Showing posts with label local. Show all posts
Showing posts with label local. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Latehomecomer, Part II

I'm really enjoying the book so far. Lang Yang starts by telling the history of her parents, who meet in the Laotian jungle as their separate families hid for their lives from enemy soldiers. They marry amongst the bombs and the fighting, and even still certain traditions remained. A dowry is a must, even if they barely had enough food to last the day.

The family (a daughter, Dawb, is born on the jungle floor) eventually makes it across to Thailand where they spend several years in different refugee camps. Lang Yang is born here and her story begins. The following stories come from her memory (and probably some things her mother, father and grandmother told her about), and it's amazing how much she remembers, particularly smells and sounds. She's actually pretty happy in the camp (that's all she knows), but she can tell her parents yearn for a better life.

Soon the Thai government doesn't want the Hmong anymore and slowly over several years the U.S. government offers them homes here. We're the cause for why they're refugees of war anyway. (We convinced them to fight the "Secret War" against the Vietnamese and now they've been run out of their country for helping us.) Lang Yang and her family traveled here when she's six years old.

Her stories of the airplane ride and her first month in America, St. Paul to be specific, are extremely interesting. Americans didn't know what to think about these people entering our country, and Lang Yang and her family could tell. But her parents always stressed that their lives would be better here. Lang Yang spends several different moments throughout the book discussing whether this is really true. With all the struggling to learn the language, the customs, living on welfare, etc., is life really better?

As Lang Yang and her siblings grow up, it's very interesting to read about the pressure put on them by their parents (as with all the Hmong families she knew). Hmong children have to become adults quicker - their parents need them to translate. If they're ever ungrateful or distant (typical teenagers - at least typical American teenagers), the parents' disappointment is overwhelming. The pressure to do well, to go to college, to become successful is preceded with [me paraphrasing] "We traveled all the way here to give you a better life - don't go wasting it."

I'm glad I'm reading this book, especially since Lang Yang is near my age. She was right on the cusp of the immigration. She was born elsewhere, but spent a majority of her life here. Her younger brothers and sisters were born Americans. They'll never have those memories of Laos or Thailand. They'll never know personally the way it was - they only know the way life is now or the way it could be. I think this is a major reason why she wrote this book. Maybe she felt a sense of duty?

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

The Florist's Daughter

Sorry for the lack of posting. Too much work and winter sickness has kept me from reading anything this past week. But I started The Florist's Daughter, by St. Paul author Patricia Hampl, this morning. I've never read Hampl's work before (which is probably a disgrace for a writer from the Twin Cities) so I'm excited to get going on this one. Here's the synopsis from B&N online:

From Patricia Hampl, the author of Blue Arabesque, comes this thoughtful and affecting memoir, a meditation on the death of her parents. As Patricia holds on to her dying mother's hand with one hand, she begins to write her obituary with the other. "She would have expected nothing less," Patricia explains. "For the dutiful writer-daughter scribbling in the half-light, holding the dying hand while hitting the high points of her subject’s allegedly ordinary life that is finally going to see print."

From here, Patricia reflects on growing up middle class as the daughter of a florist and his wife in St. Paul, Minnesota. Whereas her father, a true artist, was obsessive about his flower arrangements, he was also inattentive to the outside world. She recounts the Midwestern values he clung to, even as he was losing his business to cheats. She also begins to understand how her mother, the feisty and distrustful daughter of Czech immigrants with an uncanny ability to tell a good story, almost lost her mind fighting their enemy.


In
The Florist's Daughter, Hampl once again exhibits her ability to capture the complexity and depth of her subjects, suggesting that what is most personal, can also be most elusive.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Pretty Little Mistakes, Part II

What else has happened to "me" while reading Pretty Little Mistakes?

1. Joined a cult
2. Moved to Duluth and baked pies at Betty's Pie Shop
3. Lied about a pregnancy to get a guy to marry me
4. Taught art in Minneapolis
5. Had an affair with an Italian millionaire
6. Designed shoes for Bergdorf's

I've figured out a better way to read this book. At least better for me. Instead of reading straight through a scenario and then starting over again, I mark my pages at each "choice" page. Then when I'm finished with one route, I go back to the previous section and choose the alternative. Once that route ends, I go back two sections and choose the alternative, and so on. I like this tactic because then I get to read the multiple endings to one storyline right after another - it feels more satisfying to me, plus it's easier to remember what paths I took. I'm not sure how long it will take to finish this book, but it could also be a good book to set down for awhile and pick up again later, since it reads so fast and it's more like a group of short stories, instead of a novel.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Pretty Little Mistakes

I started reading Pretty Little Mistakes this week. The book is written by Heather McElhatton, a producer for Minnesota Public Radio and a frequent contributor to NPR's This American Life. Do you remember Choose Your Own Adventure books from when you were younger? Pretty Little Mistakes is like that, but for adults.

Definitely for adults.

You start at high school graduation. Should you go to college, or travel? After you make that choice, 150 possible endings exist. So far, I'm enjoying it. It's a quicker read then I expected. I can get through one "life" in less than 20 minutes, which is nice for bus rides or reading before bed. Once you get through one life, you start over again. It's humorous, too. The one thing I find interesting is that so far I've tried to make the responsible choices: going to college, not dropping out, etc., and it ends up not working out so well for me. (These are just three examples, and out of 150 possible endings, I don't think it's spoiling things too much.)

Story 1:
I choose to go to college. I major in art. I form an artists' club. Other members decide to make a statement by streaking at the next football game. I choose to stay behind at club headquarters. While alone there, I'm sexually assaulted. The police never find the guy. Since I don't feel safe, I buy a gun. I see my attacker, but choose not to kill him. I choose to testify. The stress kills me and I die on the witness stand. I'm curious to find out what would happen if I killed him (or chose not to testify)?

Story 2:
I choose a science major, which is very stressful, but I choose not to drop out from the stress. Instead, I get addicted to meth. I graduate and become a pharmaceutical rep. I choose not to give doctors incentives to buy my product. I get fired. I get cancer from all the meth-taking. This story does end better, as I survive the cancer and make a difference in the end.

Story 3:
I choose to travel. I go to England. I meet an Indian transvestite and travel with her to her home country. I eat an apple there. I get hepatitis and die.

These ones just cracked me up, and as my first three trips through the book, made me wonder if any of my "lives" would end up happy. But, I've had some good stories, too. I'll keep you posted.