Daniel B. Stuart

Boil On Oh Melting Pot: The Dichotomy of the Immigrant Narrative, Its Fluctuating Perspectives and Changing Structure

For all of its descriptions as a “defining story or model of American culture,” the immigrant narrative is really a dichotomy of themes, its perspective one of dueling interpretations and delineated facets of the human condition—the good and the bad, or “the beauty and the pain” (Divakaruni, 83). On one hand, the concept of hope is well-represented. The indentured virtues of freedom, liberty and opportunity, meant not merely for individuals, but for entire families and nationalities, is a stronghold of constancy. Within the structure of such personal narratives like that of Yezierska’s “Bread Giver’s” or Mohr’s “The English Lesson,” it’s almost too easy to picture a personified form of the Statue of Liberty beckoning to the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free” to the secure, prosperous haven of America’s shores. For characters like Max Goldstein and Lali, the promise of opportunity, guaranteeing the “pursuit of happiness” to every immigran, is as true today as it ever was. Yet this Promised Land makes no full pledges of assurance. There can be no real fortified contracts, not even so much as a “good faith” agreement in regards to individual outcomes. And though the documented, overly edified doctrines of “certain unalienable rights,” of life and liberty, attempt to ensure that the American Dream will at least remain its theoretical equivalent, and not transform into an outright nightmare, there are no sureties that the immigrant experience will be void of grievous, even perilous encounters. Thus the contradiction of this very unique experience, though it’s one which no doubt applies to all Americans in some way, is represented through the characters and perspectives, the highs and the lows of America’s immigrants as embodied by a plethora of authors gifted with the talent and attributes to characterize the full diaspora of immigrant narrative.

Gish Jen’s “In The American Society” might be one of the most quintessentially successful American Dream stories. Upbeat and optimistic, it affirms the immigrant’s position while promoting its possibilities. Ralph Chang, as described by his daughter Callie, is a Chinese-American who manages immersion into all of the immigrant’s “stages” (and any sub-stages) as well as the process of appropriating the American Dream. There’s the departure (hinted at), arrival, acclimation, acculturation, achievement, assimilation and special acceptance and attention from the dominant culture as well as a final reassertion of the immigrant’s own identity. He and his family, by way of owning and managing a pancake house, are able to “get rich right away,” even though the venture had originally been undertaken to put the two daughters through college. Mr. Chang then becomes a beacon within his community and those who were once like him, to some degree aiding those who, like him, were seeking the better life. “If people not helping me, I’m not here today,” he says when even his family argues at Chang’s over-and-above efforts to aid those who can’t afford to “play hide-and-seek with those deportation guys” (Jen, 158, 165). Success continues for the Changs as they’re ultimately accepted to the local country club, boosted by the recommendation of a member who’s kept her own Jewish Heritage a secret. It gets even better when, ultimately, the situation builds to a confrontation in which Chang himself refuses to compromise his integrity by cowing to the inclinations of a prototypical unmarked American trying to patronize him. The story ends with a perfect icing on the cake—the Changs rejecting the opportunity to hobnob with the upper-crust types (who’ve presumably accepted them to a point), preferring the subtle joys afforded by their own familial attributes and the sublime feeling which comes from being proud of their own identities (Jen, 168-171).

While Gish Jen pens a cheery story with little in the way of tone, mood or even context to suggest anything truly dower--the characters never take themselves too seriously and never seem to need to—there’s a “marked” contrast between it and several other stories, among them “In the Land of the Free” by Siu Sin Far. In it another Chinese-American immigrant, Lae Choo, is the wife of Hom Hing, a man already in America, supposedly earning his fortune. This impression is short-lived for Lae Choo who runs the gamut from “shock, resistance, exploitation and discrimination” in quick order after she loses her infant child to the Customs department immediately upon arrival. It’s only a temporary separation, but the experience devastates Lae Choo, plummeting her into despair and immobility. The stunted prose of the story suggests this to be a potentially fatal point in the life and well-being of Lae Choo, and likely for the multitudes of other immigrants who’ve endured similar problems. Even when she receives her child back when, in the mind of the reader, things will conceivably be alright for the near future, there’s little to suggest that Lae Choo will never be the same, especially with respect to bridging the gap between her Chinese and American identities (Far, 3-11). Could this be construed as a resistance to assimilation or mere oppression and exploitation by the dominant culture? Or is it simply the narrative of a first generation immigrant, “heroic but clueless,” dealing with the pattern of conflict inherently involved in the process? It’s all of these, but it’s also this same dichotomy of “beauty” and “pain,” of the inevitability of suffering in the human condition, of a life which gives and takes away (quite literally so in the case of “In the Land of the Free”).

In his 2010 essay “Strangers in a Strange Land,” Charles Colson says that most immigrants assimilate eventually. Despite the urge to cling to ethnic identity and old world customs, immersion into the dominant culture is inevitable (Colson). This hints at the larger model of assimilation and conformity to the dominant culture, but it can never be reckoned as a formulaic blueprint. In “Silver Payments, Golden Roofs,” Chitra Divakaruni’s protagonist, Jayanti, is a young, college-age girl whose elected to leave her home in India—a rather lavish situation it should be noted—to live in America with her aunt and uncle in an “undesirable” area of Chicago. Ignorant of the perils of American domestic life as well as the economic predicament of her relatives, who’ve come down in the world owing to some tragic circumstances, Jayanti dreams of her “new” life, even meshing childhood fairy tale fancies with contemporary ambitions, not understanding the dismal, confined and even humiliating nature of what awaits her. By the end of the story, Jayanti is indoctrinated into the harsh realities of life in America, not only on the streets of Chicago where bigotry is openly paraded, but at home where despair and the weight of disillusionment have driven her uncle to violence and alcoholism, and her aunt to disgrace and degradation. Jayanti’s resilience in the final portion of the story says a lot about her character, but there’s the sense that, like her struggling aunt and uncle, the option to return home may present itself as a more welcome presentiment. It’s not out of the question. It’s a choice which exists more predominately for South Asian immigrants, but it’s not an unfamiliar model of migration and remigration among other ethnic bodies. Immigrants with the means to move towards the better deal will do so. This presents another element of the “immigrant narrative” previously not discussed, and yet another pattern blended into the “immigrant stages.” This element still abides within the dichotomy of “beauty” and “pain,” however. Jayanti will encounter both whether she chooses to stay or leave. So will many others.

Andrew Carnegie mentions literacy and education as a key to success and, by proxy, the American Dream. Others like Mohr, Jen and others allude to its benefits as well, but our nation as well as our world is reconfiguring itself under new parameters. The world is becoming “flatter.” Education, while still vital, can no more guarantee opportunity than it can merit immediate income. The American Dream is no longer solely “American.” Neither is it solely European or Indian or Canadian, but the “American” is eroding from the equation. Dominant culture, model minorities, inclusion of certain ethnic groups vs. certain others are still themes and, indeed, literary constructs which predominate the immigrant narrative, but the immigrant narrative itself is being transformed. The literature itself is being rewritten. And yet it is not merely graduating from one frame of reference to another, not just transitioning from one continental group to another, one model minority group to another, one linguistic group to another. The immigrant narrative is evolving beyond the basic stages. The “Old World” may now be the new (Mexico), the “journey” may be shorter and less of an issue, the “shock, resistance, etc.” may not exist at all (ethnic enclaves in which no English is spoken), assimilation is non-essential, and any rediscovery of ethnic identity is marginal. One thing will always remain the same within the migratory periods of humans—the inevitability of suffering and the potential for success.

Works Cited

Brown, Wesley and Amy Ling, eds. Imagining America: Stories From The Promised Land. Rev. Ed. New York: Persea, 2002.

Carnegie, Andrew. Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie. White, n.p. Web

Colson, Charles. Land of Broken Promises. 22 June 2010. Web.

Declaration of Independence. White, n.p. Web.

Divakaruni, Chitra. “Silver Pavements, Golden Roofs.” Imagining America: Stories From The Promised Land. New York: Persea, 2002. pp. 70-83.

Far, Sui Sin. “In the Land of the Free.” Imagining America: Stories From The Promised Land. New York: Persea, 2002. pp. 3-11.

Jen, Gish. “In the American Society.” Imagining America: Stories from the Promised Land. New York: Persea, 2002. pp. 158-171.

Mohr, Nicholasa. “The English Lesson.” Imagining America: Stories from the Promised Land. New York: Persea, 2002. pp. 21-34.

White, Craig. LITR 5731 Multicultural Literature: American Immigrant Literature. English Dept. UHCL. Web. 2012.

Yezierska, Anzia. “The Bread Givers.” White. Web.