Lancellotti: Post 4

So, all in all, I was very impressed with this book--no disappointments whatsoever! Then again, could I expect anything less from Amy Tan?
The last section of the book had many interesting points, a few of which I will address here. While reading about An-Mei Hsu's childhood and how her mother left her uncle's house and became a concubine of a rich man, I came across a passage about the new clothes her mother was supposed to wear. She wore a white dress, which in many European and eastern countries is associated with death as we associate black, and so it is the color of mourning. Confused, An-Mei Hsu says, "This was a shocking sight. We were in mourning. But I could not say anything. I was a child. How could I scold my own mother? I could only feel shame seeing my mother wear her shame so boldly" (248). I thought this was very interesting that An-Mei's mother choose to wear white as a start to her new life. I contemplated different reasons for her decision: Perhaps she was upset that she had to leave her son behind at their uncle's house; maybe she was simply sad about leaving her old life behind (the life she had without the condescending tones of their aunt and uncle); or possibly she was mourning over the truth of what she was really going to, being the fourth concubine of a rich merchant, and didn't tell her daughter to spare her youth and innocence. Later I found that this last assumption was probably right because Wu Tsing had sex with An-Mei's mother and she had to comply. This was the most disgusting part of the book; I was so angered by the terrible treatment the Hsu girls had to endure. I was heartbroken when An-Mei began crying as she was wrenched out of the room and separated from her mother, both physically and emotionally. From that moment on, she and her mother became spiritually stained by the unspeakable acts of that man.
Another quote that I liked was from the same story segment, but towards the end, when An-Mei recalls the days after her mother poisoned herself with opium, saying, "And on that day, I showed Second Wife the fake pearl necklace she had given me and crushed it under my foot. And on that day, Second Wife's hard began to turn white. And on that day, I learned to shout" (272). I felt that the pearl necklace was very symbolic of the way some people treat others. They will sing nothing but praises about them, feeding them the foods of pride and appreciation. But in reality, they are not a solid marble statue of loyalty, but a gilded sculpture of clay, wavering and unsteady, that will be crushed at the slightest hint of pressure or trouble, like the pearls. Unfortunately, that's how many "friendships" are in America, and I even see this type of relationship daily in the hallways at school. I've even had someone talk badly about a "friend" to me privately and then the next minute I see they're being all buddy-buddy with them. I don't get how difficult it is to be genuine! Maybe it's just a survival instinct. After all, high school is a dangerous jungle.