Yvonne Hopkins
Immigration Journal
LITR 4333
Dr. White
April 22, 2001

Amy Tan was born to Chinese immigrant parents in Oakland, California, in 1952. Her father, John Tan, worked for the United States Information Service during the Second World War leaving China in 1947 to settle on America’s west coast. An electrical engineer by profession, he rejected the opportunity to study at MIT in favor of entering the Baptist ministry. Amy’s mother, Daisy, fled China in 1949 at a time of great political and personal turmoil. Once in the United States, she met and married John Tan. Together they had three children and lived in a number of places in Northern California before settling in Santa Clara.

Amy Tan’s upbringing exemplified the duality of assimilating into the dominant culture while retaining a strong foothold in Chinese tradition. As the children became immersed in American language and culture, John and Daisy Tan held fast to their Chinese heritage, and socialized largely within the Chinese community. However, they recognized the advantages of the American system and Amy Tan would later recall that her parents wanted their children to have "American circumstances and Chinese character" (2).

When Tan was fifteen, her father and older brother died of brain tumors within eight months of each other. The tragedy had a profound effect on the family. Daisy Tan revealed to Amy and her brother the circumstances of her life in China, and the fact that she had three surviving daughters from a previous marriage. Moreover, Daisy felt that the family home was now contaminated, and she arranged for the family to leave California in 1968. From there the family lived a nomadic existence sojourning in New York, Washington, and Florida before finally crossing to Europe and settling in Switzerland. Tan attended an international high school in Montreux, but her time in Switzerland was marked by teenage rebellion and conflict with her mother. After graduating from high school, the family returned to the San Francisco area. On her mother’s insistence, Tan enrolled in a small, conservative college in Oregon, but left after two semesters to relocate to school in San Jose in order to join her boyfriend, Louis DeMattei. At this point, Tan transferred from a pre-med program to pursue English and linguistics creating a rift with her mother who nurtured dreams of having a doctor in the family.

In 1974, Tan married De Mattei who was practicing law. She enrolled in a doctoral program in linguistics, but left to pursue a position as a language development consultant for the Alameda County Association for Retarded Citizens. Later, she became involved as a director for a training project for developmentally disabled children.

Tan had long nurtured dreams of becoming a writer. Along with a partner, she started a firm as a business writer, working on speeches for salesmen and corporate executives. During this period, she wrote under non-Chinese pseudonyms, and produced a number of manuals for different corporations including, IBM and AT&T. Although the business writing proved profitable, Tan felt increasingly dissatisfied, and began to write fiction as a creative outlet. Her first story, Endgame, was published in FM literary magazine and Seventeen. A second piece drew the attention of literary agent, Sandra Dijkstra, who encouraged Tan to work on a volume of stories with a view to publication.

Just as Tan’s career began to take off, her mother fell ill. As part of a reconciliatory move, Tan and her husband journeyed to China where the family was re-united with the three surviving daughters from Daisy Tan’s first marriage. The trip was an epiphany of sorts for Tan, as she gained a new understanding of her mother, as well as the Chinese culture. On returning from China, Tan began the completion of a volume of stories that would become The Joy Luck Club. On publication (1989), the book became an immediate critical and commercial success and went on to win many awards. In 1994, Tan wrote the screenplay for the film version of The Joy Luck Club. With the publication of her second successful novel, The Kitchen God’s Wife, Tan established her reputation as an important new voice and popular writer. Her latest novel, The Bonesetter’s Daughter is a tribute to her often-troubled relationship with her mother, who died shortly before the book was published.

The Joy Luck Club. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1989.

The Kitchen God’s Wife. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1991.

The Hundred Secret Senses. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1995.

The Bonesetter’s Daughter. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 2001.

The Moon Lady. New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1992.

The Chinese Siamese Cat. Macmillan Publishing Company, 1992.

"Mother Tongue." The Threepenny Review (Fall 1990).

"Peanut’s Fortune." Grand Street 10.2 (Winter 1991): 10.

"Two Kinds." The Atlantic 263.2 (February 1989): 53.

Shear’s article explores the generational differences and sense of cultural transition at the core of Amy Tan’s novel, The Joy Luck Club. Shear recalls the basic structure of the book as a series of narratives depicting the interrelated lives of mothers and daughters, and the separate and distinct experiences of the mothers. The article also draws comparisons to Maxine Hong Kingston’s Warrior Woman to elucidate the problem of generational conflict, and the relinquishing of an older culture for assimilation into the new dominant group. Essentially, Shear sees the conflict between mother and daughter as that of the old world versus the new. While the mothers appear capable of figuring out their worlds and problems, the daughters invariably become "caught in a sophisticated cultural trap," unsure of their place in "an ambivalent world" (195). This uncertainty, as Shear indicates, leads to the daughters repeatedly returning home to seek answers and a sense of identity.

Elsewhere, the article touches on the idea of exploring the mother-daughter conflict as an expression of female liberation and a means of differentiating between the Chinese and Chinese-American cultures. Raised according to Chinese custom, the mothers must endure the "inescapable fate" of subservience and lack of personal choice (196). Conversely, the daughters must grapple with different experiences and many choices often at the expense of the relationship between parent and child. Shear also notes that Tan’s novel exposes the diaspora as the fundamental reason for the fracturing of the Chinese family. Resoundingly though, he emphasizes that Tan seems to point to the acknowledgement of Chinese identity as a means to resolving generational conflict and creating unity.

Shear’s article covers familiar thematic content in The Joy Luck Club. To the writer’s credit, the article offers numerous instances from the novel to reinforce the points he wishes to make. Also, the references to Hong Kingston’s Warrior Woman lend authority to the historical context of women in traditional Chinese society, and the ensuing conflict when a new generation begins to flex its muscles, so to speak. Interestingly, Shear briefly mentions non-immigrant writers Faulkner, Anderson, and Hemingway as providing individual narratives that also connect to a larger societal shift in cultural values. This suggests that Tan’s subject matter and style have universal origins and appeal. In essence, while Tan writes from the perspective of a Chinese immigrant or Chinese- American, she inherently provides scenarios that reach beyond cultural barriers.

Another aspect of this article that seems particularly relevant in light of the fiction/non-fiction dialogues discussed in class is Shear’s comparison of personae in Warrior Woman and The Joy Luck Club. As Shear notes, the single narrator in Hong Kingston’s novel presents the clearly defined experiences of one individual; whereas Tan’s work presents a variety of narratives that together form the fabric of the novel. As such, a "feeling of fictional detachment" occurs between the reader and the multiple narrators, while also allowing Tan to create voices for two generations (199). Shear’s observations reinforce the notion that a single narrator lends autobiographical and non-fictional authenticity to a story. In contrast, multiple viewpoints create distance and fictional overtones.

In this section from the book’s first chapter, Amy Ling explores the origins of stereotypes of Chinese women in America, and goes on to discuss the characteristics of female Chinese writers. Ling notes that historically, Chinese women in America were so rare as to be considered "an exotic curiosity" (9). In fact, the initial waves of Chinese immigrants arriving in the mid 1800s were exclusively male laborers who sent money back to China to support their families. Notably, the first two female immigrants were a prostitute and a servant who unknowingly reinforced prevailing stereotypes of Chinese women as either dragon lady temptresses or lotus blossom virgins. Furthermore, Ling points to the perpetration of the stereotype in the popular media as late as the 1950s when the film, The World of Suzie Wong, combined the two elements to produce the figure of "the prostitute with the heart of the child" (12).

In reality, as Ling quickly points out, most female Chinese immigrants in the nineteenth century were working class and poorly educated. In contrast, the writers evolving from this period were of middle and upper class backgrounds. As daughters of diplomats or Christian families, many were educated in Western cultures and languages. However, as Ling indicates, once in America these women were subjected to the same racism as their working class peers. Moreover, the desire to write was considered egotistic and rebellious and in direct conflict with the Confucian code, which emphasized "modesty and reticence" as ideal modes of behavior for women (16). Further challenges for Chinese women writers arose from their status as not only as a minority group by race, but also by sex. Yet despite overwhelming obstacles, Ling observes that female Chinese writers outnumber male writers of Chinese ancestry. Furthermore their work, as Ling emphasizes, resounds with "authenticity," and, paradoxically, despite the cultural pressure to remain demure and silent their voices ring loud and strong (17).

This section forms a small part of an excellent study in the history and complex role of the female Chinese-American writer. In exploring the historical circumstances surrounding women writers, Ling exposes the valiant struggle of these pioneering women as they break free from stereotypes to forge their identities and pave the way for a new generation of authors. This idea parallels literary objective 2c of the immigrant narrative, as Ling clearly identifies the first generation of female Chinese-American writers as heroic. Elsewhere, Ling’s observations on race and class are insightful, demonstrating the vulnerability of Chinese-American women as minorities by race and sex. Here, Ling also relates the status of Chinese-American women to that of women in other minority groups, adding a universal appeal to the subject. Resoundingly, Ling’s portrayal of the Chinese-American female writer is both sensitive and realistic. Her highly readable text offers factual information and insights while retaining a sense of academic integrity. Overall, I found this to be an authoritative and significant study of Chinese-American female writers.

Huntley’s excerpt from his critical review of Amy Tan’s fiction discusses Tan’s personal view of her work and the literary community’s response. Huntley quotes Tan in various interviews revealing that the "driving force" behind her fiction is undeniably an interest in relationships and family issues (38). While allowing that her Chinese ancestry influences her work to a degree, Tan feels that the themes expressed in her work have universal appeal, transcending as it were, ethnic and cultural barriers. Moreover, as Huntley reveals, Tan suggests that labeling the work of minority authors as "ethnic literature" places too much emphasis on cultural and historical issues. In effect, the writer becomes responsible for representing a culture instead of creating literature through "story, language, and memory" (39).

In response to Tan’s comments, Huntley acknowledges the "universal concerns" expressed in her work, yet finds that the novels speak to the experiences of the Chinese-American ethnic group as part of the greater cultural structure of the nation (39). In essence, Huntley sees Tan as a voice for the Chinese-American community. However, he also recognizes that her critical and commercial success indicate that she is very much an American author in the broader sense with general appeal.

The first great waves of immigrants to the United States came from Europe, or the old world, entering the new world through the eastern seaboard. Yet beginning in the 1800s, a simultaneous movement occurred on the west coast as the first great influx of Chinese immigrants from the Far East arrived in search of gold. At the peak of the gold rush as many as 24,000 Chinese laborers toiled in California’s gold mines. Their highly visible presence and tendency to retain their Chinese ethnic identity and customs led to the idea that they were "inassimilable and therefore unacceptable" (Wei 1). As a result, many became victimized and subject to stringent immigration, labor, and tax laws. The fact remains however, that much of the economic foundation and infrastructure of the west was built on the backs of Chinese laborers (Ling 23).

As gold mining declined, many Chinese workers entered the agricultural workforce, while others moved to the cities where they found employment as cooks, launderers, and gardeners as well as domestic servants. Almost from the beginning of their arrival in America, the Chinese were subject to discriminatory measures that undermined their status and threatened their safety.

In the post gold rush bust, Chinese workers became the "scapegoat" for the anger and desperation of Americans facing economic hardship (Ling 23). In 1882, the Chinese Exclusion Act forbade entry to all Chinese except small numbers of diplomats, teachers, students, and tourists. In effect, for the first time in American history, a group of people was targeted as undesirable and unfit for entry to the United States. As a result, the numbers of Chinese in America declined during the period 1890-1920. Moreover the law seemingly sanctioned the growing notion of the Chinese as inferior people and therefore deserving of the persecution and hatred leveled at them.

The exclusion laws remained in effect until the Second World War when China became an ally of the United States. The Magnuson Act of 1943 allowed Chinese immigrants to seek citizenship, and a quota system allowed the admission of 105 immigrants on an annual basis. Historically, most Chinese immigrants were males whose wives and families remained in China. Previous immigration laws imposed great hardship and suffering, as families were unable to be together. This undermining of the family unit profoundly affected the maintenance of family ties, and many Chinese men were forced into lonely existences in almost exclusive male enclaves or Chinatowns (Wei 2).

American immigration policy towards the Chinese and Asians, in general, remained highly restrictive until the Immigration Act of1965. This act revised the discriminatory quota system, allowing for increased numbers of Chinese and Asian immigrants as a means to re-unite families. Since the change in policy, the number of Chinese immigrating to the United States has increased significantly. At the close of the 20^th century, 2.3 million Chinese-Americans were estimated to be part of the overall population of the United States. Moreover, their image as industrious, well-educated people inspires admiration, reflecting, as it does, the values at the core of the American dream.

When thousands of immigrants streamed through the portals of Ellis Island, New York, in the 19^th and 20^th centuries, they left an indelible impression on the national consciousness. Today, Ellis Island survives as a testament to the men and women from around the world who helped to build a new nation.

Yet the West Coast, in particular San Francisco, also became a port of entry for the many Asian immigrants drawn to America’s shores and the promise of a dream. Angel Island, in effect the western counterpart to Ellis Island, served as an immigration station in the San Francisco Bay area between 1910 and 1940. Here, Chinese immigrants were detained and questioned and often deported for failing to answer questions correctly, or prove they had husbands or fathers who were American citizens. Men and women were detained at separate facilities, frequently spending long periods, even years as prisoners until their fates were decided. The anger, sorrow, and frustrations of the detainees became manifest in the writings carved into the walls of the shelters. Sometimes written in verse, sometimes in the form of messages, the writings chronicle a time of persecution and suffering in the experiences of Chinese and Asian-American immigrants. A fire destroyed the administration building at Angel Island in 1941. Subsequently, the government closed the facility. Today, Angel Island has been restored as a museum serving as a monument to human suffering, but also endurance.

As previously noted by Amy Ling, the vast majority of Chinese immigrants pouring into America in the 1800s were largely poor and uneducated. Their purpose for entering the United States was economic. What is more, the exhausting toil of labor that defined their existence left neither time nor energy for creative pursuits. Consequently, what emerged as immigrant writing took the form of letters and journals written in various forms of Chinese by students, merchants, and diplomats (14-16).

A feature of many early writings is an anthropological emphasis on Chinese traditions giving rise to what Ling considers the "tourist guide" effect in which the writer provides the outsider with an inside glimpse of Chinese culture (16). One of the earliest examples of this style is Lee Yan Phou’s When I Was A Boy in China first published in 1887. Other writers perfecting this style include Lin Yutang whose prolific career flourished between the 1930s and 1960s and included the widely popular My Country and My People, Pardee Lowe-Father and Glorious Descendant (1943), and Jade Snow Wong—Fifth Chinese Daughter (1945). Criticisms of these writers and their works evolve from stereotypes embedded in the texts, which focus on unrealistic portrayals and disregard the often-harsh reality of Chinese life (Huntley 24).

Authentic depictions of Chinese immigrant life frequently surfaced in the fictional and autobiographical works of female Chinese-American writers. Two pioneers in this area were the Eurasian sisters Edith and Winifred Eaton who later published under the pseudonyms Sui Sin Far and Onoto Watanna. Of English and Chinese descent, the sisters began writing as early as 1888. For Sui Sin Far in particular, writing became a means to depict the racism implicit in the experiences and hardship encountered by first generation Chinese-Americans (Ling 26-28).

A break with the genteel, unworldly Chinese stereotype also came with the publication of Louis Chu’s Eat A Bowl of Tea, in 1961. Focusing on the period following World War 2, the book explores the tension and conflict between the older generation of immigrants and their younger, American-born children. Undoubtedly, this theme precipitated the focus of much of the works of later Chinese-American writers (Huntley 26).

The 1970s saw the rise of a new and significant group of Chinese-American writers who had basically matured in an "ethnic limbo" (Huntley 26). At the heart of their writing was a sense of belonging to neither the traditional Chinese heritage, nor the dominant culture into which they were born. In essence, their focus became the redefinition of Chinese-Americans beyond the prevailing stereotypes, creating a new cultural voice. One of the most successful of the new voices is Maxine Hong Kingston whose memoir, The Warrior Woman, garnered critical acclaim. Buoyed by the rising tide of feminism, Hong Kingston’s novel provided a powerful expose of growing up as a female Chinese-American in the United States. Hong Kingston followed-up with China Men (1980), a novel depicting the experiences of male Chinese immigrants and Chinese-Americans through several generations. Perhaps the most remarkable imprint of Chinese-American writing on the national and literary landscape was the publication of Amy Tan’s first novel, The Joy Luck Club in 1989. Reaching, as it did, beyond cultural boundaries, The Joy Luck Club established Amy Tan as a mainstream novelist with widespread appeal (Huntley 25-28).

For over a century, Chinese-American writing has slowly evolved to form a significant part of the American Literary Canon. That many of these writers, especially women, were able to overcome the obstacles of racism and oppression and give rise to new voices, testifies to their spirit and ingenuity. As the United States continues to build on the strengths of its immigrants, it will be interesting to follow the contributions of Chinese-Americans and other bi-cultural groups to the continuously evolving American literary scene.

Huntley, E.D. Amy Tan: A Critical Companion. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1998.

Ling, Amy. Between Worlds: Women Writers of Chinese Ancestry. Chinese Women in America. New York: Pergamon Press Inc., 1990

I arrived in the United States in 1980 fresh from the old world with dreams in hand. I am not sure what my real expectations were back then: certainly, I had come in search of new opportunities, primarily economic in nature. However, if anyone had told me I would still be here twenty years later and that my children would be born here, I probably would have laughed. I suppose it speaks volumes for Texas, if not for the nation, that not too long after settling in I felt at home. Much of this, of course, stems from the fact that outwardly I resemble the dominant culture. That is until I opened my mouth. My northern England brogue attracted attention. Invariably people wanted to know was I Irish? Scottish? Australian? Everything but English it seemed. My accent, therefore, became a talking point. Strangers would open up to me, wanting to discuss their heritage, as if I were some authority on the matter. This also made me aware of how open and friendly Texans are, which at first created a sense of culture shock as British people tend to be reserved sometimes to the point of rudeness.

Resoundingly, my experiences as an immigrant have been largely positive. I love the casual lifestyle in Texas, and the feeling of "can do" that is a part of the American ethos. However, two instances with the Immigration Service reminded me of how quickly circumstances can change. After living here for several months and getting married, I visited the Immigration Service in Houston to see about changing my visa status in order to obtain work. I was not prepared for the number of immigrants of all races lining up to plead their cases just like me. Moreover, the attitudes of the officials revealed that cute accent and all, I was still just a number, another immigrant clamoring to get into God’s country. On leaving the place, I felt defeated and depressed. It could take six months to a year to process the visa, and there were no guarantees. Fortunately, my husband’s company sent my passport back to the UK, where it was processed quickly by the U. S. embassy in London. I was lucky.

In another instance, I was returning from England with two small children in tow when the immigration officer questioned my visa. An interrogation ensued in which I was asked how did I plan to support myself? How much money was I bringing in? I had twenty dollars in my purse, I had come off a ten-hour flight and felt and looked ragged around the edges. My two little ones went suddenly quiet as if they sensed that mommy was in trouble. The children were U.S. citizens. Would they take the children and detain me? It is amazing what runs through your mind at such times. I had lived in the States for six years. We owned a home here, yet my situation seemed tenuous at best. The officer eventually recognized his mistake. He was looking at the wrong visa. Thankfully, a year later I gained permanent resident alien status.

My children have grown up with a sense of their British heritage, and as our families live in England they have visited the old country often. However, they are decidedly American with perhaps a small exception: my son prefers soccer to football—a genetic imprint. I shall probably become a nationalized citizen at some point in the future, and while there are some things about England that I shall always miss—toasted teacakes, the dry, irreverent humor of its people, and the smell of Autumn in the air—my home is here, in America, and I have no desire to leave.

Excerpts from an interview with Rachel Mathews who is originally from Southern India.

There’s nothing that we read about America that could conceivably imagine the impression that you have when you first come. It’s so vast, especially coming from a place that I’m from. It’s packed with trees. You hardly see the sky. Then coming to Houston it was the open skies, wide-open spaces as far as the eyes can see.

I’ve been lucky. I haven’t sensed that at all. But recently I’ve had my son through [that] maybe because he’s growing up, but he’s slightly darker in skin tone than I am, and he’s a little fella-12 years old- so he’s obviously uncertain about himself as a person… I’ve seen him troubled by people calling him names, especially since we moved to a predominantly white neighborhood…But I’ve told him he’ll find negative stereotyping everywhere, that there’ll be mean people. We try to counter it. One thing I find in the education field they enjoy having a person like me with a Master’s degree from India.

I’ve become a citizen of the world. Even when I teach-that’s how I introduce myself-I’m Mrs. World. [I] enjoy different types of food, relate to different people, enjoy different cultures. I see a universality that I wish everyone could see. Then we could have an identity.

I’m not a typical Indian because of my faith. We are separated people very like the Puritans…Separated from the different types of religion in India. I’m not a Hindu, I’m a Born Again Christian. So right there I was separated…The only thing I try to do with the children is to bring them up with the same sentiment that I was brought up [with]. But they have to counter a lot of things that I didn’t growing up in India—the media and things—so it’s a struggle—bigger problems we face.

Let’s talk about the Indian perspective of marriage that was your experience.

My marriage was an arranged marriage. The way it works is the family looks out for the best for the child, boy or girl. Friends, people in your community, religious bases, and class, because India has major class distinctions. We screen each other, bring families together, and people discuss things like that and that is why arranged marriages work. Hindus and Moslems go by the stars. Astrologers are called in to read whether people would be ideal partners. But I come from a Christian background. We don’t depend on any of these signs. Basically, it is based totally on the religious perspective specially because that was my choice. We have a lucky marriage because it’s the best of both worlds. We had our choices, we could say no. I think we lucked out.

I see the tendency of the arranged marriage continuing here for the second generation. People have married outside—inter-racial marriage—and it has caused hurt, divorces have happened. The second generation is trying to arm themselves against getting hurt. That’s where the community, whether it’s religious or culturally based, comes together and kids are growing up in the same background, and they’re meeting and marrying, and parents are happier. Happier in some ways because they are not bringing somebody from another culture or another race. So that’s what I’m seeing.

Yes. I feel that because love is a very strong emotion, but when financial difficulties come, then children come along suddenly the traditional hold you have brings conflict because you want your child to be brought up the way you were. Your partner would want the same, and then religion comes into it, of course. Unless somebody gives in.. then it’s fine.

I’ve sensed the gender difference—there’s a marked struggle because people of my age come here with an educational background and they have the ability to work here. Suddenly, the women are enjoying positions, which they never enjoyed back home. This achievement is growing a little threatening to the men. The new generation, the girls are much smarter, quicker, and much more capable. They are becoming self-sufficient, while the boys are becoming dependent on the parents especially the oldest sons. They take advantage—feed me, clothe me, put gas in my car—until they get married. The smart girls come across boys who are not totally capable, and that’s the next conflict where, I think, we are heading as an Indian community.

I love reading from Jane Eyre through to the current—Toni Morrison.

My interview with Rachel was fascinating. She covered so many issues from first generation immigrants to the new, religious influences, and gender. She emphasized the strong religious faith that reinforces her decisions, and drew comparisons with the Puritan Pilgrims whose faith also set them apart from the larger population of their culture. Also, in common with the Pilgrims, Rachel is not afraid to celebrate her spiritual and cultural traditions. Rather than viewing America as a melting pot of assimilation, Rachel points to the possibilities of retaining a sense of identity through pluralism. In effect, she is a citizen of the world while remaining true to her faith and heritage.