A free life.

So I've just finished reading A Free Life, also by Ha Jin, and all I can say is: story of my life.

Honestly, I'm tired of all the novels out there depicting the lives of Chinese immigrants as that stereotypical, grew up in Chinatown, blah blah blah. You know what I'm talking about. And yes, I'm talking to you, Amy Tan. Where's my family's story? I never lived in Chinatown, and my family doesn't own a laundromat. As a 2nd generation Chinese-American, I don't lash out angrily at my parents for putting me to shame with their broken English and judge their intellect based on their ability to put words together in an adopted language. On the contrary, my parents are intellectual people who speak English very fluently. I have nothing but the deepest respect for them.

What really touched me about A Free Life were the situations, the nuances in the Wu's experiences that really likened them to my own family. They started their life in America as a result of the Tiananmen Massacre, and the novel speaks of the protests that resulted in D.C., as well as the influence that the Chinese exiles had on the Chinese mentality in the U.S.. My parents were involved with these protests and dissdents, and it was a surprise to see these events recorded as an important part of someone's life when they are so often overlooked by historical records.

Not only that, but everything, right down to the dynamics within the family screams likeness at me. The tumultuous relationship between the Nan, the father, and Taotao, his son, just about killed me. There were at once so many unspoken words and words that should have never been spoken between them.

".... father and son didn't talk much. If Nan spoke to him harshly, Taotao would ignore him or mutter "Shut up," at which Nan would lose his temper, calling his son a heartless ingrate."

In general, the relationship between son and father has always been more rocky than others, partially because the two can never seem to break the speaking barrier that they erect against each other. However, this seems to be more prevalent in first generation Chinese-American families, where fathers are sometimes so focused on providing for their families that they can forget about forging a bond with their children. By the time they realize this, it is too hard to reverse the damage done on their oldest child, and they can only try their best not to make the same mistake with their next child.

Another thing I found fascinating was the relationship between the Wu family and their American friends, Janet and Dave Mitchell. Among themselves, the Mitchells discussed how they found it odd that Nan and Pingping seemed content with their loveless marriage. If they did not love each other passionately, why were they still together? Therein lies the difference between Asian culture and American culture. Asian culture promotes the importance of family and unity above all else, as opposed to the American value of individualism and their pleasure-oriented ideas about sex and marriage. For Chinese parents, staying together to provide for their child is more important than one's personal desires. Even if one is trapped within a loveless marriage, it is the Chinese mentality that staying together will benefit one's child more and therefore, it is the honorable thing to do. Americans nowadays are too flippant with their attitudes towards divorce, too casual in dismissing the implications it may have on their children. Marriage is not something to be thrown away when you're tired of it. Family before self.

Not only that, the Mitchells were amazed that the Wus shared everything... even their bank accounts. Even within a loveless marriage, for there to be such trust was an indication of Nan and Pingping's intention to stay together. Contrary to this, the Mitchells kept separate bank accounts, which in the context of American society, somehow translates to a type of mistrust between a couple. It's kind of like a "Oh, I love you, but I want to keep my own money just in case you decide to leave me. You know, just in case." Nowadays, this practice among Chinese-Americans is vanishing, but it is one that my parents keep very much alive. I'll think of it as a promise that they'll stay together no matter what.

Quite honestly, this novel touches me on a level I've never experienced with any other novel. At times I found myself switching the characters with people in my own family, and some of the situations were just too real for me. When Pingping found herself pregnant with a baby girl (Taotao's almost 13 years old at this point... um, sound familiar?), I was so happy because I was like, hey! That's like me! The father was so excited too, ready for another chance to prove that he could raise a child with love. And when the fetus died, I was so crushed. I thought, "That could have been me who died. That could have been my mom who had to get an abortion for a dead fetus." It was just too real, too real. Seeing how my own birth could have resulted makes me feel that to be alive today is truly a miracle, that it is a blessing that my mother was even able to give birth to me at her age.

Ha Jin paints a portrait of Chinese-American life here that I find coincides too closely with the truth. I wasn't around for many of the challenges of a 1st generation immigrant, but I can see from the aftermath that the road could not have been easy. For sure, it was riddled with cultural frustration, emotional scarring, and loneliness... but as they say (or I say?), the effort of an immigrant repays itself infinitely throughout the generations. You work for your children, and your grandchildren, etc etc. It is the most honorable sacrifice.