I'm sending this one off to my mother to read, as she is a graduate of the University of Iowa (Journalism/Drama), as was my father as well (BA, Chemistry; MA/MFA Painting), and because Ms. Chang was selected to chair the Iowa Writer's Workshop, and I expected something better. I had a very strong reaction to this book not only for that reason but because I am an avid fan of both Contemporary Asian Literature (especially from Taiwan and in translation from Chinese) and of Historical Fiction that deals with China and Asia.

I generally don't put in a review of a book I don't care for, or I should say, I generally do not release a book I didn't care for (which is all the more a shame that so many have had no response -- even those placed directly into others' hands: oddly enough, the one with the most responses is a fragile little paperback that I sent to one book crosser here who sent it to England and from there it went to Australia.), but since I am sending this on in hopes of getting others' reactions to it, as well as the whys, I am journaling it here and appending my Amazon review of it (which review has not been well-received).

It's a light read, to be read in an afternoon.

Imitative

I'm an avid reader of contemporary Asian fiction, so perhaps this book looked imitative to me as I was not fresh to the genre; however, I see there have been two kinds of responses to the book -- those who share my view and those who found the stories fresh.

I had been looking forward to reading the book and it arrived the day after the news that Ms. Chang had been selected to take over the prestigious chair, vacated by the lamentably late delightful Irishman Frank Conroy, as head of the Iowa Writer's Workshop. I rushed to read it with great expectations and was surprised to find the stories so imitative of those of other Asian American writers -- not fresh, but as if Ms. Chang had read and absorbed the experiences of others who wrote them with much more depth and evocation of feeling.

My first response in reading the last story in the book (probably an early one of hers) was, "Rule #1: write what you know," as the story came off as an attempt to retell others' stories with what she imagined their feelings to be, but with little insight into the characters; a pre-digested version of better-related tales.

My second response was, "Egad! This woman is leading a Writer's Workshop, I mean THE Writer's Workshop, and she doesn't have even the rudiments of using a comma down, doesn't know the difference between a restrictive and a non-restrictive clause?" Since Ms. Chang is American-born and a graduate of the University of Iowa, the basics of punctuation are not too much to expect. The number of flaws in the punctuation not only disturbed the flow of the writing but, in some cases, even interfered with the meaning of sentences. Picky picky, I know, but these went far beyond "poetic license:" they were errors in the most basic punctuation of compound and complex sentences. Many of these errors were avoided by her liberal use of simple sentences throughout, but when she ventured beyond the simple sentence, even to those with an introductory adverbial phrase of time, the lack of control/ability to use the simplest agreed-upon standards of punctuation was frightening. It was a lack of control, not an intentional use of punctuation for effect, as it did interfere with both flow and meaning.

Putting the obvious punctuation flaws aside, I still can't say I liked it. I'm not wild about the work of Amy Tan, overly prosaic next to the mastery of Maxine Hong Kingston and Timothy Mo, but next to Ms. Chang's work, Ms. Tan's loses any prosaic quality I might have ascribed to it. Ms. Tan's work is excellent for communicating the Asian-American experience and family dynamics to the general reader, while that of Timothy Mo and Maxine Kingston speak more to those who have had the opportunity to experience "Chinese Culture" in context, as they contain esoteric or metaphorical references to Chinese mythology, history, and culture.

I have to recommend to all the work of Maxine Kong Kingston as deeply understood and transmuted fables of her family tales in China Men and Warrior Woman, integrating also with them the fables and tales of China, and then, in writing what she knows (rule #1) as a Chinese American, the fabulous journey of spirit and experience in Monkey King (not to be confused with Timothy Mo's wonderful The Monkey King), all of which shift back and forth between the world of fable and reality, as in traditional Chinese literature -- and all of which stand up to repeated readings.

Back to Ms. Chang: I question Iowa University in this selection, but in fairness must say that perhaps she was selected because she may well be a brilliant teacher who will find her niche in helping others to find their voices; she, however, is still in search of her own.

I would suggest that, as preparation for her new position, she sit down and give a good focused read to Eats, Shoots, and Leaves or Eats Shoots and Leaves.





Lan Samantha Chang has hereby been cited by the Grammar Police for crimes against the English Language. (photo: Big Red of the Grammar Police)

Since my mom is a graduate of the University of Iowa, in Journalism, I sent this to her to get some feedback. I asked about it several times and finally heard, "Well, since what you wrote about it said it was so terrible, I didn''t see any point in reading it."
Where it is now is a mystery to me. If I run across it at her house when I''m there, I''ll set it loose in the hopes of someone finding it, reading it, and posting an opinion. A place like the original Trader Joe''s on Manhattan Beach Boulevard and Aviation would be a good release spot.