50 of 50 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Accidental Asian: Sellout or sign post?, June 8, 2000
This review is from: The Accidental Asian: Notes of a Native Speaker (Paperback)
It's great to see so much activity in the reading community about this book! Especial thanks to "reader from Seattle", ax174, simon chiu, rd.fuchs and big ups to Ro S. Hoo (tell it, brother)for their comments and insights.
For the record, I liked the book, but that doesn't stop me from having some serious reservations about the vision of Asian America that Eric portrays. However, as my brothers and sisters have pointed out: it is HIS life folks, so at the very least we have to let him tell his story.
On the other hand, does he speak for everyone? Clearly not. I also thought that he had some glib responses to really important issues but it wouldnt have suited his style to get to closer grips with some of them. So I agree with everyone who said that the book needs mad context (see the folks mentioned below).
The bigger issue in some ways is that Eric's little book has forced us to think about several key issues (and of course, he's not the first to do so: there's a big list of them -Frank Chin, David Mura, Maxine Hong Kingston, Amy Tan, Ron Takaki, Evelyne Hu-De Hart, Roger Daniels (yep even the lo fan have stuff to teach us- to name a few): First, there's class. How rich your family was/is, and where you went to school make a big difference in this country, ......... having money means you can insulate yourself (and I mean that in the least judgemental way possible) from people who will tell you directly that that's what they think of you. Eric captures some of the ambivalences and double consciousness of being in that class postion very well. But he doesn't go far beyond expressing his uneasiness for the "FOB"s and "Tongyun Gai lo"s who inhabit the shadows of his suburban life. That's because "we" (middle-class, well-educated second-plus generation Chinese Americans -and other Diasporans)have yet to come to terms with "them" -those "other" Asians. The ones who haven't moved on up. Are we ashamed of them? Do they make us look bad? Do we want to be identified with "them"?
Many of us gain great benefit from being model minorities. Eric clearly has. Sure, he's worked hard and sure he's had his share of existential doubts. But at the end of the day, do we really have any experiential solidarity with the waiters and the slaughter-house workers and the sweat-shop workers? We feel we're supposed to (because we all look the same, right?) but do we walk the walk, or do we simply carry on in the good old individualistic American Way?
The second issue is related to the first. Going beyond the class divisions within the Chinese community, What does it mean to be "Asian" when there was no historical, cultural or racial solidarity to begin with? How do we manufacture solidarity if our experiences of racism (perhaps the only thing holding us together) are so varied?
I know this is an old issue, but it will keep coming up because the criteria we use to define our (personal) identities keep shifting. Those of us who grew up in the sixties and seventies never had to deal with a racist government who wouldnt let your elders be American citizens if they werent born here. We weren't barred from restaurants or barbershops or cinemas because of our race. We werent shipped off to Manzanar or Tule Lake. We didnt know people who were killed or arrested or beaten up by "the man" for being Chinese or Japanese or Filipino or Korean. Maybe we have a bit of survivor's guilt for not having had to go through that. In any case, our experience of race and racism are not the same and so the identities that resonate for us are not going to be the same. Even for people in the same "cultural" box.
The last point I want to make has to do with gender and inter-racial relationships. Eric at least has been as honest as he wants to be with this issue. I like David Mura's work on this topic too. And while love may be just love, people will politicize it whether you want to or not, so when you go there, you (both) have to be ready for the consequences. It's not enough to invoke freedom of choice because the way in which we are sexualized or racialized or class-ized by others (and the way we see others ourselves) have effects. At the very least it would be really useful to get more direct input from some of the sisters on what they think about this.
Oh, one more thing: I don't think you can use something like going to China as a one-size-fits-all experience. For me, China was profoundly disturbing, and it made me realize that I was a Diasporan and not a Chinese guy from China. Going to China simply pulls out things that are already inside you. In my experience, it doesn't really add anything more.
One of the problems for those of us who are not immigrants (and not "mainstream") is that our identities are not mapped out for us by clear models or boundaries or signposts. In some ways, we have to make it up as we go along and that's a pretty tall order. Eric's book is one attempt to put up a signpost, it may not lead in the right direction for some of us, but at least it gives us a sense of where we might go: the same way or any way but that!
I don't think I'd want to have Eric's life (although I'm sure it's very nice), but at least I know the path he's walking down. He deserves four stars for that.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
51 of 56 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Written for moderate, middle-class Asian Americans, August 18, 1998
By A Customer
Had this book remained a narrative of one man's experience of the pain and rewards of migration and assimilation to American society, I might have given this book five stars. Liu's reflections on his father, grandmother, and himself are very moving, controlled, and extremely well-written. However, when he ventures into the realm of political commentary, it becomes clear that Liu has a number of blind spots. You might find his commentary true if you actually are an American-born Asian, socially, linguistically, and economically assimilated. However, I felt that Liu left out quite a bit of what it really means to be of Asian descent in this country. He does not delve too deeply into the pains one experiences when separated physically and linguistically from one's past and even from one's parents. Of course, Liu, a political commentator on a national network and a speechwriter for President Clinton, has been well-compensated for his assimilation into the American mainstream. However, I submit that for many Asians in this country, Vietnamese, Filipinos, Cambodians, Laotians, and mixed Asians, life in America has been an unbearably lonely and at times miserable experience of alienation and misrecognition. I do agree that Asians in this country do, in a way, live up to the image of the "model minority", but I must also say that the success is tenuous. Richard Rodriguez, to whom Liu is (in many ways unjustifiably) compared, commented that "The best metaphor for America remains the dreadful metaphor: the Melting Pot. Jump into the Melting Pot, fall into the Melting Pot, resist the Melting Pot, it makes no difference. You will find yourself a stranger to your parents, to your own memory of yourself." I believe that this short excerpt captures the essence of what it means to be a second US-born generation American of immigrant parentage far more aptly then Liu's entire book does. What makes this book even less appealing is that Liu trivializes the efforts of Asian Americans in the sixties, irresponsibly not realizing that first of all, these Asians came from a completely different background from Liu's, and that second of all, there are many young and educated Asian Americans today who do appreciate the efforts of Asian Americans of previous generations. To conclude, I believe that Liu's wordplay on the title of James Baldwin's book "Notes of a Native Son" is an unjustified rip-off. Baldwin delved deeply into areas of identity and humanity where Liu barely wades. Liu's self-conscious references to Baldwin and Rodriguez in fact do Liu a disservice by making it seem as though "The Accidental Asian" were merely an Asian submission to fill the required quota of this genre and nothing more.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
29 of 33 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
accidental race awareness, August 8, 2002
This review is from: The Accidental Asian: Notes of a Native Speaker (Paperback)
By titling the book "The Accidental Asian: Notes of a Native Speaker" Eric Liu leaves little doubt as to his outlook on racial self-identity. He is Asian only by 'accident'--if it were up to him he would shed his skin like an ermine coat in summer. He wants to make sure you know he is a Native Speaker. Of what? And this is supposed to shock and please: don't all Asians speak English with a bad accent? On his list of things about himself that he thinks people might characterize as 'white', Eric Liu mentions that he speaks 'unaccented English'. The mere fact that he thinks an 'unaccented English' exists at all speaks volumes--the myth that there is a normalcy, an order in which anything that is not mainstream is to be slapped with otherness. There is the Southern 'accent'; there is the Australian 'accent'; and he speaks the 'unaccented' English. Oh the model minority. The good ol' 'if you try hard enough, you can almost become white' sentiment, without the hard edge. The same type of racial unawareness would persist throughout the rest of the book. And the fascinating thing about the book is that it is supposed to be a reflection on racial self-identity.
Eric Liu describes how in college he avoided Asian student groups because he did not want to be a member of self-segregating, crusading fanatics. He prides himself on the fact that race notwithstanding he was able to penetrate into the 'center of power'--if being a speech writer for Clinton can justify that claim. He never was subject to ostensible forms of racism. What Eric Liu does not realize is that if things were as easy for most people of color as they were for him, nobody would in their right minds choose to be a race militant.
The book does, however, appear to have honest intentions. Eric Liu speaks in the first person not of opinions or personal agenda, at least for the most part, but questions and reflections. He may not be adequately knowledgeable about race issues--partly due to the upper middle class success that shields him from reality--but at the very least he makes an effort to examine them. The book has the appearance and the candor of an edited personal diary, telling stories that many Asian Americans can relate to. Episodes like the struggle with Asian hair, the rebellion against stereotypes by running the opposite direction, the history of assimilation and then rebirth of self-identity, and the adolescent frustration with 'getting chicks'--would evoke the shared experience and the understanding smile on perhaps 9 out of every 10 Asian American men. The book is a recommendable read, although readers who do not hope to deceive themselves should also read Malcom X's autobiography and "Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?" by Dr. Tatum--books that I itched to send to Eric Liu while I was reading his book.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
