chinese-American culture. My computer broke down a few days ago, and it almost killed me. Not having anything to do, I opened this book, which my American aunt gave me two years ago.
She was a scientist, post-doctorate, an expert on universe physics, and a perfect example of the thousands of Chinese elites calling this English-speaking country "home", where they build their position though arduous work and unremitting persistence. She must have read the book a couple of times, I figured, as the cover is worn and the thread is becoming bare. What was in her mind when she was reading it? Why did she give the book to me,by coincidence, or was she expecting me to taste something in it?
Of course, to whom else could she give the book. I’m the only one in the family reads English. In fact, I was considered the most Americanized person not only in my family, but in my college as well. I speak flawless English, use Mac and iPod, watch the O.C. and Daily Show; I read New Yorker, tune in NPR, half-run to my class everyday with a mouthful of bread and a cup of Starbucks. And the thing is I care about America: politics, economics, entertainment, you name it. I could debate about American healthcare issues for two hours.
I always tell myself, you are English major, you are expected to know all of this and a lot more other things about America and the rest English-speaking countries. But I know it’s different. When our teacher read my first writing assignment, she asked "Have you stayed in America?" When a group of visiting students from UCLA and UCB talked me for a couple of minutes, they asked the same question. Even when an American misionary group came to give a drama performance, the promotion lady, Ellie, after I helped her handing out the tickets, asked if I’ve lived in America. "Why?" I was almost amazed, more than surprised, "I’ve never been abroad. What makes you think that way?" "Well" they have never given me a full answer.
At first, I felt good about myself, the American side of me. But then I began to fear if it appeared because the Chinese in me was losing. I was leaking. Drops of blood dripped from my vains, carrying away my Chinese identity. Then I desperately gasp for what is remained. Family. Family remained. I could only eat Western food, only listen to Western music, only watch western movies; I could change my accent to my hairstyle from Chinese to totally American, but I can never, ever, change my family. "And now I also see what part of me is Chinese. It is so obvious. It is my family. It is in our blood."
There may come a day when I go to live in America, as most people who know me believe I would, but I know deep down inside, I would always be Chinese. Just as I would never be able to cut off my family ties, I would never lose my Chinese identity. I’m no longer worried.
As you can see, Joy Luck Club made me think, and I love that. In those protagonists, I found something in common, maybe it’s what they call cultural resonance. Through their stories I found myself, the family I grew up in, the ideology and mentality I’m so familiar with. There’s good reason why it’s on every reading-list after all:
Quotes:
We were all afraid. We all had ourmiseries. But to despair was to wish back for something already lost. Or to prolong what was already unbearable.
I discovered that maybe it was fate all along, that faith was just an illusion that somehow you’re in control.
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By Amy Tan
Ivy Books
ISBN: 0804106304
Release Date: 1990-04-30
Mass Market Paperback
List Price: USD 7.99
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