I began Denise Chong's The Concubine's Children shortly after I received an email from Dr. Martineau in August urging his students to start reading this and Emily Carr's Klee Wyck. Little did I know, his email turned out to be a scare tactic. Nevertheless, upon skimming over the "about the author" back flap of the novel, I immediately categorized The Concubine's Children as another book dealing with a "Canadian-born Chinese mourning the loss of his/her ethnic roots." I apologize if this statement comes off with a negative connotation; in fact, I am quite pleased a book like this has shown up on the English 470 book list (that is, if my presumption of the book is what I believe it is). In English 470: Producing BC in Words and Images, our class will be discussing various books such as Emily Carr's Klee Wyck, Bill Reid's Solitary Raven, and Denise Chong's The Concubine's Children, a diverse selection of written work with respect to different cultures. Specifically, Chong's book speaks to me.

Here is why I find Chinese-Canadian memoirs intriguing. Back when Amy Tan's The Joy Luck Club came onto the big screen, as I watched the movie, I was taken aback by the lack of June's knowledge of her Chinese roots. I had a chance to read Wayson Choy's The Jade Peony two summers ago and once again, the notion of the loss of one's cultural roots was brought to my attention. Being a "banana" myself (a Canadian-born Chinese with a yellow complexion, comprised wholly of Western culture), Choy's novel triggered my own interest and realization that many of us "bananas" grapple with the notion that we are a new breed, a deviation from "authentic" Chinese. It is both a relief and unfortunate there are so many "bananas" amongst me: Relief because I am not the only one dealing with a cultural clash, unfortunate we "bananas" are so disconnected from our culture, and more specifically, our great-grandparents, if not grandparents. A prime example is a publication, aptly named Banana, a Vancouver-based magazine written by Canadian-born Chinese dealing with the struggle of communication between "bananas" and elders of the previous generations. Fifty years set after Chong's (and Choy's) memoirs of childhood, why are we still fighting the fight of Chinese-Canadians of the 1950s?

I am thoroughly enjoying how the story is unfolding although I am still far from finishing the book. Further discussion of The Concubine's Children will come to a halt for now, as I must set it aside and focus on Emily Carr's Klee Wyck.