The Joy Luck Club Read-Along Check-In #2

There is a Joy Luck Club (by Amy Tan) Read-Along hosted by 

Rachelle at The Reading Wench!

For this second Check-In we have read the last two chapters in the Feathers From a Thousand Li Away section: "The Red Candle" and "Moon Lady."

I am in disbelief about the (what I consider to be) bizarre beliefs accepted as 'traditions' in the Chinese culture as described by on this book. It would be a huge adjustment to live in a society based much more on accepted knowledge which disproves many of these superstitious beliefs. 

"The Red Candle" begins with a dramatic statement,
  I once sacrificed my life to keep my parents' promise. (49)
Wherein Lindo describes her betrothal at the age of only two years to a male infant one year younger than herself! Unbelievable, right?!? Lindo notes that her birth was not the result of a soldier promising her mother to return to her, and then marries someone else back in his own country, but rather "an earth horse for an earth sheep" as the matchmaker bragged of her--"the best marriage combination." This "earth sheep" was named...Tyan-yu--tyan for "sky," because he was so important, and yu, meaning "leftover," because when he was born his father was very sick and his family thought he might die. Tyan-yu would be the leftover of his father's spirit. But his father lived and his grandmother was scared the ghosts would turn their attention to this baby boy and take him instead. So they watched him carefully, make all his decisions, and he became very spoiled. 
  But even if I had known I was getting such a bad husband, I had no choice, now or later. That was how backward families in the country were. We were always the last to give up stupid old-fashioned customs. (51) 
Lindo's family then started treating her as if she belonged to the Huang family rather than their own,
  My mother did not treat me this way because she didn't love me. She would say this biting back her tongue, so she wouldn't wish for something that was no longer hers. (51)
Yikes! No way I could see myself doing that to my own child--any of it! Though I say that with the perspective of a 21st Century American, born and bred, and not a person living in the Chinese culture of this time. So who knows what I might have done as a matter of 'tradition.' Different times, different places, call for different actions. 

When Lindo is 12 years old, her family is flooded out of their home and land, with the current year's crop a total loss; they have nothing and are forced to relocate, though they decide she is now old enough to live with the Huang's. All their household belongings (covered with mud and soaking wet) are left as her dowry. I cannot imagine being given away to another family at the age of 12! Much as I might complain about my own mother, at least I had my grandmother as my main caregiver and she was kind and caring...how sad for Lindo! She basically became a slave in her future mother-in-law's house, learning how to do all the housework, cooking, etc., to the woman's expectations. The Huang's 
almost washed their thinking into my skin[.] I came to think of Tyan-yu as a god, someone whose opinions were worth much more than my own life. I came to think of Huang Taitai as my real mother, someone I wanted to please, someone I should follow and obey without question. 
  When I turned sixteen on the lunar new year, Huang Taitai told me she was ready to welcome a grandson by next spring. Even if I had not wanted to marry, where would I go live instead? Even though I was strong as a horse, how could I run away? The Japanese were in every corner of China. (57)
Then the Japanese invade their province and hardly anyone attends Lindo and Tyan-yu's wedding, which was quite the social affront at that time! As she prepares to be wed she thought to herself
I was strong I was pure. I had genuine thoughts inside that no one could see, that no one could ever take away from me. I was like the wind.
  I threw my head back and smiled proudly to myself. And then I draped the large embroidered red scarf over my face and covered these thoughts up. But underneath the scarf I will knew who I was. I made a promise to myself: I would always remember my parents' wishes, but I would never forget myself. (58)
And this is ultimately what saves Lindo--she saves herself! 

Initially, she was quite relieved to learn that Tyan-yu had no interest in sex, though her mother-in-law became very impatient for her to be pregnant. Lindo uses these superstitious beliefs about marriage to her advantage, convincing the her husband's family that she has been visited in a dream which told her one of the servants was actually Tyan-yu's spiritual wife and that she actually carried the child to be born to him...for Lindo knew the woman was pregnant and unwed, so everyone was happy, including her when she was bribed with tickets and enough money to emigrate to the U.S. Problem solved! :)

Ying-ying begins "The Moon Lady" by complaining about her daughter's life and lifestyle:
...I want to tell her this: We are lost, she and I, unseen and not seeing, unheard and not hearing, unknown by others. 
  I did not lose myself all at once. I rubbed out my face over the years washing away my pain, the same way carvings on stone are worn down by water. (67)
I love this passage!! So true of humans, we can indeed lose ourselves in just this way. (It adequately describes the last 10-12 years of my first marriage! I just worked at overlooking my lack of happiness until any thought of or consideration for it disappeared.) I made a solemn vow to myself to never again lose myself...
Ying-ying describes her experience as a 4-year-old child falling off the boat her parents had rented for the Moon Festival (Held on the fifteenth day of the eighth moon--the same day chosen for Lindo's wedding!) and becoming totally lost from anyone she knew.

Again, we see fear used as a motivator for 'good' behavior among children, as Ying-ying's caregiver/governess demonstrates:
  "What is a ceremony?" I asked as Amah slipped the jacket over my cotton underpants.
  "It is a proper way to behave. You do this and that, so the gods do not punish you," said Amah as she fastened by frog clasps.
  "What kind of punishment?" I asked boldly.
  "Too many questions!" cried Amah. You do not need to understand. Just behave, follow your mother's example. Light the incense, make an offering to the moon, bow your head. Do not shame me, Ying-ying." (69)
One of my college literature classes included one story written by an Indian author which described a man who had shamed himself, his family, and his society by losing all his money, so he disemboweled himself as a sacrifice/penance for his failure. I realize societies of the past have been based much more upon the reputation you maintain, especially through appearances and 'following the rules.' I am very glad that humanity appears to be evolving beyond such beliefs and standards for behavior, hopefully focusing much more on the motivations behind our actions and the sincerity, compassion, and philanthropic intent of our behaviors. 

I had to laugh out loud at all the equipment and food these people took with them onto this "boat," which must have been huge to hold everyone plus their accoutrements! :) The description of the two boys using the large bird to fish for them was fascinating...as was the description of her father eating a shrimp with its legs still wriggling!! (Yuck!) I love to eat shrimp, but I definitely prefer them dead and cooked first! I cannot imagine how frightened Ying-ying must have been to fall off the boat and then land in someone's fishing net! Fortunately, they treated her well, though they just left her on shore for whomever to claim. But that is when she saw "The Moon Lady" show! 
Of the Moon Lady character:
An eternity had passed since she last saw her husband, for this was her fate: to stay lost on the moon, forever seeking her own selfish wishes.
  "For woman is yin," she cried sadly, "the darkness within, where untempered passions lie. And man is yang, bright truth lighting our minds." (81)
Admittedly, this made me shiver with anger...how sexist!!! Ugh!! Ying-ying thinks to herself,
  At the end of her singing tale, I was crying, shaking with despair. Even though I did not understand her whole story, I understood her grief. In one small moment, we had both lost the world, and there was no way to get it back. (81)
Afterward, the crowd was invited to make their wish known to the Moon Lady so she could grant it, for a small fee, of course! Ying-ying wants the Moon Lady to grant her wish,
  "I have a wish," I said in a whisper, and still she did not hear me. So I walked closer yet, until I could see the face of the Moon Lady: shrunken cheeks, a broad oily nose, large glaring teeth, and red-stained eyes. A face so tired that she wearily pulled off her hair, her long gown fell from her shoulders. And as the secret wish fell from my lips, the Moon Lady looked at me and became a man. (82)
I couldn't help but chuckle at this! Can you imagine being only four years old, lost from your family, in only your underclothes and bare feet, in an absolutely unknown location, and then that shock?!? Poor child! 
...I remember everything that happened that day because it has happened many times in my life. The same innocence, trust, and restlessness, the wonder, fear, and loneliness. How I lost myself.
  I remember all these things. And tonight, on the fifteenth day of the eighth moon, I also remember what I asked the Moon Lady for so long ago. I wished to be found. (83)

Such traumatic experiences in childhood. I always marvel at the ways individuals can recover and continue living their lives after such events! Are you reading this book with us? Or have you read it? It truly is a picture of a culture/society very different in many ways from the one in which I have been raised. 

The Joy Luck Club Read-Along Check-In #1

There is a Joy Luck Club (by Amy Tan) Read-Along hosted by 

Rachelle at The Reading Wench!

For this first Check-In we have read the first two chapters in the Feathers From a Thousand Li Away section: "The Joy Luck Club" and "Scar."

The book begins with a one-page 'parable' of a woman who emigrates to the U.S. with a swan, one which I can only assume was a victim of taxidermy. Upon arrival, the immigration officials confiscate the swan, leaving her only one feather, which she plans to gift to her daughter:

  "This feather may look worthless, but it comes from afar and carries with it all my good intentions." And she waited, year after year, for the day she could tell her daughter this in perfect American English. (17) 

After reading this, I could only assume that day never came to pass for this Chinese woman...

The Joy Luck Club is comprised of four couples: the Woos, the Hsus, the Jongs, and the St. Clairs. We learn that Suyuan Woo, Jing-mei Woo's mother, founded this 'Club' in 1949 and has died just two short months ago. Although Jing-mei has learned English as Suyuan desired, she is obviously not well versed in Chinese:

  She said the two soups were almost the same, chabudwo. Or maybe she said butong, not the same thing at all. It was one of those Chinese expressions that means the better half of mixed intentions. I can never remember things I didn't understand in the first place. (19)

This definitely felt as if Jing-mei was at best disinterested in all things Chinese. Jing-mei's father asks that she serve as the fourth corner at the Joy Luck Club's mah jong table in her mother's stead. Suyuan had sensed that these other three women (An-mei Hsu, Lindo Jong, and Ying-ying St. Clair) 

...also had unspeakable tragedies they had left behind in China and hopes they couldn't begin to express in their fragile English. Or at least, [she] recognized the numbness in these women's faces. And she saw how quickly their eyes moved when she told them her idea for the Joy Luck Club. (20)

Suyuan had founded the first Joy Luck Club in Kweilin, China, where her first husband, a Kuomintang (military) officer, had delivered her and their two young children as a location deemed safe from the invading Japanese. 
  "The hostess had to serve special dyansyin foods to bring good fortune of all kinds--dumplings shaped like silver money ingots, long rice noodles for long life, boiled peanuts for conceiving sons, and of course, many good-luck oranges for a plentiful, sweet life." 
  (23)
I was struck by the superstitious symbols used in this culture. 

As she described the various immigrant factions living in exile in Kweilin, I felt grieved by the reality that this same travesty of justice and morality has continued unceasingly across the globe; there have always been various cultures/subcultures displaced by war...and, as we all are acutely aware, this continues in the present day. I never cease to be truly saddened by the fact that humans continue to mistreat, abuse, and kill each other. When will the peaceful 'collective consciousness' overtake the 'warring mentality'? I always hope it will be soon. :) (Just call me the eternal optimist!)
  "Each week one of us would host a party to raise money and to raise our spirits. We were a city of leftovers mixed together. If it hadn't been for the Japanese, there would have been plenty of reason for fighting to break out among these different people." (22)
Ironically, perhaps the displacement of war tends to make humans much more tolerable of their fellow refugees. Though that feeling doesn't seem to persist and prevail once a sense of 'normality' is restored to their everyday life...rather, it seems the old prejudices and discrimination take hold once more.

Suyuan's description of the underlying theory behind the first Joy Luck Club reads much like many of the 'New Age'/modern-day or ancient Eastern philosophical foundations: these few chose not "to sit and wait for our own death with proper somber faces," but rather to "choose our own happiness." I view this as realization of the locus of control...which was NOT within their power--their only choice was in their reaction to their circumstances. 
  "It's not that we had no heart or eyes for pain. We were all afraid. We all had our miseries. But to despair was to wish back for something already lost. Or to prolong what was already unbearable." (24)
Yes, so wise...leave the past in the past, live for and be in the moment--just be there! 'Just do it'! 
  "Each week we could forget past wrongs done to us. We weren't allowed to think a bad thought. We feasted, we laughed, we played games, lost and won, we told the best stories. And each week, we could hope to be lucky. That hope was our only joy. And that's how we came to call our little parties Joy Luck." (25)

As Jing-mei interacts with and watches the other 6 'Aunties' and 'Uncles' and her father, "it seems...my mother's life has been shelved for new business," since the only mention of her death is in the recited 'minutes' of the previous meeting. 
  I wonder what Auntie An-mei did to inspire a lifelong stream of criticism from my mother. Then again, it seemed my mother was always displeased with all her friends, with me, and even with my father. Something was always missing. Something always needed improving. Something was not in balance. This one or that had too much of one element, not enough of another. 
  The elements were from my mother's own version of organic chemistry. Each person is made of five elements, she told me.
  Too much fire and you had a bad temper....like my father...
  Too little wood and you bent too quickly to listen to other people's ideas, unable to stand on your own....like Auntie An-mei.
  Too much water and you flowed in too many directions, like myself...
  I used to dismiss her criticisms as just more of her Chinese superstitions, beliefs that conveniently fit the circumstances. (31)
Oh, can I ever relate! My own mother also constantly criticized and was always unhappy with everyone and everything in her life. Although perhaps Suyuan had valid reason as she may have never completely grieved the two children and first husband she was forced to abandon in China.  

The women retire to the mah jong table in a back room:
...I can tell before everyone sits down. The chair closest to the door has an emptiness to it. But the feeling doesn't really have to do with the chair. It's her place on the table. Without having anyone tell me, I knew her corner on the table was the East.
  The East is where things begin, my mother once told me, the direction from which the sun rises, where the wind comes from. (31)
As the other three women talk about her mother, Jing-mei realizes
...My mother and I never really understood one another. We translated each other's meanings and I seemed to hear less than what she said, and while my mother heard more. (37)
Though again, it sounds as if Suyuan was much like my mother with whom there really was no 'conversation,' rather you were simply forced to listen to a seemingly endless diatribe each time, hoping you weren't the target of the criticism and negative energy.

These women are the typical back-biting hypocritical females which I have always avoided, both in childhood and as an adult, "It's the same old game, everybody talking in circles." These women keep making back-handed comments as if playing a game of tennis, trying to pelt Jing-mei and each other with thinly veiled criticisms and jabs. Though in the end they prove their loyalty and kindness as they present Jing-mei with the address of her two sisters (Suyuan's first two children left in China) and $1200 to fly to Shanghai to tell them about her/their mother's death and life. Her aunties and uncles and father have all sacrificed their usual end-of-year banquet to send her to China so she can meet her two sisters. She realizes the symbolism in the fact that she is
  sitting at my mother's place at the mah jong table, on the East, where things begin. (41)
And this is certainly a beginning...

An-mei Hsu's story of the scar is heart-breaking and haunting. It is shocking to me to read of the stories told to children to scare them into 'behaving' well and to force them to always obey. I rarely ever used fear as a motivator with my own children, considering it to be ineffective in the long-term. You might believe you have accomplished good behavior in the short-term, but you have instilled so much more that is negative, and in my opinion, simply wrong.
...a ghost who tried to take children away, especially strong-willed little girls... (2) 
It is a certainty that ghost would have gotten me! :) Her mother has been exiled from the family and she and her brother are being raised by their aunt and uncle, and Popo, her grandmother, her mother's mother. Popo becomes very ill when An-mei is nine years old and her mother miraculously reappears and brews a special potion to try to save her mother. An-mei watched as her mother cut flesh from her arm and added it to the concoction. Popo did die that same night, though not before passing along some gems of wisdom:
  "If you are greedy, what is inside you is what makes you always hungry."
  "Your own thoughts are so busy swimming inside that everything else gets pushed out."
  Another time, Popo told me about a girl who refused to listen to her elders. One day this bad girl shook her head so vigorously to refuse her auntie's simple request that a little white ball fell from her ear and out poured all her brains, as clear as chicken broth. (43)
Yikes! How can anyone grow into adulthood and be halfway well-adjusted when they're fed such awful stories and visions? An-mei describes her aunt as having "a tongue like hungry scissors eating silk cloth." That kinda made sense to me, since I could easily describe my own mother using the same words. :)

Following the pot of scalding hot soup pouring on An-mei's neck when she was four years old, Popo described the funeral clothes made for her and informed her 
  "Even your mother has used up her tears and left. If you do not get well soon, she will forget you."
  Popo was very smart. I came hurrying back from the other world to find my mother. 
  (47)
The following could be used to describe both the physical healing of the burn and the emotional 'healing' of her mother's departure as mandated by her own family...
  In two years' time, my scar became pale and shiny and I had no memory of my mother. This is the way it is with a wound. The wound begins to close in on itself, to protect what is hurting so much. And once it is closed, you no longer see what is underneath, what started the pain. (47)

Have you read this book or any others written by Amy Tan? I am fascinated by this one. The Chinese culture with its superstitions and what appear to me to be far-fetched beliefs seem unbelievable. What a shock for those who immigrated into the U.S. Perhaps that is one reason Chinese immigrants tend to socialize only with other Chinese immigrants. At least I see that happen quite often amongst graduate students faculty on U.S. campuses. Your thoughts?