Category Archives: Canadian Asian Pacific American

Escape to Gold Mountain: A Graphic History of the Chinese in North America by David H.T. Wong

Canadian eco-architect David H.T. Wong‘s debut defies simple categorization: while clearly a graphic work for younger readers (much of the language is soooo totally tweenage vernacular), Escape covers some 200 years of history through the fictional story of a Chinese Canadian American family, also named Wong, whose experiences are based “on my own family’s experiences, and was inspired by the many elders and friends I’ve been fortunate to meet along my own journey of discovery,” Wong explains in his “Preface.” And because “racism knows no boundaries,” Wong weaves together the histories of both sides of the northern border: “The early Chinese did not differentiate between Canada and the United States. … The new continent was one: It was Gam Saan [Gold Mountain], the strange new land.”

At the suggestion of Grandma Wong, three teenagers head to the Museum of Migration in Vancouver, home of the “Iron Chink,” an early 1900s canning machine that replaced hundreds of mostly Chinese workers. Billy, the visibly non-Asian friend, reacts to the disturbing name with laughter while making slanty eyes with his fingers (some friend, huh?). After being duly chastised, the kids get a sobering history lesson from a tearful Grandma: “The Iron Chink … it represents a people’s pain and sadness. All we wanted was work. But we were Chinese … they said we were not like them. We were called all sorts of names … and Chinese people in this country were killed – only because they were ‘different.’”

The Wong family history, which began in the Americas 150 years ago, bears witness to the abusive conditions of building the most difficult sections of the U.S. Transcontinental Railroad, then completing the western section of the Canadian Pacific Railway, the deadly competition during the Gold Rush, and the often murderous purgings from one community after another. With rigid anti-immigration laws in both the U.S. and Canada, the first American Wong’s only opportunity for a family is a result of happenstance, when he adopts a young man also named Wong, who has just lost his brother to brutal overwork. The generations criss-cross the shared border, seeking refuge and work wherever they can find either (rarely both), losing loved ones, fighting wars, and proving their loyalties. Race-based immigration laws finally change (1965 in the U.S., 1967 in Canada), and even more decades pass before official apologies are rendered for the institutionalized racism of Canada’s Head Tax and Exclusion Laws in 2006, and the Resolution of Regret over the U.S. Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 passes in 2011 (U.S. Senate) and 2012 (U.S. House of Representatives).

Wong proves that pictures can indeed hold thousands (and thousands!) of words, capturing 200+ years of history in as many pages; he also includes a “Chinglish” glossary, a timeline that overlaps China and Gam Saan, maps, extensive notes, and a thorough bibliography. In his “Afterword,” he distinguishes his fictions from facts, including his penultimate chapter, “Old Foes, New Relations,” which he based on the life of WWII veteran Frank Wong whose daughter married a Canadian “whose father served for the Nazi regime”!

Beyond the print, Wong reveals in the book’s blog how his original title of The Iron Chink got nixed because of a (then-) Knicks incident – the now-infamous ‘Chink in the Armor’-Linsanity media blow-up. How soberingly ironic that even after centuries, that single word continues to cause such angry, hurtful controversy.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Nonfiction, Canadian Asian Pacific American, Chinese, Chinese American

The Headmaster’s Wager by Vincent Lam

Although Vincent Lam‘s first novel hit shelves months ago, I waited (and waited) to read it because I was afraid – seems to be my modus operandi for follow-up titles to books I’ve cherished, unable to move on for fear of grave disappointment. Lam’s interconnected story collection, Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures, arrived Stateside in 2007, having already made Lam the first-ever first-time author to win Canada’s top Giller Prize the year before. And how much did I love Cures? I just now noticed that the paperback edition comes with an excerpt of my review for San Francisco Chronicle across the top of the cover!

So I finally opened Wager with trepidation, and then because I couldn’t read while driving, running, folding the endless laundry late into the night, I also stuck the story in my ears (admirably read by Feodor Chin) whenever the book wasn’t open in my hands. No reason to interrupt four generations of Chen men because daily life must go on!

Wager pivots around Percival Chen, the titular headmaster of a Saigon English-language academy. Chinese-village born, British-educated by way of Hong Kong, Chen enjoys a privileged, wealthy life – gambling and womanizing being two of his favorite pastimes – in Cholon, the predominantly Chinese section of Saigon. He holds on to his perceived Chinese superiority, disdaining the locals as less-than-equals, especially dismayed when his only son is caught associating with one of the academy’s students.

In 1966, Vietnam’s turbulent politics literally arrive on Chen’s door. The secret police present Chen with a document demanding that “Vietnamese language instruction must be included in the curriculum of all schools, effectively immediately.” For Chen, who has never even bothered to learn well the language of his adopted country, the insult does not go unnoticed, nor does his uncooperative response sit well with authorities. When his son goes missing, Chen must rely on his confidante and employee, Mak (Lam’s most surprising, awe-striking creation – not to play favorites, ahem), to barter for his son’s life. Chen’s life all too soon becomes unrecognizable, as one of the most traumatic periods of modern history sweeps through.

Inspired by his Chinese expatriate Vietnamese family history, the Canadian-born Lam chooses a pivotal moment – the period before the Vietnam War – still relatively little known in western literature. He intertwines Asia’s violent colonial history (the French, Chinese, then American control of Vietnam, the British in Hong Kong, the Japanese in Hong Kong and China) and its internal civil destructions (the north/south Vietnamese split, the Chinese Cultural Revolution) with one family’s multi-generational, multi-country rise and fall from impoverished villager to American immigrant-to-be.

The result is another miraculous (literary) cure indeed. And with an utter sigh of relief, I can say with all confidence: Lam’s debut novel was well worth the wait!

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Canadian Asian Pacific American, Chinese, Vietnamese

Requiem by Frances Itani

While I can hardly estimate the many, many books I’ve read about the Japanese American experience during World War II, I know few details about what happened to Japanese Canadians. The lone fact that looms is that like their Japanese American counterparts on the West Coast, more than 20,000 Japanese Canadians along Canada’s west coast were also rounded up and imprisoned without cause to harsh camps. The one title I’ve read that puts a face to the unjust experiences of our northern neighbors is the modern classic, Obasan (and its middle grade version, Naomi’s Road) by Joy Kogawa. Until now …

Intentional or not, Frances Itani – whose best-known title, Deafening, won the 2004 Commonwealth Book Prize for Best Book (Caribbean and Canada) among numerous other honors – seems to be channeling Kogawa in her Requiem. In my own reading (alternating with Brian Nishii’s excellent narration stuck in my ears when the book was not in hand), Auntie Aya’s appearance in Itani’s latest provided the initial trigger: the eponymous Obasan in Kogawa’s autobiographical novel is also an Aunt Aya, whose full name is Ayako Nakane. Both titles also share a counterpoint structure, shifting between the defining events of World War II and a contemporary examination of things past.

At the risk of committing literary heresy, Requiem is the better novel. I pause for a moment in anticipation of the roaring objections to come …

Bin Okuma – who throughout his life has also answered to Oda Binosuke, Okuma Binosuke, Bin Oda, Ben Okuma – is newly widowed, his beloved wife having suddenly died of a stroke at just 49. Lena was the historian, the one who pieced together Bin’s family story, even as he tried to bury his anger, his melancholy, his unresolved mourning. Loading the car with the family dog Basil – quite the character in his own right – Bin literally journeys into his past, driving through his Canadian homeland, seeking the remote prison camp where he spent four years of his childhood, where his family was splintered and remade, where he might finally confront the man he calls “First Father.”

So aptly titled, Itani creates a resonating symphony of intertwined lives – separating, flowing, diverging, merging. Even as she captures moments of inexplicable violence (a father scarring his son with a careless toss), of systematic betrayal (reducing a man’s worth to just $18.85 for nothing more than the randomness of his ancestry), of shocking tragedy (a family giving away an extra son), Itani always remains in subtle control, modulating each detail with careful mastery.

Dare I say … the result warrants a (tear-stained, breath-taking) ovation.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2011 (Canada), 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ...Absolute Favorites, ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Canadian, Canadian Asian Pacific American, Japanese American

Ru by Kim Thúy, translated by Sheila Fischman

* STARRED REVIEW
The recipient of international accolades – including Canada’s coveted Governor General’s Award (2010) for its original Canadian debut in French – this extraordinary first novel unfolds like ethereal poetry. The enigmatic title means “a small stream and, figuratively, a flow, a discharge—of tears, blood, of money” in French; in Vietnamese, it’s a “lullaby, to lull.” Made up of spare vignettes that flow through decades, this autobiographical narrative reveals a girl’s journey from wealthy privilege in Vietnam; her reinvention as a war refugee in Canada; her return to her birth country, where she is considered “too fat to be Vietnamese” – not because of her stature, but because “the American dream had made me more substantial, heavier, weightier”; and her own overwhelming motherhood.

Verdict: Interwoven with glimpses of cousin Sao Mai who was Uncle Two’s princess, of a father “who always inspired the greatest, most wonderful happiness,” of Aunt Seven’s mystery son raised by Aunt Four, and of young cousins and what they innocently did on the streets to survive, this is much more than another immigration story. For readers in search of intricate, mesmerizing narrative, Ru will not disappoint.

Review: “Fiction,” Library Journal, August 15, 2012

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ...Absolute Favorites, ..Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Memoir, .Translation, Canadian Asian Pacific American, Vietnamese, Vietnamese American

back alleys and urban landscapes by Michael Cho

You could flip through Michael Cho‘s new graphic title in just a few minutes and pronounce if ‘read.’ But you’d be missing the whole point of the book … because it’s undoubtedly one of the better, gently contemplative ‘stop-and-smell-the-roses’ reminders to take a little break from our overscheduled lives.

Go ahead – take a breather and join longtime Toronto resident Cho as he celebrates his surroundings with five years (2006-2011) of visual musings, presented “in all kinds of media; watercolour, gouache, ink, markers and coloured dyes to name a few.” What began as a means to “fix that apathy” towards drawing landscapes (“the human figure had more interesting lines and rhythms”), comes to fruition in a beautifully simple volume filled with “familiar places, quiet and often hidden in plain sight.”

As the title suggests, back alleys, especially, get loving billing: “… when you know a city, you know its back alleys. It’s like a house: the dining room is in the front to show to guests, while the real living goes on in the kitchen in the back.”

From night shots with morphing light and beckoning shadows, to changing graffiti (expletives to “I’m always thinking of you”), to “the backs of downtown homes [which] are such organic and constantly evolving places,” to once unbroken horizons now filled with condos, Cho’s Toronto is both a celebration of the comforts of the familiar, and testimony to the inevitability of developing urban change.

How many times have you walked the same streets, rushed past the same block, and never really taken the time to soak in the details? Guilty as charged! Take the time now to remedy that – welcome to back alleys and urban landscapes. See what you’ve been missing … 

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Memoir, Canadian Asian Pacific American

Money Boy by Paul Yee

‘Gritty’ is the first word that comes to mind after finishing this slim young adult novel about a teenage Chinese immigrant’s struggles with his conservative father over his sexuality.

Ray Liu is new to the West. He’s left behind half his family in China, including his less-than-reliable mother, and his most beloved grandfather. He doesn’t speak English well and seems to be having a harder time adjusting to life in Toronto than his fellow immigrant friends. He’s not like his stepbrother, a dutiful son and high-achieving student who makes their parents so proud. Truth be told, Ray is most comfortable alone in his room playing computer games with friends he can’t see, much less have to talk to.

Then his father – a former army/police officer in China – discovers Ray’s secret, and proceeds to calmly throw Ray out of the house. Ray’s odyssey takes him through alleyways and shelters, facing violence and unexpected friendship. When he loses everything of value, he must decide if he’ll join the other ‘money boys’ on the streets to survive …

Third-generation Chinese Canadian Paul Yee, a historian by training whose Tales from Gold Mountain told the stories of early North American Chinese pioneers, explores the contemporary lives of newer immigrants. Unlike past generations whose homeland connections were virtually severed by thousands of distant miles, today’s immigrants have easy access via modern technology. Ray’s longing to go home to China, for example,  is temporarily quelled, albeit discouraged, by phone calls to his errant mother. The opportunity to go home, if only to visit, is very much a reality, as long as airfare can be found.

And yet for young Ray, living in a country that recognizes gay marriage (!) – in spite of his disapproving parents – is a vastly different alternative to returning to a homeland where homosexuality is barely acknowledged to even exist. For now, he can’t go back to China, he won’t go back to his judgmental father, but his options are quickly disappearing …

No rose-colored glasses mitigate Ray’s gritty experience on the streets. No sugar-coating, no magic wand, no avenging angel to save Ray from himself … life, indeed, is tough for the new immigrant. His journey proves eye-opening, hair-raising, and downright heartbreaking. Parents and young adults both – especially those who might be knocking heads more often than not – would do well to read this together. Sooner rather than later …

Readers: Young Adult

Published: 2011

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Filed under ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, Canadian Asian Pacific American

Last Airlift: A Vietnamese Orphan’s Rescue from War by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch

Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch is one of those mega-award-winning Canadian authors (with more than a dozen titles) who hasn’t crossed over our shared border (just yet!) with the same success. She’s best known for her historical novels for younger readers about what must be one of the most difficult subjects ever – children and war. Her latest, which debuted far north last fall, hits U.S. shelves next week (March already!). Airlift is Skrypuch’s first narrative nonfiction, the true story of Son Thi Anh Tuyet and her last days in her native Vietnam and her first days with her Canadian family.

Tuyet can’t remember life before she came to live in the Saigon orphanage with all the children, babies, and nuns. Her only memory of “outside” are occasional visits of a woman with a young boy, who may or may not have been her mother and brother. “‘After a while, they stopped coming.’”

On April 11, 1975, Tuyet is frantically packed into the back of a van with babies and toddlers strapped into makeshift boxes headed to the airport. She is one of 57 children on what will turn out to be the last Canadian airlift operation to save orphans from a war-torn Saigon on the verge of collapse. As an older child of 8 with a leg weakened by polio, Tuyet is convinced she’s been brought only to help care for the younger children; as long as she remains useful, perhaps she will not be sent back to the orphanage.

Her remarkable journey – filled with unfamiliar faces, words she cannot understand, a future that seems so uncertain – lands her with a family of her own. “‘You are my daughter,’” her new mother assures her even before she can understand the words, “‘Not my helper.’” “Grassswingplay,” her new father teaches her. And “‘sister,’” her new siblings call her with comforting hugs and kisses.

Enhanced with documents and a surprising number of photographs, Airlift is a touching, multi-layered experience. The strength of Skrypuch’s storytelling shows strongest in the smallest details: Tuyet’s wonder at discovering that stars are real things in the sky, her knowing better than the adults that to quiet the screaming babies is to place them close together, her doubt about “dads … [who] didn’t seem very real [as] she had never actually seen one.”

In the ending “Author’s Note,” Skrypuch explains how her initially intended novel became Tuyet’s narrative: ” … I was going to piece together a story of one orphan based on the experiences of many. But as I recreated these experiences from my research, an interesting thing happened. In small flashes, Tuyet bagan to remember more. … When Last Airlift was complete, Tuyet was overwhelmed by the fact that it was, in fact, her own story that had been reclaimed.”

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Biography, .Nonfiction, Canadian Asian Pacific American, Vietnamese, Vietnamese American

The Cat’s Table by Michael Ondaatje

With utter certainty, I can claim that I’ve never ever been remotely disappointed by a Michael Ondaatje title. Until now, alas. Here’s my very best advice to you about this, his long-awaited new title, The Cat’s Table: read it page by page for yourself only; do not choose the audible option, even as the venerable Ondaatje himself narrates. Really. At least with this work, Ondaatje’s voice unfortunately expresses a sense of detachment so visceral that bonding with the book’s protagonist proves difficult at best …

Perhaps his distance might be explained in the “Author’s Note” at title’s end, in which Ondaatje insists, “Although the novel sometimes uses the colouring and locations of memoir and autobiography, The Cat’s Table is fictional – from the captain and crew and all its passengers on the boat down to the narrator.” That narrator, ironically, is also named Michael, also born in Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), also moved to England at the age of 11, and also grew up to be a writer with a Canadian address. As if to downplay those similarities (but why?), Ondaatje’s voice unintentionally results in a disengaged, aloof narration.

In Colombo late at night, Michael, the 11-year-old narrator here, boards the big ship Oronsay alone: “… it was explained to me that after I’d crossed the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea and the Red Sea, and gone through the Suez Canal into the Mediterranean, I would arrive one morning on a small pier in England and my mother would meet me there.”

As the ship begins its journey, Michael is placed at Table 76 for his meals, also known as ‘the cat’s table’ – “the least privileged place,” he quickly learns. His tablemates include “two other boys roughly my age,” who become his adventurous companions throughout the voyage and beyond. One friendship will last a lifetime; the other will remain a spectral presence. Michael’s three-week passage will include other memorable characters – his beguiling distant cousin Emily, a mysterious criminal about whose offenses no one seems to be quite sure, late-night gambling bunkmates, and a young deaf girl who is magic on a trampoline. In between “Departure” and “Arrival,” Michael intersperses fragments from his adult life, fluidly passing from past, present, future, and back again, offering elliptical details of what followed that pivotal multi-sea crossing.

All my favorite literary elements are here: non-linear time, sparse but profound writing, characters with mysteries to be solved (or not), fateful reunions, etc. etc. If only had known to read, not listen; the iPod failed me for sure this time! So perhaps as I impatiently anticipate Ondaatje’s next book, I’ll have the time to re-read, re-discover. re-imagine Cat’s Table all for myself …

Readers: Adult

Published: 2011

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Canadian, Canadian Asian Pacific American, European, South Asian, South Asian American, Sri Lankan, Sri Lankan American

Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje

Before I let myself even open Michael Ondaatje’s newest title, The Cat’s Table, which hit shelves earlier this month, I was determined to read his previous novels that I had somehow missed. The realization that I have now earned access to Table is rather bittersweet as I know even more clearly that the wait for Ondaatje’s next book will be considerable (sniff, sniff).

Even more than his 1992 Booker Prize-winning The English Patient (which I feel I must now re-read), Anil’s Ghost proves to be a more lasting novel for me, as much for what appears on the printed page as what does not.

Anil Tissera, a forensic anthropologist, arrives in her native Sri Lanka after 15 years of living in the West, not so much because of family or cultural ties, but because she is sent by a Swiss human rights group to investigate the escalating numbers of alleged murders. The Sri Lankan government and various rebel factions have been carrying on a brutal, stealthy war for decades and the body count continues to multiply. Paired with a local archeologist, Sarath Diyasena, Anil is never quite sure whom she can trust. The two form an uneasy bond over a certain skeleton – dubbed Sailor (along with its companions, Tinker, Tailor, and Soldier) –whose murder Anil is determined to prove.

Fluidly passing back and forth from the present to disparate moments in the past, Ondaatje creates an elliptical landscape of a woman’s life in constant flux. Anil regularly discards parts of her life, from her given name (at 12, she buys her brother’s name from him for 100 rupees, a pen set, 50 cigarettes, “and a sexual favour”) to her married lover whom she leaves with a knife buried in his flesh with the admonition, “‘Remember this is what I did to you in Borrego Springs.’”

Her time in Sri Lanka will (predictably) be temporary; what she learns of her native country and especially its people – Sarath’s disgraced teacher-mentor, Sarath’s doctor brother Gamini, the sculptor Ananda and his disappeared wife – will eventually force her to flee. Her tenuous relationship with Sarath must come to an abrupt end, and she will again leave behind another unresolved life.

For every fact that Ondaatje (who is also Sri Lankan-born, and long Canadian-domiciled) presents, he invites new questions for which he does not offer clear answers. The ghosts throughout are many, not limited to Anil and her past selves, but even more the countless missing persons both named and unnamed. Part mystery, part thriller, perhaps even part memoir, Anil’s Ghost haunts long after the final page.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2000

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Canadian Asian Pacific American, South Asian, Sri Lankan

Wanting Mor by Rukhsana Khan

Sometimes even the saddest tragedies can eventually lead to happy new beginnings … even if the journey is a bit circuitous and challenging, to say the least!

When Jameela, a young Afghan girl, loses her Mor (the Pushto word for mother) to illness, she can’t imagine that anything worse can happen. Her mother was the kindest, most loving presence in her life. Born with a cleft lip she keeps hidden as much as possible, Jameela was well aware she would never be considered attractive, but her mother always told her, “‘If you can’t be beautiful, you should at least be good.’” And ‘good’ Jameela continues to try to be.

Left alone with her drinking, gambling, disappearing father, she is suddenly uprooted without warning from their small home village to the big city of Kabul. Jameela is quickly put to work as a house servant, and is uprooted again when her father unexpectedly remarries. Her new stepmother is selfish and abusive, although her new stepbrother seems to have a generous heart and tries to teach Jameela to read. But the brief, almost-family-like respite for Jameela doesn’t last long: her irresponsible father is easily manipulated by his new wife to abandon Jameela in a crowded market intersection. With nowhere to go, no one to turn to, Jameela must rely on the kindness of strangers to survive, but eventually she finds a home, new friends, and for the first time in her life, she finally begins her education.

Rukhsana Khan based her latest novel for young readers on the true story of another young girl, Sameela, documented in a single paragraph in “a report on children in crisis that was issued by Afghanistan’s department of orphanages,” she explains in her ending “Author’s Note.” Khan sets her story in 2001 just after the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan, already a ravaged nation. “When countries go to war, it is always civilians, especially children, who suffer the most.” Such simple, heartbreaking truth indeed.

Access to education will ensure Jameela’s future. Khan’s book is yet further testimony that educating girls can and will make the most lasting, powerful difference in changing the persistent tragedies of the world. Khan’s title, is both homage to Jameela’s mother, but also a fervent prayer for more, for education, for a future, for peace. Indeed, educate girls and the impossible will become possible.

Click here to see Khan’s other titles on BookDragon.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2009

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Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, Afghan, Canadian Asian Pacific American, Pakistani American