32 of 33 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
My own thoughts/reflections on America..., September 10, 2004
This review is from: America Is in the Heart: A Personal History (Washington Paperbacks, Wp-68) (Paperback)
This book tells the story of Allos (or Carlos) Bulosan - from his early days as a peasant child in the Phillipines to his days as an itinerant laborer and reformer for the Filipinos in America. This autobiography reflects the hard life of a persecuted nationality. With no rights to own agricultural land and the risks of being beaten for even conversing with a white women, Filipinos were despised along the West Coast and treated as criminals and monkeys. With no legal recourse or organizations, Filipino workers were often exploited by the contractors and the Chinese and Japanese who owned the gambling houses and whorehouses. This exploitation led many to drinking and violence, only to aggravate the hatred of their kind. Bulosan tells of the brutalities endured by Filipinos at the hands of the white community and of the terrors of disease and unemployment. How many times did Bulosan have to hear "You're fired!" after trying to stand up for himself and his people.
One thing that struck me about the book was the concept of meeting your siblings when you're old enough to remember it. Having grown up with my older sister always at my side, the first scene in which he firsts meets his older brother, Leon seemed very foreign to me. It brought home the point that working families didn't always have the luxury of living together. To survive, each family member had to contribute whether it was working the fields or selling goods in the market, but it meant that the whole family was not united. This family never seemed to be fully together, at least one sibling or parent was always away, trying to do their part. It was hard for me to really relate to that, although I certainly felt for them.
Another concept that I noticed was the sense of time in the book. While Carlos was in America, I never really grasped how much time was passing, and it seemed that Carlos himself didn't either. When reflecting, he often wondered at how many years it had been since he arrived in Seattle. Even after reading the book, I'm not sure exactly of the years that this autobiography covers, although I'm given a few references to historical events and figures. While years seemed to be pass by unnoticed, Carlos writes of an "acute sense of time" because he has to focus on the present just to survive. He writes, "yesterday seemed long ago and tomorrow was too far away. It was today that I lived for aimless, this hour - this moment." That to me was an interesting contrast.
Carlos also wrote of the conflicting visions of America - how it could be so cruel at times, while certain aspects could be so kind. He could not understand the country that terrorized his people, and yet contained some people so willing to help. The violence and pain Carlos experienced made him fear even himself - that he would not be able to contain his rage and would last out. He was afraid of his own brutality, even when he longed for goodness and love in the country of opportunity.
This book is filled with names and places, and it is often difficult to remember exactly who's who or what happened in which city. As Carlos travels all along the West Coast and meets a great many people. Surprisingly to me, his world seems small, as he meets most of his friends and companions multiple times during his travels. Seemingly by chance, he encounters his brothers who came to America before him. Maybe it was vastly different then, but I have a hard time imagining that continuous traveling on the coast would lead you to your family and friends as often as it did for Carlos. However, since the Filipinos were confined to certain districts, I guess it shouldn't be so surprising.
The last parts of the book relate Carlos' experience in trying to organize the Filipino labor movement, and his intellectual emergence as a writer. Throughout this section, Carlos regains his faith in America, as he meets more people fighting for his people and reads dozens of books proving that situations can get better and uneducated people can write the story of their people and their struggles. America became a part of Carlos - through it's land and his struggles and successes in it. He wanted desperately to help America grow into the country he knew it could be, and he sacrificed so much for America. His hopes were contained within America, and so America was contained within him.
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18 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
The Manong Generation, March 15, 2001
This review is from: America Is in the Heart: A Personal History (Washington Paperbacks, Wp-68) (Paperback)
This book is about my father, Dionisio U. Halog, an American Hero in WW2 as all of the Filipinos who fought for the red, white and blue. The manong generation is explicitly defined in Carlos's writings. My father was one of many who worked the plantations in Hawaii,Arizona and California and when the call to battle rang he joined many brave Filipino warriors do defend American honor. The racism inflicted on these proud men did not break their spirit as Carlos defines that spirit in his many examples. My father is buried in Golden Gate National cemetary with many heroes of our country. I thank Carlos Bulosan for his insight on this generation of proud men and I'm dammed proud tht I'm the son of one of them.
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20 of 22 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Not really a review, but a sharing of experiences (sorta), December 28, 2002
This review is from: America Is in the Heart: A Personal History (Washington Paperbacks, Wp-68) (Paperback)
Essential reading? I dunno. Nonetheless, Bulosan's story is intensely personal and has historical weight in its documentation of the migrant experience. His isn't unique in any regard and you need only look around at the fields that hug the California freeways to catch a glimpse of migrant workers who are, to this day, living experiences similar to what Bulosan described then -- migrating up and down the coast, often without papers and in fear of authority; work conditions that can be intensely hot and bitterly cold, as well as low-paying and piecemeal; often overcramped living quarters; meager or no health services for those who suffer illness; rampant alcoholism and drug use to deaden one's existence. That the book was written several decades ago indicates that not much has changed, except for the major ethnicity of those in the fields. But enough about that.
I acquired a copy of this book from a friend, from an affluent California family who had it assigned to her in a college class, which I believe was her own forced attempt to learn more about a Filipino now-ex-boyfriend's heritage. Her quick assessment: "boring." I, on the other hand, found it fascinating, because of the similar experiences my uncle went through prior to and during his time as a migrant worker in Dole's pineapple fields in the Marshall Islands: both my father and uncle described to me stories of being poverty-stricken working the land, then Japanese occupation driving them further into destitution, which eventually drove them to seek a better life in what Maxine Hong Kingston's relatives describe as "The Golden Mountain" in her book "China Men." My uncle related the harsh working conditions in the fields; the ethnic infighting (dark-skinned vs. "mestizos") and culture clashes among differing ethnic groups. His world didn't seem as brutal as Bulosan's, but the mere memory of my dad's and uncle's stories can be stirred up by reading passages from Bulosan's book. (My father's route took him to California by way of recruitment into the Navy prior to the Korean War; this is not covered in the book, although "America..." does cover laws and enactions that affected Filipinos in the preface.) My dear, departed godfathers where also migrant workers; I don't remember their stories, but I do remember visiting them in their migrant co-op housing in Oxnard, where I remember the smell of Jim Beam, pipe tobacco, and oranges, in the fields now covered over by parking lots and strip malls.
To sum it up: Intensely personal story that might be lost on some readers (such as my friend); if you're Filipino, read this book. If you're of another ethnicity whose part of the migratory experience of California, it's worth reading for a comparison to other, similar stories.
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