From Publishers Weekly
Yep fumbles with this strained tale about an 11-year-old girl who yearns to dance. The star of her ballet class, Robin Lee has to give up her lessons at Madame Oblamov's academy when her mother imposes a draconian budget on the household, in order to save enough money to bring Robin's grandmother from China to the Lees' home in San Francisco. Robin gamely practices on her own, stuffing her feet into outgrown toe shoes and dreaming of her return to ballet school, but tuition money isn't available, even after her grandmother finally moves in. To make matters worse, Grandmother blatantly favors Robin's younger brother. In a forced parallel, Robin damages her feet (those too-small toe shoes), and only Grandmother can understand her determination to dance anyway: Grandmother's feet were bound in childhood and, despite immense pain, she unbound them in adulthood as a way of embracing modern values. A lot of the characterizations here verge on stereotypes: the indomitable Chinese matriarch, the unstoppable young artist with a dream, the impoverished but noble-hearted Russian ballet mistress. Combine this with the adults' extremist stances (Mom won't even let Robin keep the $20 her other grandmother sends for Christmas), and the novel reads as a lengthy contrivance. Ages 10-14.
Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Gr. 5^-7. Robin, 11, is a gifted dancer, and she bitterly resents having to give up her ballet classes to help her parents pay for her lame grandmother to come from Hong Kong to live with them in San Francisco. To make things worse, Grandmother treats Robin with contempt. But when Robin discovers Grandmother's terrible secret--her grotesquely mangled broken feet--their relationship suddenly changes. Chinese foot-binding is dramatic social history, but the contemporary fiction is contrived, with purposive dialogue and coincidences and heavy metaphors. Robin's feet begin to hurt because she practices ballet on concrete floors with too-tight shoes; and, in case we still don't get the parallel, she reads the story of the brave little mermaid who wanted to walk even though it hurt. Yep has written novels with considerable depth and subtlety about the Chinese American experience, but here we get only glimpses of Robin's interracial family and her neighborhood friends; they never quite come together as people in a story. As in Yep's
Hiroshima (1995), it's the fact that's compelling.
Hazel Rochman