Alexa Ebert
Despite all that Jewel’s boyfriend does to her, she still bails him out of jail, because if she doesn’t help him, no one would. She gets so upset when Teddy is with another girl even though it means she won’t get beaten up anymore. Love is so powerful that people would willingly take pain to have love. This instance relates to the title of the novel because it depicts the idea of a valley of love. When you have nothing left, you can still have love deep inside of you to cause irrationality and pain.
Marian Stacey
The only thing that I could think of was that Francie was terrified of losing yet another person in her life and she superstitiously believed that if she and Mark had some form of similarity to bind them together they could not be separated. I think her superstitious nature also helped her decide what image she wanted to permanently place underneath her skin. Francie chose a “flower vine from an ancient Japanese panel,” which speaks to her ancestry on her mother’s side and her love of plant life. It’s also interesting to point out that although she initially asked if the flower could be red, she changed her mind after Carl told her that “red will fade. In about ten years all you’ll have left are the outlines and the other colors,” so Francie definitely wants to keep the tattoo as a symbol of permanence.
Angie Woodmansee
Though not overtly political, Yamamoto’s work nevertheless deals with social issues that were and continue to be relevant in the lives of her American readers. The difference is that she doesn’t beat the reader over the head, so to speak, with her politics. Yamamoto’s subtlety may trick the first-time reader into assuming that it reflects a lack of drive to provide thorough criticism, just as I was tricked in the beginning of Kadohata’s novel.
What makes these works so remarkable is that both authors allow their politics to speak through the narrative, as opposed to using their narrative solely as a tool for commentary. These texts are multifaceted, and they are all the more effective because they cannot be easily simplified and read as some sort of manifesto.
Mary Martin
America’s pockets of wealth are often inhabited by whites and by those fulfilling the “model minority” stereotype in examples like Typical American, A Gesture Life, and Better Luck Tomorrow. Yet Kadohata’s Richtowns of 2052 are explicitly white. Furthermore, the long exclusion of non-whites has yielded a veritable dichotomous racial demographic of “other.” Today’s pervasiveness of the term “model minority” and its suburban embodiment provides a stark contrast to race dynamics in Kadohata’s grim society. More noticeable than the Richtowns’ whiteness is the absence of the Asian American, or any minority, community. However, America’s reclaiming of this title and its social benefits from the Asian American community is not inconceivable since white acceptance of the model is repeatedly proved as a dichotomous construct to be freely given and taken from the literary and cinematic protagonists. The attempt to inhabit any grey space serves as a slow catalyst for Kadohata’s world.
Marlene McManus
Francie does not witness nor engage in personal racial/ethnic identity struggles due to the unique position race holds in the political and socioeconomic realities of Kadohata’s 2052 dystopian Los Angeles. Kadohata clearly states in her interview with Hsiu-chuan Lee for the MELUS journal that she chose to set her novel in that particular year so that she might literarily fulfill the predictions of “an article that said by the year 2052 white people would become a minority in the United States.” Francie, a half Japanese, half Chinese-black mixed-race character, is, in the year 2052, not a racial or ethnic minority, a fact that is no doubt difficult for present day American readers to process. The lines of difference that are drawn throughout the novel are primarily those between classes, not skin colors.
Response to Excerpts
What I found fascinating about the reading responses from this week was that there was such a wide range of topics discussed. Kadohata’s In the Heart of the Valley of Love was clearly different from the other novels we have read for this class, and so it comes as no surprise that we have lots to say about it. Angie’s observation that Kadohata’s novel is “multifaceted” cannot be contested: the novel critiques and brings up all manner of social constructs, from love and loss to permanence and class struggles. The brilliant manner in which Kadohata weaves the very basic and human emotions of love and the desire for constancy in with the “dystopian Los Angeles” that Marlene brought up really makes this novel unique. After I finished reading it – as lame as this will sound – my heart ached because of the overall sense of impending doom that looms over Francie and her community.
Angie’s comments on the subtlety of Kadohata’s politics, combined with Mary and Marlene’s points about how In the Heart of the Valley of Love focuses more on class than on race, resonated with me, but I also wanted to note that while race no longer seems to be a huge issue, it is still the white people who hold all the wealth and power, and so the “race card” still exists. Of course, such is the case in 2009, with socioeconomic status frequently correlating to race. I do like, however, that Kadohata included that small detail, as if to say that, yes, things have changed, but not that much, and certainly not for the best. On the other hand, as we noted in class on Friday, Francie and her friends do seem to operate outside of that awareness of socioeconomic imbalance. They focus on getting by rather than moving up the ladder, possibly because they know that the ladder is about to fall. This is where the more prominent themes of love, loss, and permanence come into play; they are important for the immediate survival of the soul and the person in a completely different way than wealth and status are.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I for one am thankful for this class and everyone involved in it. Thanks for making my Friday afternoons fun AND edumacatin'! =)
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
R6 Response
Rebecca Meekins
“The relationship that exist within In the Heart of the Valley of Love are extremely relevant as they provide refuge for the characters from this authoritarian state within which they now exist. Their lives are exactly the lives we fear: massive water shortages, extreme poverty, and an eroding culture. Yet somehow, In the Heart of the Valley of Love proves that even in those situations, anybody can find light.”
Anna Malefatto
“One of the major reflections of reality is the isolation of the wealthy and the white people form the rest of the poorer, racially diverse population. In this future, white is the minority, and that is not a difficult demographic to imagine, especially fro LA…Francie mentions the lack of white faces in crowds, or the diverse ethnic makeup of the people she sees on the street. However, this is not a point she ever dwells on too deeply.
Andrew Anderson
“From small details like Francie’s passing mention of a time “before nonwhites became the majority in the country” (Kadohata 76), we learn that the balance of race in America has shifted. Contrary to the emergence of an increased acceptance of nonwhites that we might naturally assume would take place in this situation, we instead see a world in which a decreasing minority is exercising an increasing amount of control over the majority of the population.
Sarah Feldberg
“Supposedly lung cancer is expected to afflict a startlingly high percentage of children born and raised in LA post-1990. Additionally, cancer is a political disease – I believe that ethnic minorities and impoverished populations have higher incidences of cancer due to environmental racism, jobs in manufacturing or industrial sectors, access to poorer-quality food and personal products, etc. Additionally cancer is often ruinously expensive to treat-as narratives in various magazines note – people often go into massive debt trying to obtain cutting edge treatments, and minorities and the poor also have higher death rates from cancer due to lack of access to quality health-care options.”
Veronica Bruscini
“Her everyday experiences – a mere forty three years distant from today’s realities – present a bleak future for the United States. “Just about everybody broke laws all the time.” Francie reports, matter-of-fact about this necessary mode of daily survival. “Occasionally.” She adds just as candidly, “the police arrested a randomly chosen person, and if you went searching for him or her, they might arrest you too” (Valley 13) Kadohata never names the extraordinary event which precipitates such dynamic changes to everyday life – economic and social upheaval, drastic shortages of natural resources
“The bus was full of poor people, old people, women, kids, and pickpockets. There was not a white face on the bus” (Kadohata, 88).
After reading the preceding responses and through my prior understanding of race and ethnic relations, I can see the reality in Kadohata’s novel set in the future. As Veronica mentions, the dynamic changes illustrated in the novel include social upheaval. Minorities become the majority and the majority becomes the minority and yet, the white race still obtains the wealth and power. In Kadohata’s novel, she shows that there is still a racial disconnect between the two groups. In today’s society, there is a growing number of immigrants and mixing among the races. There are a growing number of people of color in America. Anna mentions that the racially diverse population in the future is not hard to imagine. As I learned in my Cities and Suburbs class, almost half of today’s population is made up of racially diverse people. This percentage will only continue to grow in the future. In LA, there are more non-whites than whites by a small by growing percentage. Andrew writes that with the diminished white population comes a increase amount of control over the non-whites. This aspect in Valley is interesting because in today’s society, with the growing non-white population comes a growing number non-whites represented in local and national government.
There is a lot of economic turmoil in 2052 including disease shortages on food and water. It is not hard to understand the depravity and economic turmoil in LA at this time since it also reflects how LA is in today’s society. As Sarah mentions in her writing, there is a high percentage of children born and raised in LA post 1990s that will have lung cancer. There are parts of LA that are racially diverse are extremely poor and that reflects in the health of the residents. Since LA is growing in non-white population, does that mean that levels of poverty will increase as well? Kadohata presents a very plausible outlook on what the future might look like if we continue down our path of growth and consumption. Many futuristic novels and films focus on how man’s creation of technology will bring down mankind but Kadohata’s Valley focuses on how consumption will affect everyday lives and how race relations will always be a problem in society.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
R5 Excerpts and Responses - Marian Stacey
Since we were using quotes this week I'll post one of mine as well.
"'God, I've never seen anything like this[," said Pauline.] Propping her head on the window frame, gazing; but Jenny knew Pauline had been here before. She'd been one of those girls in a calico dress, lace-up shoes, sun-straing pinching her eyes, thin long hair always tangled and wild and not in proper braids. One day, the Crow Indians come along and attack her parents' farmstead, scalp her parents, burn the house to the ground, abduct her thrown over their shoulders, her lace-up boots kicking. And the next thing you know, she's tearing around on a horse, wearing paint, giving the Crows who've adopted her hell... Jenny could see it in Pauline's deep eyes, if not her time-refined features." (Choi 285)
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Mary Martin
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"(Surrender wasn't an option. Radicalism, Jenny thought sometimes, was like Catholocism, with its extreme self-referntiality, its strict liturgy, its all-explaining view of the world, its absolute Satan, and its deadly sins, of which surrender was one- the very worst.)" (Choi 328)
Choi draws an intriguing comparison in defining social and politcal radicalism using religious vocabulary. The ultimate form of social resistance becomes comparable to what can be deemed the ultimate act of social compliance. The same comparison suggests a societal binary dependent on one's belief of "the Truth." For the members of the SLA, "Truth" was the sinful injustice of the masses at the hands of the foverning body. Surrender at the hans of such evil was deemed intolerable. The same group equally embodies the remaining traits of Radicalism/Catholicism as chose by Choi. Even as the movement lost direction, their own "self-referntiality" allowed the remains of the movement to continually express the truth of the people.
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Jean Dao
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Throughout the entire book, Doc Hata comes off as rather socially compliant, never really speaking up for anyone - not even himself - except for the scene in which he defends K and claims that he will marry her once the war is over. Doc Hata allows life to watch over him and decides to simply take a perch off to the side, particularly after the war. As Sunny says (or rather, accuses) "... you're made it so everyone owes something to you. You give these gifts out, just like to that policewoman, Como. She can't stand to cross you because you're this nice sweet man who's given when he didn't have to or want to but did anyway. You burden with your generosity (Lee 95)." By setting himself up [as a model citizen,] Doc Hata never has to face serious confrontations and can live a peaceful - albeit complacent - life.
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Keen Hahn
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Jenny, the fugitive radical, takes a completely abnormal position working for a rich, white woman in order to hide herself:
"She's usually deeply ensconced in the house by now, after having boiled the water and spilled the box of cookies onto the dish and decanted the milk into the creamer and dropped the cubes of sugar into the sugar bowl with tongs - Miss Dolly is scrupulous about the use of tongs, to prevent spread of germs - and carried the rattling tray onto the porch with old woman bringing up the rear in her fragile, methodical way. And then politely ducking off to some project-in-progress, before any visitors come up the path. By that time she'll be lying well out of reach and nearly out of sight beneath the library ceiling, on her jerry-rigged scaffold [...] hiding from the ritual of teatime but anxiously listening. How's that lovely Oriental girl working out?" (Choi 56)
Jenny, someone characterized as a political dissident, willingly subjects herself to a position of servitude. Through her action of separation from "teatime" can be seen as definitively resistant gesture, a refusal to participate in the discourses of old money and cultural myopia, she fulfills the role of the invisible servant by doing so. She is at once complacent and resistant as she condemns and flouts one stereotype while she fully embodies another. Jenny cannot, in this situation, cleanly resist or submit. The cultural climate is such that, regardless or her action she will be perceived in the way that the majority wishes to see her, which calls into question any form of resistance, ... .
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Angie Woodmansee
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... neither complicity nor radical activism seems to be represented as a sustainable mode of social existence. Although I was initially pulled toward Jenny's activism and was disturbed by Hata's complicity, after finishing American Woman I was equally unsettled by the problems that Jenny's political environment poses. In consideration of the complexities that each character faces (including those to be found within themselves), I do not feel that either approach is completely condemned or approved by the authors. The characters and situations seem to indicate that social, political, and national identities are dynamic, and that to tie oneself to one with the intent of using it to structure the rest of one's life is, in essence, an act that contains its own inevitable disintegration. Time moves forward, history is reshaped it is progression, and the circumstances are never quite the same; if one acknowledges this, it is impossible to believe that a static identity will suffice for the rest of one's life.
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Dan Parker
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Doc Hata's adopted daughter Sunny, despite her promiscuous actions and dangerous decisions, neither grapples with [the] existential crisis of the suppressed self, nor acquiesces to the oppression of either the literal of the figurative patriarchy - her father or the town - by severing all connections with her reality the moment it becomes unsatisfactory, and venturing forth of a quest to embrace her Identity. Jenny Shimada willingly protests against the government to express her dissatisfaction with the Vietnam War and furthers the motivational endeavor of her cause by bombing unoccupied buildings, and then becoming an accessory to kidnapping and a felon for housing fugitives:
"While each of Pauline's pretrial hearings, and the results of her numerous psychiatric exams, and the fluctuations in her family's optimism about her case's outcome, continued to be news everywhere, Jenny was mentioned just a handful of times over all, and always fleetingly (Choi 353)"
Despite their valiant efforts to be heard, the feminine voices become silenced through the oppression of the governing patriarchy: Sunny returns to her severed home through a wordless card; KKutaeh, who faces the military by killing Captain Ono, is raped and hacked to death; and Jenny amount to a minor detail, drowned by the media.
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Response
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The line between radicalism and complicity is surprisingly easy to blur, and I think that's part of what was so fascinating about the Patty Hearst case. Think about it. The whole question about whether or not she was guilty or an example of Stockholm syndrome was a way of asking, "Was Patty Hearst a truly radical or was she merely complying to the will of a radical group?"
This week was all about questioning complicity and radicalism, and perhaps Mary's excerpt is the place to start. Mary found a quote which brings to light how demanding it can be to subscribe to a way of thinking, no matter how radical the intentions of the group are radicalism is still not wholly different from a two thousand year old construct. Add in the fact that catholicism in similie or metaphor is heavily weighted by connotations of a powerful force because catholicism is run by the Papacy, or humans which speak for God. However, the papacy is lead by the most noble, saintly, (male) catholics on earth, so they can't be all bad, right?
Jean's quote about Doc Hata brings up the point that doing good and complicity have allowed Doc Hata to passively control the people of Bedley Run. Sunny accuses Hata of playing so well into the model citizen that he has somehow morphed into a being who is beyond reproach, but because Doc Hata is so unwilling to speak against that idea he has no choice but to be what other people think he is. Keen points out that Jenny is just as much a victim of how people percieve her. After all, Jenny as "The Oriental" seamlessly blends into the role of invisible servant fixing up a mansion which represents the very power structure she is rebelling against. However, her greater loyalty to Radicalism will not allow her to surrender, but without William she has no way to combat the power structure. Ultimately, in order to fight another day she must hide in the construct she and her group have condemned.
Angie is right in saying that there is no way that one can forever cling to one set of ideals. In fact, many of the characters end up changing before the reader's eyes. However, Dan brings up the excellent point that it is difficult to understand the intricacies of each individual story because the media is intent on presenting us with what is the most radical.
"'God, I've never seen anything like this[," said Pauline.] Propping her head on the window frame, gazing; but Jenny knew Pauline had been here before. She'd been one of those girls in a calico dress, lace-up shoes, sun-straing pinching her eyes, thin long hair always tangled and wild and not in proper braids. One day, the Crow Indians come along and attack her parents' farmstead, scalp her parents, burn the house to the ground, abduct her thrown over their shoulders, her lace-up boots kicking. And the next thing you know, she's tearing around on a horse, wearing paint, giving the Crows who've adopted her hell... Jenny could see it in Pauline's deep eyes, if not her time-refined features." (Choi 285)
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Mary Martin
-----
"(Surrender wasn't an option. Radicalism, Jenny thought sometimes, was like Catholocism, with its extreme self-referntiality, its strict liturgy, its all-explaining view of the world, its absolute Satan, and its deadly sins, of which surrender was one- the very worst.)" (Choi 328)
Choi draws an intriguing comparison in defining social and politcal radicalism using religious vocabulary. The ultimate form of social resistance becomes comparable to what can be deemed the ultimate act of social compliance. The same comparison suggests a societal binary dependent on one's belief of "the Truth." For the members of the SLA, "Truth" was the sinful injustice of the masses at the hands of the foverning body. Surrender at the hans of such evil was deemed intolerable. The same group equally embodies the remaining traits of Radicalism/Catholicism as chose by Choi. Even as the movement lost direction, their own "self-referntiality" allowed the remains of the movement to continually express the truth of the people.
-----
-----
Jean Dao
-----
Throughout the entire book, Doc Hata comes off as rather socially compliant, never really speaking up for anyone - not even himself - except for the scene in which he defends K and claims that he will marry her once the war is over. Doc Hata allows life to watch over him and decides to simply take a perch off to the side, particularly after the war. As Sunny says (or rather, accuses) "... you're made it so everyone owes something to you. You give these gifts out, just like to that policewoman, Como. She can't stand to cross you because you're this nice sweet man who's given when he didn't have to or want to but did anyway. You burden with your generosity (Lee 95)." By setting himself up [as a model citizen,] Doc Hata never has to face serious confrontations and can live a peaceful - albeit complacent - life.
-----
-----
Keen Hahn
-----
Jenny, the fugitive radical, takes a completely abnormal position working for a rich, white woman in order to hide herself:
"She's usually deeply ensconced in the house by now, after having boiled the water and spilled the box of cookies onto the dish and decanted the milk into the creamer and dropped the cubes of sugar into the sugar bowl with tongs - Miss Dolly is scrupulous about the use of tongs, to prevent spread of germs - and carried the rattling tray onto the porch with old woman bringing up the rear in her fragile, methodical way. And then politely ducking off to some project-in-progress, before any visitors come up the path. By that time she'll be lying well out of reach and nearly out of sight beneath the library ceiling, on her jerry-rigged scaffold [...] hiding from the ritual of teatime but anxiously listening. How's that lovely Oriental girl working out?" (Choi 56)
Jenny, someone characterized as a political dissident, willingly subjects herself to a position of servitude. Through her action of separation from "teatime" can be seen as definitively resistant gesture, a refusal to participate in the discourses of old money and cultural myopia, she fulfills the role of the invisible servant by doing so. She is at once complacent and resistant as she condemns and flouts one stereotype while she fully embodies another. Jenny cannot, in this situation, cleanly resist or submit. The cultural climate is such that, regardless or her action she will be perceived in the way that the majority wishes to see her, which calls into question any form of resistance, ... .
-----
-----
Angie Woodmansee
-----
... neither complicity nor radical activism seems to be represented as a sustainable mode of social existence. Although I was initially pulled toward Jenny's activism and was disturbed by Hata's complicity, after finishing American Woman I was equally unsettled by the problems that Jenny's political environment poses. In consideration of the complexities that each character faces (including those to be found within themselves), I do not feel that either approach is completely condemned or approved by the authors. The characters and situations seem to indicate that social, political, and national identities are dynamic, and that to tie oneself to one with the intent of using it to structure the rest of one's life is, in essence, an act that contains its own inevitable disintegration. Time moves forward, history is reshaped it is progression, and the circumstances are never quite the same; if one acknowledges this, it is impossible to believe that a static identity will suffice for the rest of one's life.
-----
-----
Dan Parker
-----
Doc Hata's adopted daughter Sunny, despite her promiscuous actions and dangerous decisions, neither grapples with [the] existential crisis of the suppressed self, nor acquiesces to the oppression of either the literal of the figurative patriarchy - her father or the town - by severing all connections with her reality the moment it becomes unsatisfactory, and venturing forth of a quest to embrace her Identity. Jenny Shimada willingly protests against the government to express her dissatisfaction with the Vietnam War and furthers the motivational endeavor of her cause by bombing unoccupied buildings, and then becoming an accessory to kidnapping and a felon for housing fugitives:
"While each of Pauline's pretrial hearings, and the results of her numerous psychiatric exams, and the fluctuations in her family's optimism about her case's outcome, continued to be news everywhere, Jenny was mentioned just a handful of times over all, and always fleetingly (Choi 353)"
Despite their valiant efforts to be heard, the feminine voices become silenced through the oppression of the governing patriarchy: Sunny returns to her severed home through a wordless card; KKutaeh, who faces the military by killing Captain Ono, is raped and hacked to death; and Jenny amount to a minor detail, drowned by the media.
-----
-----
Response
-----
The line between radicalism and complicity is surprisingly easy to blur, and I think that's part of what was so fascinating about the Patty Hearst case. Think about it. The whole question about whether or not she was guilty or an example of Stockholm syndrome was a way of asking, "Was Patty Hearst a truly radical or was she merely complying to the will of a radical group?"
This week was all about questioning complicity and radicalism, and perhaps Mary's excerpt is the place to start. Mary found a quote which brings to light how demanding it can be to subscribe to a way of thinking, no matter how radical the intentions of the group are radicalism is still not wholly different from a two thousand year old construct. Add in the fact that catholicism in similie or metaphor is heavily weighted by connotations of a powerful force because catholicism is run by the Papacy, or humans which speak for God. However, the papacy is lead by the most noble, saintly, (male) catholics on earth, so they can't be all bad, right?
Jean's quote about Doc Hata brings up the point that doing good and complicity have allowed Doc Hata to passively control the people of Bedley Run. Sunny accuses Hata of playing so well into the model citizen that he has somehow morphed into a being who is beyond reproach, but because Doc Hata is so unwilling to speak against that idea he has no choice but to be what other people think he is. Keen points out that Jenny is just as much a victim of how people percieve her. After all, Jenny as "The Oriental" seamlessly blends into the role of invisible servant fixing up a mansion which represents the very power structure she is rebelling against. However, her greater loyalty to Radicalism will not allow her to surrender, but without William she has no way to combat the power structure. Ultimately, in order to fight another day she must hide in the construct she and her group have condemned.
Angie is right in saying that there is no way that one can forever cling to one set of ideals. In fact, many of the characters end up changing before the reader's eyes. However, Dan brings up the excellent point that it is difficult to understand the intricacies of each individual story because the media is intent on presenting us with what is the most radical.
Monday, November 16, 2009
R5 Excerpts and Response - Anna Malefatto
Sarah Feldberg
"Doc Hata's fascination with real-estate in A Gesture Life seemed to me to echo and expand on (and further problematize) the fetishization of certain distinctly American commodities....it becomes evident that the house Hata struggles to maintain never becomes a home - instead it's sterile, like a 'museum.' Additionally, the breakfast that he sets out for Sunny becomes one more empty, or purely aesthetic, gesture - a minimal, unobtrusive, and ultimately failed, attempt at communication with his errant daughter....I thought Jenny's tentative embrace of bourgeois/aesthetic pleasure also articulates a central thematic in Choi's novel - Choi and Jenny wonder how to appreciate beauty without celebrating conservative myths at the same time; how to save some modicum of pleasure without guilt."
Anushka Zafar
"By pointing out his Japanese heritage in defense of his behavior, Hata is giving into the stereotypical notion that Asian Americans are seen as 'model citizens.' In a way, it seems that he is giving into social complicity. Hata fails at resisting social complicity and it is clear...that he is in complete denial; he complies to the expectations of society be being 'number-one citizen,' and thinks it is aiding his attempt to assimilate into American society..."
Chang Liu
"In discussion about social complicity, it reveals that no matter how far they drive or how deep they hide, they cannot escape their compromised morality, their Americanness....[Hata's] appearance and reputation prevail over almost any other priority....It is this life of gestures that 'Doc' Franklin Hata lives that serves to eradicate his past and true emotions..."
Rebecca Meekins
"These novels exemplify the different effects one's history and race have on their actions within society. Doc's history binds him from coming within a certain emotional distance with his society, and Jenny's history suggests she is much more compliant than she actually is."
Veronica Bruscini
"These novels blur the question of agency even further in specific episodes for Hata and Jenny. Hata, in his recollections of youth and old age, goes through great lengths to demonstrate his 'gesture life,' on one based on observation and inaction; his narrative is so skillfully wrought that when he does act - physically taking advantage of K - it almost blends into the rest of his story. These encounters with K solidify Hata's inability to form deep, interpersonal connections, even within the circle of his closest friends and associates, and he remains a solitary figure through the rest of his life. Jenny's meticulously planned and crafted bombings are designed to spare lives and still make a statement, destroying buildings that house the government agencies she opposes. Yet reflecting on these events during a time of inaction...Jenny senses and emptiness, a lack of person connections in her life..."
This collection of responses brings up an issue raised in these novels that we had not considered in class discussions, and which I had not considered at all before reading them. Both Doc Hata and Jenny seem to be victims of their circumstances. Hata is a closed off person, unable to make any deep interpersonal connections, like Veronica notes. This comes from his childhood, when his parents sent him away to live a "better life" with foster parents in Japan, and continued throughout his entire life; he always valued his appearance to others more than his relationship with them. Similarly, Jenny is all about her actions as a revolutionary. She values the bombings she did with William and the "revolutionary" actions she is taking by helping Juan, Yvonne and Pauline, but in reflecting on her relationship with William, she realizes that she doesn't really love him for him, rather for what they did together.
Both of these characters value possessions and actions and values themselves, more than the relationships they develop in their lives. This makes them kind of empty characters. Rebecca simplifies this point well in my excerpt from her response. Doc Hata likes to emphasize his Japaneseness, but his high value of material possessions is a very American one, one that Jenny and her cohorts were very against. Sarah points out the struggle that Jenny has with her essential values when they conflict with her enjoyment of material and aesthetic pleasures.
In the end, I think neither character can really help that they are so confused and alone throughout the novels. Doc Hata knows no other way of behaving, and Jenny is trying so hard to be a revolutionary and live up to impossible ideals, that they both miss out on important aspects of life: strong relationships with other people.
"Doc Hata's fascination with real-estate in A Gesture Life seemed to me to echo and expand on (and further problematize) the fetishization of certain distinctly American commodities....it becomes evident that the house Hata struggles to maintain never becomes a home - instead it's sterile, like a 'museum.' Additionally, the breakfast that he sets out for Sunny becomes one more empty, or purely aesthetic, gesture - a minimal, unobtrusive, and ultimately failed, attempt at communication with his errant daughter....I thought Jenny's tentative embrace of bourgeois/aesthetic pleasure also articulates a central thematic in Choi's novel - Choi and Jenny wonder how to appreciate beauty without celebrating conservative myths at the same time; how to save some modicum of pleasure without guilt."
Anushka Zafar
"By pointing out his Japanese heritage in defense of his behavior, Hata is giving into the stereotypical notion that Asian Americans are seen as 'model citizens.' In a way, it seems that he is giving into social complicity. Hata fails at resisting social complicity and it is clear...that he is in complete denial; he complies to the expectations of society be being 'number-one citizen,' and thinks it is aiding his attempt to assimilate into American society..."
Chang Liu
"In discussion about social complicity, it reveals that no matter how far they drive or how deep they hide, they cannot escape their compromised morality, their Americanness....[Hata's] appearance and reputation prevail over almost any other priority....It is this life of gestures that 'Doc' Franklin Hata lives that serves to eradicate his past and true emotions..."
Rebecca Meekins
"These novels exemplify the different effects one's history and race have on their actions within society. Doc's history binds him from coming within a certain emotional distance with his society, and Jenny's history suggests she is much more compliant than she actually is."
Veronica Bruscini
"These novels blur the question of agency even further in specific episodes for Hata and Jenny. Hata, in his recollections of youth and old age, goes through great lengths to demonstrate his 'gesture life,' on one based on observation and inaction; his narrative is so skillfully wrought that when he does act - physically taking advantage of K - it almost blends into the rest of his story. These encounters with K solidify Hata's inability to form deep, interpersonal connections, even within the circle of his closest friends and associates, and he remains a solitary figure through the rest of his life. Jenny's meticulously planned and crafted bombings are designed to spare lives and still make a statement, destroying buildings that house the government agencies she opposes. Yet reflecting on these events during a time of inaction...Jenny senses and emptiness, a lack of person connections in her life..."
This collection of responses brings up an issue raised in these novels that we had not considered in class discussions, and which I had not considered at all before reading them. Both Doc Hata and Jenny seem to be victims of their circumstances. Hata is a closed off person, unable to make any deep interpersonal connections, like Veronica notes. This comes from his childhood, when his parents sent him away to live a "better life" with foster parents in Japan, and continued throughout his entire life; he always valued his appearance to others more than his relationship with them. Similarly, Jenny is all about her actions as a revolutionary. She values the bombings she did with William and the "revolutionary" actions she is taking by helping Juan, Yvonne and Pauline, but in reflecting on her relationship with William, she realizes that she doesn't really love him for him, rather for what they did together.
Both of these characters value possessions and actions and values themselves, more than the relationships they develop in their lives. This makes them kind of empty characters. Rebecca simplifies this point well in my excerpt from her response. Doc Hata likes to emphasize his Japaneseness, but his high value of material possessions is a very American one, one that Jenny and her cohorts were very against. Sarah points out the struggle that Jenny has with her essential values when they conflict with her enjoyment of material and aesthetic pleasures.
In the end, I think neither character can really help that they are so confused and alone throughout the novels. Doc Hata knows no other way of behaving, and Jenny is trying so hard to be a revolutionary and live up to impossible ideals, that they both miss out on important aspects of life: strong relationships with other people.
R4 Excerpts and Response (Anna Moran)
Micah Martin:
“In setting Jenny apart as uniquely suited to leadership in a revolutionary environment for the color of her skin, and by alluding to a supposed ‘Third World Perspective’ afforded by her Japanese heritage, Juan betrays leanings just as racist and as ignorant as the townspeople who refer to Mr. Hata as a ‘good Charlie.’ … Both authors show clearly the idea of social complicity, though from opposite angles. Where Lee presents Mr. Hata as a man working hard for legitimization in the eyes of his neighbors and fellow citizens and thus (possibly) complicit in his own marginalization, Choi gives us Juan and his blind insistence that brown skin confers legitimacy automatically and makes its possessor part of a kind of suffering elite. While Mr. Hata is himself complicit, Jenny is a victim of (unwilling) complicity via Juan’s racist attitudes. Both are, in some fashion, reduced to an exemplar of their race by this complicity.”
“In setting Jenny apart as uniquely suited to leadership in a revolutionary environment for the color of her skin, and by alluding to a supposed ‘Third World Perspective’ afforded by her Japanese heritage, Juan betrays leanings just as racist and as ignorant as the townspeople who refer to Mr. Hata as a ‘good Charlie.’ … Both authors show clearly the idea of social complicity, though from opposite angles. Where Lee presents Mr. Hata as a man working hard for legitimization in the eyes of his neighbors and fellow citizens and thus (possibly) complicit in his own marginalization, Choi gives us Juan and his blind insistence that brown skin confers legitimacy automatically and makes its possessor part of a kind of suffering elite. While Mr. Hata is himself complicit, Jenny is a victim of (unwilling) complicity via Juan’s racist attitudes. Both are, in some fashion, reduced to an exemplar of their race by this complicity.”
Rachael Furman:
“Self-imposed assimilation and self-denial of one’s race, background, and past holds one boon over socially imposed racial othering. Social compliance implies one’s choice to comply, with the key concept pushing towards this decisions being ‘choice.’ One’s personal decision to comply fosters an internal sense of power and control, even if this sense of balance is constructed in such a way as to marginalize and force self-denial upon Asian Americans regardless of terminology. Susan Choi’s American Woman and Chang-rae Lee’s A Gesture Life both evaluate the differing effects that the ‘choice’ of social compliance has upon the character and narratives of each novel’s respective main characters. As we examine the ways in which Jenny and Doc Hata both blend into society, we understand that this self-imposed denial of nation and self acts as a psychological mechanism of preservation, a means by which to hide from the greater and more damaging forces of forced assimilation or worse, ethnic marginalization.”
Alexa Ebert:
“It seems like both Sunny and Pauline had very complicated relationships with their parents, and their actions and mannerisms definitely took a substantial toll on them. Pauline gave in so much to the PLA that she was lost and her hand is described as to have rolled off. It is ironic that when she did not resist to the PLA, she says that she was released of old shame and nothing would be her fault. Although Pauline did not necessarily choose to be a part of the PLA, her compliance made her become a part of this, and through it she began to further resist other things. In a way, she resisted against her parents because they did not withhold the PLA’s beliefs whatsoever.”
Andrew Anderson:
“Jenny and Hata each find comfort in the extremes. For Jenny, it is in the form of political resistance and radical activism, while for Hata it is expressed through his social complicity as he strives for complete assimilation and acceptance into American society. Both approaches are shortsighted and destined to fail from the very beginning. Hata’s attempts to make himself as unthreatening and amenable as possible may have afforded him to a certain amount of comfort, but it never earned him the kind of respect among the community that he so desperately yearned for. In contrast, Jenny’s political radicalism gave her a level of power that she couldn’t have attained otherwise, but the very means of her resistance prevented her from ever being seen as anything but a radical outlier.”
Marlene McManus:
“Though one’s life is defined by social complicity and the other’s by political resistance, the protagonists of the novels A Gesture Life and American Woman share a conclusive realization of the futility of their actions at the novels’ endings. Though Franklin Hata works tirelessly to adopt and maintain all the physical and social signifiers of the average American citizen, and Jenny Shimada endeavors to raise political and social awareness to improve the nation through radial activism, neither can escape the consequences and realities imposed upon them by history and their own selves… He [Doc Hata] realizes at the conclusion of the novel that such a life cannot be achieved through quiet complicity, for complicity engenders inaction, the consequence of which is a weighty cloud of guilt that cannot be escaped… Jenny Shimada’s actions are the antithesis of complicity, bombing buildings in her youth to protest government actions. As opposed to Hata who wishes to recede into anonymity, Jenny’s ultimate desire is that her voice be heard.”
Response:
For two stories that are based on completely different settings and deal with completely different political issues, the response papers for this week do a great job in discussing many comparable themes of both novels. Although it seems as though the issues of social complicity and political resistance are obvious motives for some of the main characters (Jenny the anti-government radical seems to be the symbol of political resistance while Doc Hata, the model minority “good Charlie” is socially compliant), these excerpts show more in-depth analyses of these topics and bring new perspectives that were not even mentioned in our class discussions. For instance, Rachael points out an interesting point that even though both Jenny and Doc Hata are socially compliant and falsely empowered by their “choices” to act the way they do, it is inevitably internally destructive for these characters and those they affect. Marlene and Andrew both write about the failures and futility of both Doc Hata and Jenny’s actions. Marlene says that both characters’ complicity fail to eradicate the history and guilt that encumbers them due to their political standings, actions, or even the widespread scrutinization they face as an Asian American. Andrew, on the other hand, talks about the failures of these two characters to find short-term comfort in their attempts to prove themselves through social compliance (Doc Hata) and political resistance (Jenny). They all agree that the tragedies of these two main characters are the repeated failures that define their developments as characters throughout the books.
Excerpts from the response papers also introduce marginal characters who help emphasize the impacts of political resistance and social compliance. Micah mentions Juan, whose ignorance and false claims further delegitimize the missions of the PLA; however, his dominance (and perhaps masculinity?) forces Jenny to be socially compliant to Juan’s racism and other factors that she initially fought to resist. Alexa also mentions Pauline in a similar light, as she says while Pauline was a product of social compliance due to her wealth and socioeconomic standing, her submissiveness to the PLA compelled her to be politically resistant against all the perspectives that she was raised with. Alexa also points out that Sunny’s resistance to Doc Hata lets him become aware of the hypocrisies of his actions. While these novels depict two completely different but altogether beautiful stories, the themes that were highlighted in this week’s responses continue to exist in our society that still often deals with minority-based politics and controversies.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
R4 Excerpts/Response- Rebecca Meekins
Anushka Zafar
In terms of touching upon the idea of Asian American masculinity, in David Richards’ article, he writes that “there is only one true god [of action films] and his name is Jackie Chan.” In relation to what we learnt from The Slanted Screen, Asian actors interviewed expressed that their domination in American action films is undermining because they are only chosen to play the villain or “the other”. Shu even refers to Frank Chin, who stated, “Good or bad, the stereotypical Asian is nothing as a man. At worst, the Asian-American is contemptible because he is womanly, effeminate, devoid of all the traditionally masculine qualities of originality, daring, physical courage, and creativity.”
Samantha McFadden
Similar to Lee, Chan’s body and what he does with it throughout the film represent Asian masculinity that is not usually depicted. Rather than displaying his body itself, the focus is put on the things that he is able to do with it – Chan leaps from tall buildings, uses common household objects as weapons, gets hit by cars, and still is able to get up and catch the bad guys. Yuan Shu argues that this allows audiences to view him as more manly. In doing all of his own stunts, he is showing that the Asian male is capable of great bodily feats. However, as with Lee, he must prove that he is masculine by being extremely adept at martial arts. Without this, he would appear to be the same bumbling, asexual character as any other Asian male in film.
Anna Malefatto
Furthermore, Chan “…humanizes the hero of the Kung Fu tragedy, whose rigidity might…be construed as stubborn, inhuman…confirming another aspect of Orientalist representation of Asians and Asian Americans” (5). This point fascinates me; I had never really thought of Jackie Chan as particularly masculine. However, he clearly is, as he does all his own stunt work and risks his life to make his films.
It seems that Bruce Lee certainly did what he intended, proving the masculinity and power of Chinese men and promoting national pride for his country. I think that Jackie Chan has taken this one step further and humanized the martial arts master in film, and I agree with Shu that Chan has done a good job of “…reconstructing masculinity” (6).
Alexa Ebert
As a whole, Chan tries to avoid confrontation and trouble, where as Lee likes to address and confront immediately. Chan merely gives in at time for example when he gives into the gangsters, and he also has the best fighting ability when he runs away from trouble. I interpret this as being less masculine and more cautious and cowardly. “Lee glorifies violence” where as Chan avoids it, shows two very different depictions of Asian American masculinity. Violence can be seen as a positive because you are fighting back, but avoiding it can be more peaceful. I think if there could be a happy medium of both, the Asian American masculine image would appeal to more people.
Jean Dao
Also of note is the fact that, although Kung Fu heroes have so-called universal appeal, this appeal really only applies to the men in minority groups. As shown in both Rumble in the Bronx and Enter the Dragon (and Rush Hour, as mentioned in Shu’s article), women – particularly Asian women – continue to be objectified: in Rumble in the Bronx, the women in the gang are viewed as playthings, and in Enter the Dragon, every woman on the island (excepting Han’s wife and daughters) serves only to provide pleasure for the men. In Shu’s words, there still exists a certain objectification of “young Asian women as passive, obedient, and eager to pamper any man, white or black, yellow or brown” (Shu, 8).
Both Rumble in the Bronx and Enter the Dragon are about changing the stereotype of Asian masculinity, or lack thereof. The differences in the two styles are clear, as pointed out by Alexa and Samantha. Where Jackie Chan takes more of a humanistic approach, “Lee glorifies violence”. Which method is more effective is debated. It seemed that the consensus with the class was that Jackie Chan’s character was much more relatable and more realistic. Also, the fact that Chan does all of his own stunts, and risks his life so often for the sake of his films says something about his character, as Anna and Sam point out. However, I think Jean has a good point about the effect and appeal of the Kung Fu films in society and that men and women will approach these films differently. Especially in regards to the objectification of many women in Kung Fu films as a means for men to feel more masculine. Kung Fu films speak much more to Asian men who struggle with issues of masculinity rather than women who do not have the same problem. However, in Jean’s response, she speaks of the role of women in the role, yet in Rush Hour and the excerpt from Hero that we watched, the women were shown as extremely powerful, and also had mastered the art of Kung Fu. It would be interesting to unpack those characters more as well.
In response to Anushka, I think it is very interesting the reference made to The Slanted Screen. Many men expressed anger due to the constant typecasting as villains. Not only this, but the assumption that all Asians can do Kung Fu is a result of the popularity of films like Enter the Dragon, which is ironic in itself because these films were made to counter another sort of stereotype/typecast; a lack of masculinity. Kung Fu films will remain popular due to the showcase of the magnificent art of martial arts, which Asian culture has seemed to master in order to overcome other “weaknesses”.
In terms of touching upon the idea of Asian American masculinity, in David Richards’ article, he writes that “there is only one true god [of action films] and his name is Jackie Chan.” In relation to what we learnt from The Slanted Screen, Asian actors interviewed expressed that their domination in American action films is undermining because they are only chosen to play the villain or “the other”. Shu even refers to Frank Chin, who stated, “Good or bad, the stereotypical Asian is nothing as a man. At worst, the Asian-American is contemptible because he is womanly, effeminate, devoid of all the traditionally masculine qualities of originality, daring, physical courage, and creativity.”
Samantha McFadden
Similar to Lee, Chan’s body and what he does with it throughout the film represent Asian masculinity that is not usually depicted. Rather than displaying his body itself, the focus is put on the things that he is able to do with it – Chan leaps from tall buildings, uses common household objects as weapons, gets hit by cars, and still is able to get up and catch the bad guys. Yuan Shu argues that this allows audiences to view him as more manly. In doing all of his own stunts, he is showing that the Asian male is capable of great bodily feats. However, as with Lee, he must prove that he is masculine by being extremely adept at martial arts. Without this, he would appear to be the same bumbling, asexual character as any other Asian male in film.
Anna Malefatto
Furthermore, Chan “…humanizes the hero of the Kung Fu tragedy, whose rigidity might…be construed as stubborn, inhuman…confirming another aspect of Orientalist representation of Asians and Asian Americans” (5). This point fascinates me; I had never really thought of Jackie Chan as particularly masculine. However, he clearly is, as he does all his own stunt work and risks his life to make his films.
It seems that Bruce Lee certainly did what he intended, proving the masculinity and power of Chinese men and promoting national pride for his country. I think that Jackie Chan has taken this one step further and humanized the martial arts master in film, and I agree with Shu that Chan has done a good job of “…reconstructing masculinity” (6).
Alexa Ebert
As a whole, Chan tries to avoid confrontation and trouble, where as Lee likes to address and confront immediately. Chan merely gives in at time for example when he gives into the gangsters, and he also has the best fighting ability when he runs away from trouble. I interpret this as being less masculine and more cautious and cowardly. “Lee glorifies violence” where as Chan avoids it, shows two very different depictions of Asian American masculinity. Violence can be seen as a positive because you are fighting back, but avoiding it can be more peaceful. I think if there could be a happy medium of both, the Asian American masculine image would appeal to more people.
Jean Dao
Also of note is the fact that, although Kung Fu heroes have so-called universal appeal, this appeal really only applies to the men in minority groups. As shown in both Rumble in the Bronx and Enter the Dragon (and Rush Hour, as mentioned in Shu’s article), women – particularly Asian women – continue to be objectified: in Rumble in the Bronx, the women in the gang are viewed as playthings, and in Enter the Dragon, every woman on the island (excepting Han’s wife and daughters) serves only to provide pleasure for the men. In Shu’s words, there still exists a certain objectification of “young Asian women as passive, obedient, and eager to pamper any man, white or black, yellow or brown” (Shu, 8).
Both Rumble in the Bronx and Enter the Dragon are about changing the stereotype of Asian masculinity, or lack thereof. The differences in the two styles are clear, as pointed out by Alexa and Samantha. Where Jackie Chan takes more of a humanistic approach, “Lee glorifies violence”. Which method is more effective is debated. It seemed that the consensus with the class was that Jackie Chan’s character was much more relatable and more realistic. Also, the fact that Chan does all of his own stunts, and risks his life so often for the sake of his films says something about his character, as Anna and Sam point out. However, I think Jean has a good point about the effect and appeal of the Kung Fu films in society and that men and women will approach these films differently. Especially in regards to the objectification of many women in Kung Fu films as a means for men to feel more masculine. Kung Fu films speak much more to Asian men who struggle with issues of masculinity rather than women who do not have the same problem. However, in Jean’s response, she speaks of the role of women in the role, yet in Rush Hour and the excerpt from Hero that we watched, the women were shown as extremely powerful, and also had mastered the art of Kung Fu. It would be interesting to unpack those characters more as well.
In response to Anushka, I think it is very interesting the reference made to The Slanted Screen. Many men expressed anger due to the constant typecasting as villains. Not only this, but the assumption that all Asians can do Kung Fu is a result of the popularity of films like Enter the Dragon, which is ironic in itself because these films were made to counter another sort of stereotype/typecast; a lack of masculinity. Kung Fu films will remain popular due to the showcase of the magnificent art of martial arts, which Asian culture has seemed to master in order to overcome other “weaknesses”.
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