My paper is arguing that the novel All Over Creation acts as a post racial text in Asian American literature, but in a problematic way.  Yumi’s ethnicity is pushed aside as a factor in the formation of her identity and is instead formed by Western cultural ideals.  Yumi builds her identity off of being an object of sexual desire, which is not related to her Asian heritage, but her American-born heritage.

I am looking closely at five scenes, four of them are dealing with the men in Yumi’s life, and the final scene is between Cass and Yumi in which she has an epiphany about her father and her need for his love, and the loss of his love because of her promiscuity and budding sexuality.  The four other scenes involve Geek, Phoenix, Elliot, and of course Lloyd.

The scene with Geek shows his opposing view of the promiscuity through the beauty of promiscuity in plants, and thus his yearning for Yumi, and her attraction to him that I argue is only due to his attraction to her.  Which further strengthens the idea that women who define themselves sexually suffer problematic choices, choices not their own, but influenced by the loss of paternal loss and replacement of gaining love through sexuality.

Another scene that I’m looking at is the scene between Phoenix and Yumi at the end when he stays with Yumi instead of going with The Seeds and ultimately “saves her.”  Yumi is always saved by a man, rather than herself, searching for the love that she lost in Lloyd’s rejection of her, but she uses the very thing that pushed Lloyd away to gain love, sex…even with Phoenix because it is all about her sexual exploits and her promiscuity that even brought him into the world.

I am looking at the scene in which a young Yumi gets trapped in a cave and Lloyd has to come and rescue her.  This scene is filled with sexual implications since the cave is actually a “lava tube,” as Lloyd tells Yumi.  Yumi is paralyzed with the discovery of the cave, and of her own sexuality, and it isn’t until Lloyd comes to the rescue that she can go deep into the vaginal recesses of the “womblike quiet of the cave.” (248).

And, the scene with Elliot that I am looking at, I am using as an epigraph at the beginning of the paper, because I think that it is such an illuminating passage about the depiction of female identity through sexuality, and because of this, through a patriarchal American hegemony, and the need to find one’s identity regardless of sex, and what makes Yumi so compelling to me:

She was watching him closely, and he felt as though she were looking for something that she wanted, that she had misplaced perhaps, that had been hers to begin with and now she needed back.  But then she seemed to give up (223).

So, my concern is coming in the form of including research.  I’m going to include Bow’s speculation on how “female sexuality” can act as a “resolution to a crisis of national citizenship” and the problem of female subjugation.  I am including some of Lisa Lowe’s article and her idea that identity is a part of a “social construct” to support my ideas.  And, I am using Susan Koshy to explicate the place/work/impetus of the “postracial” text.

My concern with the Koshy article, which I am currently using at the top of my paper to support my ideas, is this argument that I’m inferring from this quote:

“I would define the new conjuncture as a shift from strategic essentialism to strategic interracialism.  The former focused on defining and clarifying the meaning of group identities to advance political and cultural interests” (1547).

From this I am arguing that the novel offers an ideology that is advancing the sexual identity of women through the cultural interest of men, and this is part of a problematic part of Koshy’s “composite identities” which are a part of a post racial world (1547).  Does this work/make sense?  Should I not go out on the political limb?

Other research that I’m including so far: Lauren Berlant, Judith Butler, Kate Millet, Simone deBeauvoir (also thinking about using an epigraph of her famous line “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman”)  Freud, Lacan, Feona Atwood, Teruyo Ueki, Fu-Jen Chen, Naomi Wolf, Elizabeth Wurtzel, Stuart Hall, Cheryl Fish, Emily Cheng…

If anyone has any inspiring thoughts that go along this road of mine, please do let me know!

I also think that the use of lighting in the scene with Casper and his girlfriend Martha Marlen on the train is really interesting. She is asking him about their relationship and why he hides her as her face is half covered with a checkered design that resembles a chain link fence.  It’s such an interesting image.  And it made me question their relationship and also think about the duality in the character of Casper.  He is living a dual life in which he is hiding his real love from the gang.  I just love the visual suggestion that the configuration on her face evokes for me.  It feels like she is the missing piece of the puzzle or, more astutely, the catalyst.  And I suppose that she is, although she is certainly affected. (What a startling death scene!)

Other visual elements that are interesting include the use of water.  There’s one scene where Sayra is on a boat, but you do not see the boat, just her effortlessly soaring above the water.  It is a beautiful shot, with the light beaming behind her, and indicates a sense of her ultimate freedom.

There is also the dynamic visuals of the gang, their hood, and the tattooing.  The close up shot of Smiley’s first tattoo is disconcerting.  The symbolism of Casper’s tear drop.  (On a side note, I’m still trying to figure out why El Sol also has a tear drop.) And, the intense tattoos of Lil’ Mago that take over his face, and any indication of expression on his face, since he is literally masked.

I also think that it is interesting that the immigrants are riding on top of the train.  Although I’m inferring that this is more biographical than fictional, I still think that the way this is shot is illuminating,  again offering a sense of freedom.  When Sayra’s father dies, it is through the cracks between the rail cars, and he falls down to the earth to his death.

Onto another topic, I find the name of the film very curious, that these are nameless people being shuffled along this terrifying journey seeking a better life, and in some instances, an escape.  And, the nameless members of the gang, given a new name and thus, a new identity.  The name Casper is quite brilliant since he is the missing one.  Whether it’s when he is not where he is supposed to be and is really seeing Martha or after he kills Lil’ Mago and disappears.  And, really I could go on and on with the inferences to his name, or his nameless name…

I also came across the Sin Nombre Virus, which apparently is a nameless virus that is spread by mice and can be fatal.  I thought this was interesting on multiple levels.   It could refer to the gang, La Mara, and how they invade and take over the lives of the “homies,”  and innocent people, and it could also be indicative of the growing resentment in our country towards Mexican immigrants and the ever growing political battle to “secure our borders.”

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t at least mention my thoughts on female identity in this film.  Sayra’s life is determined by men throughout the film.  She clings to Casper and feels safe with him because he saved her from the clutches of Lil’ Mago. And as much as I liked the character of Casper and have great sympathy for him, I have to think about her dependence on him, and on her father and her uncle. Even though Sayra is the only one who survives the journey across the border, what do we think about her being brought to the U.S. by the “devil” (as she refers to him) who she basically surrenders all control to?  Isn’t this problematic?

I absolutely love this film.   I think that it is visually resplendent.  While watching, I kept thinking that Sayra and Willy might actually get away, and I am usually rather skilled in navigating plots and figuring out conclusions, but the raw emotion of the film made me hope for a renewal.  But, the film would not have the gravity that it possesses without Willy’s death.  His death, at the hand of Smiley and that final blow to the head,  is devastating on so many levels.  I could go on and on, but I’ll conclude with my stance that Sin Nombre is a fantastic and powerful film.

What I liked the most about this novel was the lyrical prose, it’s quite beautiful at times, even when dealing with some ridiculously heavy subject matter.  I also liked  the tale of Peter and Fee,  their friendship, the choir, and the intricate manner that Alexander Chee deployed to illustrate a group of boys who are being abused, know that they are, and out of fear, work to hide it, and how it tears them apart.  Yet, one of the things that I find problematic with the novel, is that Fee blames himself, even into adulthood, for Big Eric’s abuse, and though I am aware that children often blame themselves in these types of situations, I found the correlation between a child’s budding homosexuality and desire for his friend compared to Big Eric’s pedophilia alarming.

It was an interesting plot device to include Speck’s retrieval of the document about the black plague because there certainly is a lot of carnage in this book. So many of the boys die.  And, Fee and Warden who escape actual death, are still plagued, trapped forever by Big Eric.  This idea is expressed when Fee thinks about Warden killing his father, “It’s not us, I want to say.  I want to wake him and tell him, that we need to escape this, that what he’s done has trapped us not freed us…” (208). And then Fee goes on to blame himself again, which honestly by this point in the book, I find rather exhausting, “You did this, I tell myself.  Not him” (208).

I really was in love with this book for more than half of it, but I have to say when Fee and Warden hook up, I kind of squirmed in my seat and thought to myself, what is this a soap opera?  Let me just say that I am not easily offended or shocked, but I was kind of shocked by this encounter.  And I was a little pissed off.  I’m sorry, but if you are a swim teacher at a school, don’t you see the full names of the students?  And, this whole attraction to Warden because he looks like Peter was too much for me as well.  But, my biggest problem is the implication that Fee is also a child abuser.  And, of course I know all about abuse repeating itself, but it wasn’t even looked at in this way, it was more about these two characters being drawn to each other by some mysterious force and thus, they are victims of the plague of Big Eric.  I find it problematic too, that Warden says he’s not gay, but he’s in love with Fee.  And, that is never fully addressed either, the notion that one isn’t gay but just drawn to one man by the fates.  I don’t know, I have some problems with these narrative choices.  And, it all wraps up way too easily with Bridey coming to Fee’s rescue and the way Fee leaves Warden.  I’m not buying it.

So, I definitely developed a love/hate relationship with this novel, and I’m not sure that I really articulated everything as well as I’d have liked to here, and my post is thematically all over the place,  but I wanted to get out as many ideas about the best and worst that keep springing to my mind.  And,  I’m really curious if this novel frustrated anyone else.  Any takers?

I plan to examine scenes with the four men in Yumi’s life that influence her the most: Lloyd, Phoenix, Geek, and of course, Elliot.  It is interesting to note that Yumi only has a sexual relationship with one of the four, yet her sexuality is the major conflict for her relationship with all of them.   It seems one of the key struggles in the novel is control,  which I find very depressing because the only way that Yumi can escape the male dominated hegemony is through promiscuity.  And still, she is left with this yearning for her father’s love and approval that leaves an empty space in her that she is constantly trying to fill with sex.  It seems to be an American problem that many women face, and it is so frustrating.

So, what scenes to examine?  I still find the scene between Cass and Yumi imperative, when Yumi says about Lloyd, “”I didn’t hate him, Cass, I loved him!”  And there it was: the unbearable truth, popping out of my own damn mouth.  Slowly, I put it all together.  ”I ran away because I loved him.  I ran away because he used to love me, and then somewhere along the line, when he couldn’t control me anymore, he just stopped, you know?”" (242).

This scene is the penultimate example of a father abandoning his daughter because of her growing adolescent sexuality.  Lloyd cannot handle that Yumi is becoming a woman and that he can no longer control her.  And, Yumi cannot find a way to connect with Lloyd due to her budding sexuality.  It is also important to note the use of the word “unbearable” because it is indicative of the cultural crisis.  Yumi is left to find love through sex because the paternal love is eliminated, to garner control over men in this way, and to realize that she shut Lloyd out of her life because he denied this part of her, but she still realizes her love for her father is very powerful and  perhaps indicative of her desire for him (or man) to control her.

I also want to examine the scene between Geek and Yumi when he talks about the promiscuity of the seed (268) and the lava tube scene when Yumi is saved by Lloyd (249).

Also, I really like the scene when The Seeds are convincing Lloyd to have the rally, which leads up to the promiscuity of seeds scene with Yumi and Geek, because it is about the right to life and an establishment of male dominance between Lloyd and Geek and Yumi’s reaction is to laugh at them.  It seems this may be one of the only instances when Yumi attempts to have control in a non-sexual way, but she is still thwarted by the male dominance when Lloyd gives his final word.

I like the scene at the end when Phoenix decides to stay because his mother needs him.  It ends with the continual ideology that the female cannot exist without a man (even though it’s her son, I think it is still prevalent.) Especially when Yumi says to herself, “May the son prove stronger than the mother” (412).

And finally, the scene that I like concerning Elliot is when she says she seduced Elliot at the ripe old age of fourteen and that she knew that she was “complicit” (209).  This is a shining example of the problematic ideology placed on woman for being sexual.  Women can find power in sexuality, but if they use their sexuality in this manner, they are judged.  Sexuality does not free women in the cultural crisis, it binds them.

Oh boy, I’ve got a lot going on here and a lot of choices to make because I find so many scenes controversial and worth examining in relation to my argument.  It is so much fun to examine all of this and hope to come to some resolution of the female identity being determined by the man and how to come to a new resolution of the crisis of cultural citizenship.  Any words of advice?

To sharpen my focus, I think I’ll just look at the use of language as a barrier in this novel and the ideas presented to Binh about America and the two lovely ladies that he comes to work for.  If one is to address language in the novel, it seems only appropriate to begin with Bao.  What a character.  I love his idea of changing one’s name constantly to “I Love You”, Hey, I Am Crazy” , and of course “GoodLookingBrother” as names (107).  And when Bao tells Binh, “Slip your own meanings into their words” (155).  What an amazing example of taking control of language.   The nicknames are super funny, but on a deeper level, Bao is gaining authority by taking control of something that is usually used against those who do not speak the language of the authority figures.  And then the poetic voice of Binh says, “Language is a house with a host of doors, and I am too often uninvited and without the keys” (155).  But, still Binh finds ways around language.    I found it brilliant how Monique Truong expressed Binh’s way around language barriers with “Sweet Sunday Man”. Binh says, ”My French is clipped and jagged, an awkward careless collection, a blind man’s home, a drunk man’s stumbled steps.  We will throw all our words onto the table and find those saturated with meaning.  Like the nights that we have had together, there will be few.  We will attempt to tell stories to each other with just one word.  We will end up telling them on our bodies” (111).  Again, it is such a powerful way to take control of something through the narrative that is usually seen as a weakness, especially in 1934 when these barriers were not attempted to be broken, and Truong gives the narrative strength where there may not have been any.  And, language is even curious when it’s spoken to the damn dogs.  Bihn says, “”My liver-stuffed dogs” is what I call Basket and Pepe when their Mesdames are not around.  I say it in Vietnamese.  Believe me, “liver-stuffed dogs” sounds much lovelier in Vietnamese than in French.  Anyhow, why should I disadvantage myself with a language that these dogs are more familiar than I?”  So interesting, because Binh is saying that his language is much lovelier, but in reality, even these dogs are above him and know the language better than he. But, Binh presents an authority all his own here and dissolves the barrier.

And, on a side note, i think it is important to think about the way Asians are viewed in the book with the ongoing confusion of every Asian being from the same place, when Bihn says, “Foreigner, asiatique, and, this being Mother France, I must be Indochinese.  They do not care to discern any further, ignoring the question of whether I hail from Vietnam, Cambodia, or Laos.  Indochina, indeed” (152).  And, there is also the scene where Bihn excuses Bleriot for thinking that all of the boys are from the same family (122). Truoung gives the narrative an authority over language, though, through Bihn and his remarkable way of expressing language on his own terms, and oddly enough, in an English written text.

I am going to look at Leslie Bow’s article, and at her question, “What relations do multiple affiliation create, and what are the stakes for individuals compelled to negotiate conflicts between them?” (36) and also her statement that “feminine sexuality” can act as a “resolution to a crisis of national citizenship” (36).  How?

More specifically,  what dominates Yumi’s identity, as someone, who at the age of fourteen, develops an inappropriate sexual relationship with her teacher.  Which is very closely tied to her relationship with her father, who is a white man.  How does his ethnicity come into play with her determination of identity?  One passage that seems crucial to me, I spoke about in my blog titled Daddy’s Girl, posted on 9/28/10.

And, finally, as Yumi gets older, she proceeds to have one failed relationship after another, and one may note her troubled relationship with her son as well.  So, I have to argue that she is perpetually trying to gain the love and acceptance of her father through her relationships with men.  And, I find this problematic and fascinating, because so many women’s narratives are tied to the patriarch.  Maybe I’m just obsessed with patriarchal control because of my own complicated childhood experience with my father, but still, I think it’s worth mentioning.  And, I’m not sure that Yumi herself understands what it is she is doing with men, until the scene with Cass and she has a ‘breakthrough’ about Lloyd.

Yumi says, “I didn’t hate him, Cass, I LOVED him!”  And there it was: the unbearable truth, popping out of my own damn mouth.  Slowly, I put it all together.  ”I ran away because I loved him.  I ran away because he used to love me, and then somewhere along the line, when he couldn’t control me anymore, he just stopped, you know?””(242).

This passage strongly illustrates the connection between the formation of female identity with sex and female power derived through sex.  And, how fathers abandon their daughters emotionally  because they cannot handle the transformation from child to woman, and how it screws some gals up.

I think that it is important to note Ozeki’s use of the word “unbearable” because it raises questions about why it is so unbearable for Yumi to recognize the impact/influence of her father.  Why is the truth  that she loves Lloyd so unbearable? Because it presents the idea in the scene that women (only)gain worth through men and men’s love of them.  When a girl becomes sexualized, she finds power over the men who used to determine her identity for her, thus shifting the power structure of men and women.

And, where does Momoko fit in?  Does the sexuality of Momoko depict a stereotypical allure for white men like Lloyd?  One could argue Yumi’s idea of her mother’s sexual relationship with her father determines Yumi’s American citizenship, but more importantly, the sexual image that her mother represents to her as deemed by stereotypes of the “siren” and the “seductress” and the “foreign other”, as Bow highlights about Yoko Ono and Tokyo Rose in her article, is the bigger piece of determining sexual identity.  Does Yumi yearn to be as alluring as her mother was, as the mysterious foreign other? Does Lloyd create a break in the “homosocial allegiance” (Bow, 5).

I also want to link the idea of Yumi’s sexual identity to the promiscuity of food and her relationship with Geek.  It is interesting to look at Yumi’s relationship with Geek as the closest to her relationship with her father because it centers around her sexuality, just as her relationship with her father crumbled because of her sexuality, her relationship with Geek is formed because of her sexuality, but what does it mean that there is no actual sexual exchange between her and Geek in the novel?  Is he replacing her father as a man who focuses on her sexuality, but is not involved with her sexually,  but also loses control of her because of the power of her sexuality?

Ok, I think this is exactly what I’m getting at.  I want to look at how the female characters represented in Ozeki’s novels illustrate second generation female Asian American cultural identities, and more importantly, how their sexual power may or may not offer a transcendence from the political problems of national citizenship…I think. (I have a lot more work to do to connect these.)  But, this is also tied closely to a problematic illustration of a patriarchal hegemonic society depicted in the novel(s) which may be the usurper of sexual identity.  What do I mean?  That Lloyd is closely tied to how Yumi determines her identity and when that relationship dissolves because of her impeding sexuality, she does not find strength alone, but through a series of promiscuous activity and sexual power completely determined by the men in her life.  What does this say about progress?

Any input would be greatly appreciated…

It’s not just that Andrew said he would be more prepared for his trip to Vietnam after his journey through Mexico, and the fact that he is not.  That is actually kind of endearing.  Or, as far as form goes, there is the overuse of simile, although some I do find wonderful such as, “Trees bow and bushes quiver like slaves before an angry master” (49).  While others don’t work for me, such as, “Worn like an old leather bag” (161).  I find the chapters diving from past to present jarring at times, which is strange, because I usually love that technique.  But, in trying to determine what exactly creates this discomfort for me with the narrator, I think it comes down to his extreme ambivalence.  One could argue that he can’t be ambivalent since he is constantly making choices to go places, but he is unassuming to a fault as he passes from place to place, looking for a life changing experience, but never truly allowing anything in.  He is emotionally static.  Even after taking this journey to find some sort of mysterious answer about himself, his sister, Chi, or his family, he still seems completely stifled.   His inability to escape his brain is exhausting.  He is enveloped in a state of fear that just leads him strolling around with what seems like little purpose, although I know there is great purpose to his trip.  He is a dichotomy.

That said, I think it is important to look beyond my own feelings about the narrator and look at the bigger picture of what this text is doing.  The non-fiction account of a life so disparate and displaced is the larger point here. The narrator is speaking to a man in Vietnam and ponders on the man’s thoughts of him, “I am one of those lost souls he’s heard about. America is full of young-old Vietnamese, uncentered, uncertain of their identity” (63).  Andrew or An is broken and searching.  The text illuminates the horrors of poverty, the perception of America and how easy everything is, and how or if it is possible for the immigrant child to find their way, that place of comfort with one’s self.   In this way, the text offers a valuable canonical place in Asian American literature.  The honesty of the text gives a stunning view of a real life experience that illuminates the scope of the struggle for a cultural identity.

The narrative ultimately comes down to Andrew’s struggle for identity as an Asian American, and in order to discover that he has to face many things, his family’s past and present, being the first son,  his sister’s struggles with identity and gender identity, and his reaction to her suicide.  And ultimately, it seems the narrator is able to understand his deadened self and perhaps begin again. So, why then do I still find him so frustrating?   I’ve been asking myself this question all week.  I think that it is because the continual fear and shame that Andrew lives with is taxing.  But, the text does offer an end to the shame for the narrator, or at least an acceptance.  Finally, he is in the moment and he says, “I can taste again my stifling fears, my irrepressible joys of struggling up this coast.  Below me, all my sweetest memories of America” (342). And, then the older Vietnamese man asks him if this is America and he says, “Yes, brother.”  I smile.  ”Welcome home” (342).  That is one thing this book does beautifully; it begins and ends with an ideological bang.

Let me first say that I love Yumi, even though I find it frustrating that she is a woman who is defined by men.  The formation of her identity is completely comprised of first her father, next the perv Elliot, which is revisited later in what is such an interesting conception in her mind of being able to get back something in herself that was lost.  But, I don’t think that sleeping with the scum again gives that to her, but we’ll see.  (on  a side note, I did find myself writing scum next to some of Elliot’s passages, just sayin’)

And, finally, as Yumi gets older, she proceeds to have one failed relationship after another, and one may note her troubled relationsip with her son as well.  So, I have to argue that she is perpetually trying to gain the love and acceptance of her father through her relationships with men.  And, I find this problematic and fascinating, because so many women’s narratives are tied to the patriarch.  Maybe I’m just obsessed with patriarchal control because of my own complicated childhood experience with my father, but still, I think it’s worth mentioning.  And, I’m not sure that Yumi herself understands what it is she is doing with men, until the scene with Cass and she has a ‘breakthrough’ about Lloyd.

Yumi says, “I didn’t hate him, Cass, I loved him!”  And there it was: the unbearable truth, popping out of my own damn mouth.  Slowly, I put it all together.  ”I ran away because I loved him.  I ran away because he used to love me, and then somewhere along the line, when he couldn’t control me anymore, he just stopped, you know?”"(242).

This passage strongly illustrates the connection between the formation of female identity with sex and female power derived through sex.  And, how fathers abandon their daughters emotionally  because they cannot handle the transformation from child to woman, and how it screws some gals up.

But, even after her catharsis,  I think she fails to make the connection because she goes back to doing it with Elliot in hopes of reclaiming something, but is so conflicted by her own behavior, yet she goes ahead and does it.  She allows men to dictate her life because she is desperate for love.  Which is so annoying, but I still love Yumi!  She is so beautifully flawed, so full of regret and self-deprecation, and still maintains a quality or appearance of self actualization, and thus a strong identity, that is coveted.  Especially by Cass, who is so different.  And I think that Cass’s criticism of Yumi is merely jealousy.   Now, don’t get me wrong, I empathize with her inability to have a child, but she’s not as honest as Yumi, and that pisses me off.  And thank god she didn’t really leave with the baby.  That was scary.  (On anther side note, did anyone see the similarities between the Cass storyline and A Thousand Acres?  And, I suppose a correlation could then be made to King Lear?)

I have to mention the brilliant way that Ruth Ozeki centers this narrative around the politics of food and I love the hippies! I couldn’t imagine how they would come into contact with the Fullers and Elliot and his damn public relations firm, but it’s genius!  Another thing that I love about the novel is the humor.  One example is when Yumi says, “I was looking forward to their flowing right on out of here…” (139).  Or, “What do you do when a caravan of hippie activists shows up and wants to camp in your driveway?” (140).  I love it!  So damn brilliant.

And, finally, this reminds me about the form of the novel.  Ozeki uses first, second, and third person narration throughout (although, it is important to note that Yumi’s narration is the only first person)  and it works so well.  One would expect it to perhaps make the narrative too disjointed, but I think that it provides this wonderful overarching coalescence of the larger picture, which is how corporate America is culpable for the destruction of agriculture and American lives, on an economic level, and on a health/human level.  We’re all just commodities to the big corrupt machine.

I can’t wait to read what happens with The Seeds of Resistance and their big rally on the Fuller property against the Nulife (what a name!) potatoes.  Let the revolution begin.

Bow introduces the reader to multiple themes/conflicts associated with Asian American, American born, and female (12), and asks, “Who controls the shifting and potentially multiple identifications, associations, and allegiances that govern self-conception” (14).

Concepts to keep in mind as we examine Bow’s “trope of betrayal”:

• Sexuality
• Feminism
• Identity
• Competition/Choice
• Race and Nationalism
• Generational Divides
• Political Associations
• Economic Factors
• Citizenship
• The globalization of culture(s)
• Performance and Performativity

Sexuality…

One of the first ideas that Bow introduces is how sexuality is connected to a

perception of Asian American women. Bow uses Yoko Ono as an example

because she was seen as a traitor, a political seductress, as “the West’s corruption

by the East”, and the impetus of breaking male bonds/friendship (5).

Bow says that Ono was not seen as a threat to women as much as she was to men and that “perceptions of Yoko’s difference potentially enhanced belief in the siren’s mysterious ability to break homosocial allegiance” (5).  Bow states that women often take the blame for men’s bad choices (5), illuminating American prejudice towards women. There is another layer on top of prejudice for Ono because her influence over Lennon was supposedly greater because of her ethnicity.

Bow goes on to examine the ability of women to disrupt national politics and loyalties with ‘her’ female allure/sexuality or with female power (7). Bow uses the example of the disc jockey, Iva Toguri d’Aquino, who was thought to be ‘Tokyo Rose’, and was charged with treason for remarks she made on air. The accusations were refuted because Tokyo Rose was fictional. d’Aquino’s unattractive appearance was called into question and her accusers recanted their testimony.  When a reporter asked American GI’s what should be done to Tokyo Rose, one replied, “I’d sure like a date with her” (7). So, what would’ve happened if she was more attractive?

Feminism…

Bow’s inspection of Asian American women’s integration into Western civilization is connected to the western notion of feminism, Asian American women’s participation in feminism, and the subsequent betrayal of Asian culture. Bow says, “Sexuality becomes a gauge of progress…” (11). This is about Bow’s “trope of betrayal”, that American culture permeates Asian American women, but that pervasiveness does not necessarily have anything to do with their actions.  It has to do with their being women, being perceived as sexual, being perceived as ‘other’, and as a result, being perceived as traitors to their ethnicity. In claiming sexuality, they are viewed as abandoning tradition and welcoming western ideals (11).  You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

Competition…

Bow delves into the competition between nationality and femininity focusing on how Asian American women writers often focus on sexuality, how it can determine loyalty, and “the intersection between gender and race…is often figured as the competition between collective alliances” (25) The competition between what an Asian American women (and all women of color) chooses to identify with is the battle.

Race and Nationalism…

Bow’s talks about the idea that American patriarchal hegemonic society breaks down the Asian male role and Asian communal society through “the diminishment of traditional Asian patriarchal authority” and, in correlation, elevates the women (28).  Asian American women experienced an improvement because of the treatment of Asian American men by a dominant white culture. While these aspects improved/altered Asian American women’s rights in regards to gender, it stressed the familial relationship. Women had to make a choice between their nation and a westernized female hierarchy.

An example of this can be seen between Jenny and her father in American Woman. Jenny, early on, is forced to choose between two identities, siding with her lover and being a war activist or being a good daughter. She is forced to choose between her father, family, and Asian nationalism and her lover’s American ideals, and her sexuality. Jenny chooses her lover’s identity, “William became her world, his language her language” (Choi, 163-4).  Jenny chooses to let the competition dominate her identity.  Her gender and femininity are the at the bottom in the competition.

Bow talks about Frank Chin’s idea that Asian American women have “sold out

to white feminism” (29) and are “racial traitors”(28). Bow agrees with Chin to

the extent that there is a betrayal between feminism and nationalism reflected

in Asian American literature (29). But, she goes on to state that it is much more

complex because it has more to do with forming one’s identity in a conflicting

world of community and individuality (East versus West, but also female).

Conversely, Bow refers to Lisa Lowe’s ideas of multiculturalism and defining

one’s identity as an Asian American in Western civilization with Eastern roots,

as there can be a blending of identity with feminism and nationalism. Bow

says, “Multiculturalism is the other side of liberal feminism, both serving to

produce, in Lowe’s terms, the “‘simulacrum of inclusiveness’” (32). In an ideal

world, an Asian American women can blend western feminism with national

heritage.

Generations and Identity…

Bow looks at how identity is not passed down from generation to generation, and at Michael Fisher’s position on ethnicity as “something reinvented and reinterpreted in each generation by each individual…” (24). Bow looks at the shift in categories and determining of identity and the difference in being feminine and supporting feminism (24). In American Woman, Jenny looks at how she and her father fought when she started seeing William and revolted against the Vietnam War. She says that when they argued it was “never about issues, never about the war itself, only about her arrogance, or perhaps it was her stupidity, or her naivete in daring to oppose it” (Choi, 163). This is the generational divide enhanced by female westernization. Jenny’s father opposes her anti-war actions and her relationship with William even though her father was against World War II and refused the draft.  And, because she is a woman.

The use of identifying categories of identity…

So, what’s at stake for individuals with conflicting identity markers and who owns/determines the “trope of betrayal”?

Outside Sources That Tie In:

This website gives basic information about the Tokyo Rose case:

http://www.fbi.gov/libref/historic/famcases/rose/rose.htm

An article about Ono and Lennon’s “bed-in”:

http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,1887244_1860958,00.html

Yoko Ono’s “Ceiling Painting” or “Yes”:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/yokoonoofficial/2891959913/

And, a reinterpretation by Ono of an older piece, just for fun:

http://www.journallive.co.uk/north-east-news/todays-news/2009/02/18/yoko-ono-exhibition-adds-colour-to-the-art-world-61634-22951416/

But, onto what I believe is the bigger issue here, centered around Jenny and the competition she feels within herself and having to make choices that determine her identity.  What I can’t seem to get past after reading Leslie Bow’s article, is the question, “Who controls the shifting and potentially multiple identifications, associations, and allegiances that govern self-conception?” (14).

In the novel, American Woman, Susan Choi brings us Jenny, who is grappling with being Asian American and American born, between her father and William.  Plus, she is conflicted because of her sexuality which is tied directly to William and her mingling with Frazer (can I just say yuck to him) and her sexuality being tied to being American feminine or American sexy.   And, the continual questioning of Jenny’s ethnicity is integral to the story of the American born ‘other’.  Jenny is so conflicted by the multiple associations that determine her identity that she ends up living under an assumed name, thus hiding her true identity, because of American choices that she has made with William to blow up shit in order to rebel against the Vietnam War.  And, it seems that the idea of feminism is the last consideration, as it is also deemed to be the last consideration according in Bow’s analysis.  But interestingly, the group of women have an easier time together then when they mingle with the men.  And, I think this makes a greater point about the collective female experience and although there are hierarchies within groups of women, there is a different dynamic.  One could argue that it is less pervasive when it come to determining identity, which is why feminism falls in last place.

So, what do Jenny’s choices say about the character?  That she ultimately wants to be in a situation where her identity is not so incredibly divided?  Or is that too easy?

And, there still looms the bigger question of who owns all of these identity markers?  Although, I’m not really sure anyone can definitively answer such a loaded question…

Or, is every situation so unique and multifaceted that the origination and continual determination of one’s identity can ever truly be known? Ok, sorry, now I’m really waxing existential….

Oh, and on a side note, I just wanted to mention that I love Choi’s narrative decision to have the fugitives write a book about their story.  A book intended to earn money to pay for everything…it’s pretty genius.