Book 1 Post 2 - Beautiful Country

The memoir I chose for book 1 was Beautiful Country by Qian Julie Wang, now a managing partner at a law firm in Brooklyn, NY. I initially chose the book for a new perspective on the Asian-American experience; through my reading of the memoir, I gained that and so much more. The memoir unearths her childhood experiences, first her early childhood spent in China and later her move to New York, where her father moved first to escape a repressive Chinese Communist regime. Her and her mother moved shortly after to join him, and after their visas expired they became undocumented immigrants, living illegally in the United States of America. The memoir details her struggles with poverty, parental conflicts, education, racism, and a constant battle with her status as an illegal immigrant. There is so much more nuance that is captured in her writing, but fundamentally that’s what the memoir is about.

Again, I initially chose the memoir for the new perspective on the Chinese-American experience. As I’ve learned more about the Asian-American experience, I’ve come to realize that the term “Asian-American” cannot be encapsulated under that monolithic expression, and this memoir has done more than enough to remind me of that. Even though we would both consider ourselves Chinese-American, our upbringings could not have been more different (in some senses). I never grew up in constant fear of being deported, she did. Her parents were professors of English and mathematics in China, yet unable to practice either while in the USA. They had to work in sweatshops to make ends meet. In contrast, my parents came here sponsored by government-backed STEM grants for students to live and study in the USA. They received PhD’s in their respective fields (microbiology and marine biology) and I grew up relatively privileged because of that. Significantly, I’ve never ever been called a “chink.” Unfortunately, however, that hateful word has been used against her and so many others, while I grew up with the privilege not knowing the hate behind that word. The word bears no meaning for me, while I’m sure it was a significant catalyst for negative emotions for Wang. It’s something I feel that I’ve taken for granted, and it feels important for me to acknowledge that people like her have, and still do, bear that burden so that people like me can live the way I do. Even despite all these differences, I found comfort in knowing many similarities. The experiences of warmth from specific Chinese comfort foods (tomato and egg, pork and century-egg congee, etc.) that the typical American might not first think of when imagining Chinese cuisine really struck a chord with me. She also had memories of missing an overseas Grandma, which I strongly relate to currently as I am unable to see my grandmother due to COVID-19 travel restrictions. I also remember other white kids at my elementary school throwing away half of their Lunchables while I sat and finished my food. All these gave me comfort in knowing that despite our glaring differences, there are many uniting factors about our culture that make her story all the more relatable. 

Her relatability fundamentally brings me to my enjoyment of her writing style. Her constant weaving of Chinese with English feels extremely comfortable and natural for me, someone who grew up speaking “Chinglish” with my parents. Sometimes the Chinese words would be used for phrases/terms in English for which there could be no suitable replacement. For example, it’s difficult to explain what a “hu tong” is, and so she just left it in her memoir in a sentence like “I remember running through a hu tong.” For reference, according to Wikipedia, “hu tong” are “a type of narrow street or alley commonly associated with northern Chinese cities, especially Beijing.” But those words really fail to capture what a “hu tong” really is. A “hu tong” is just a “hu tong” and there’s no real way to explain it. You need to have walked through one, ordered a bottle of Beijing yogurt from one to really have that image in your mind when that phrase comes up. That’s just one example, there are many others. Another reference I remember is when she referred to an airplane as a “flying machine.” To someone who doesn’t speak Mandarin, this may seem like just an odd/childish way to explain what an airplane is. Knowing that airplane in Mandarin is “fei ji” makes a big difference when “fei” literally means fly/flying and “ji” means machine. Especially when as a child when it’s easy to take Chinese words much more literally, it felt extremely relatable when there were other moments of taking Chinese words literally when the combined meaning of different parts of phrases give the whole phrase a different contextual meaning. It’s really a way of engaging with literature that I’ve never really done before, and it was extremely refreshing. Perhaps the biggest part of it was the naming of the book, “Beautiful Country” which is the literal translation for the words for “America” in Chinese. At first, I was a bit disappointed at the misrepresentation, given that in reality the literal meaning for the name of “America” being “Beautiful Country” is mere coincidence; “Mei Guo” is the short form for a transliteration of America, no more and no less. But as I read deeper into the memoir and realized that most of it was from a child’s perspective, I remembered that as a child, I had the same question regarding the name of America as “Mei Guo.” Like, what was so beautiful about America? What was so “Mei” about “Mei Guo?” As that theme popped up more and more throughout the memoir, I realized that she was in constant evaluation of how beautiful the country really was, how it had taken care of her parents, and what kind of experience the country gave to her upbringing. Reading through the memoir I found many moments of relatability yet I was also challenged to expand my perspective, and I really appreciated the experience because of that.