The Monday Book: SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING by Amy Tan

By now you know I have penchant for books about faraway places, especially when they are character-driven in their plot. And I love the way Amy Tan chops her ideas into tiny, stark phrases that say so much.

The title is a case in point. A fisherman saves fish from drowning, he tells a group of tourists just before he totally screws them over.

Tan has a way with dark comedy. This is not a friendly read. It’s got sharp edges, not to mention a dead protagonist. When you realize the book is about an art dealer who dies mysteriously just before leading a tour of eleven friends down the famous Burma Road, you think you’re getting a literary thriller. What you’re really getting is one long, wild, dangerous culture clash, as only Tan can write it.

Darker than The Joy Luck Club, just about as dark as The Kitchen God’s Wife, Fish has some amazing word pictures in it as well. You can smell the steam from the river, see the trees, and feel the terror and wonder and confusion.

And you get gems like this: describing the rescue of the protagonist’s hapless friends, Tan writes, “Most of [them] could have walked down, but after the twins said they wanted to be airlifted by the giant sling, everyone else did, too. Why not? It made for great TV visuals, all day long.”

She just has that acid-dipped honey voice running through the whole thing. It’s a great read, but be prepared to be ashamed of yourself for laughing.

GIRL IN TRANSLATION by Jean Kwok – THE MONDAY BOOK

Our December shopsitter Jennifer wrote a shelf review of this novel (something she started and we’ve kept up since) for this book, and I picked it up on her recommendation. It’s a fast read, perhaps slightly predictable, but Kwok’s writing is powerful in the way she constructs it. There are few surprises in this book, just the pleasure of that fast, confident writing.

The narrator is an immigrant from China with a very rough life, and the juxtaposition of her intellectual prowess at an Ivy League prep school against the work she does with her mother at a clothing factory gives the novel much of its power. It’s also autobiographical, and at the points where it gets most realistic, it pulls back. She expresses fury at her mother for being a doormat, then never mentions it again. That kind of thing.  The reader is left to ignore or fill in blanks.

This doesn’t really take away from the interest in reading, but it does make you feel rather voyeuristic; this book has a similar fascination to Random Family, but perhaps less direct impact. It’s fiction, based on real life, but fiction. Some stuff is nicer than real life, although I doubt much of it is worse.

The love triangle element is one of the most developed subplots of the book, making this a great bathtub or airplane read. It’s got some lovely teen angst moments that everyone can identify with.

If you’re intrigued by the hardness of big city life on families facing hardship to begin with, if Chinese culture in general fascinates you, if you like stories of overcoming, you’ll like this one. It’s almost fairy tale-esque in its ending. Honestly, it’s how well Kwok writes that saves this story from falling through the cracks. She has a lovely way with words, keeping them simple but strong.