The Joy Luck Club

When her mother, Suyuan, dies Jing-mei "June" Woo is invited to take her place in the mah jong table in the Joy Luck Club along with her friends, An-mei Hsu, Lindo Jong, and Ying-ying St. Clair. The women were from various places in China with very different backgrounds, but all met after they immigrated to San Francisco in the late 1940s. The narrative intersperses their stories with that of their American daughters, including Rose Hsu Jordan, Waverly Jong, and Lena St. Clair in addition to Jing-mei.

I had to keep reminding myself that this book was written in 1989, because it didn't read like a nearly 35-year-old book. The stories are set up as each move in a mah jong game, eventually building up to a whole that gives the reader a show more fuller perspective of the seven narrators' stories, and that of the newly-deceased Suyuan, despite the fact that she never speaks herself. It's intricately crafted and shows how little we can really know of another person: like these mothers and daughters, we see others through our own prisms of experience and our relationship with them, not necessarily seeing the complex whole of a human being. An excellent book club choice. show less

I just finished rereading this book for the second time in less than a month. I'm preparing for a special get-together of my book club. We first met to talk about this book, The Joy Luck Club, in 1990 (or 1989), before book clubs were really 'a thing.' I remember my excitement at being included in this group of women who loved to read, and being totally blown away by Tan's book, which was like nothing I had ever read before. A book about four mothers and four daughters, a book that showed everyone's point of view, conflicting and otherwise. I book that showed the tensions but, mostly, the love between mothers and daughters, and the difficulties faced by Chinese-born mothers and their American-born children. "One cannot read a book. One show more can only reread it." A quote attributed to Nabokov (among others). I know rereading a loved book can sometimes prove disappointing, but I was confident that this wouldn't be the case with TJLC. In fact, the opposite was true, because now that I'm 35 years older than I was when I first read it, I still feel compassion for all of the characters, but much more than before for the 'misunderstood' mothers. TJLC is a book that doesn't merely hold up on rereading, but that yields even greater gifts. show less

The structuring of this 'novel' intrigues me: four pairs of mother-daughter, two stories allocated to each individual, adding up to sixteen stories spread across four delineated sections. As balance is a recurring theme, I wonder whether there isn't some unstated significance to this? Each of the sixteen chapters is a wonderful whole and delicately written with its own beginning and end; any one of them could be excerpted and presented independently. The challenge lies in remembering whose daughter or mother is whose, and filtering which stories I'd already read that belonged to them. I was frequently flipping back to confirm these things, or referencing the helpful list at the front that pairs the mother-daughter sets, so I'd not show more recommend an e-book version.

In the first section we're provided with the background of the mothers' lives in China, with exposure to the different place and culture they grew up in, the hardships unique to those circumstances that they had to overcome - fleeing from war, or an arranged marriage, etc. In the second section we're given the childhood perspective of their daughters: children who do not know or understand this background we've been given, trying to interpret and absorb their mothers' lessons as they are growing up in America. The third section presents the daughters as adults probing in search of new adult relationships with their mothers (including my favourite chapter, "Four Directions"). The concluding section belongs again to the mothers, completing their stories by describing how they came to America. For all that the daughters feel burdened by what their mothers say, they've little idea about the weight of what has not been told.

The result is eight well-rounded characters: four who are wise with age, and four who have struggled under the shadow of that wisdom but are beginning to find their own. Four pairings that complement one another to produce a fulsome picture of Chinese immigration and integration with the West, but also a wonderful portrait of mother-daughter relationships and the handing down of knowledge and culture. show less

Tan creates endearing stories about mothers and daughters in this book. She takes us into the minds of chinese women in a way that I have never been previously exposed to in writing, which makes it very interesting to read about. The elements that she gives each character is such a human truth that you don't instantly think of the fact that these are chinese characters, but that they are people that you could bump into at the supermarket on a daily basis. Many times while reading this book I forgot that I was reading a book and not peering into the lives of actual people. To be able to create a world so focused and fine-tuned that one feels it is real is something only a skilled author can do and that is what I feel Amy Tan is.

The book show more takes us through many journeys of China from rich families, families broken up due to war, and to those coming to America for a better life. Each story is wrapped up beautifully, but also adds to the depth of the overall story of these women. If you want a story that speaks about powerful women without trying to intentionally make them powerful then this is a book to read because these women are real. They have true emotions and live true lives. Never do you question the motivation of any of the characters.

Tan doesn't describe scenes in my opinion, but gets us to understand the actions of the characters. She is able to make you understand to a pinpoint why a character is saying what they are in the book. Also you get a better understanding of an older generation vs. a younger generation because of this book. This truly is a gem and I look forward to reading some of her other works. show less

Having enjoyed Tan's memoir on writing so much - [Where the Past Begins] - it was quite enlightening to dip into her first novel for the first time. Knowing the story behind the story enhanced the narrative for me. There is so much about identity, what makes it and how it counterbalances to self-image and how self-perception of identity can often be so skewed. Tan paints with a far more subtle brush than I think most people realize - the film version was wonderful, but it necessarily loses the subtlety Tan accomplishes here in the written version.

5 bones!!!!!
Highly Recommended

This is a story of mothers and daughters, structured around the four women players of a regular game of mahjong. Each of four sections is split into four parts, one for each of the mahjong players, simulating the taking of turns during a game. It starts with the mother’s life in China and proceeds to the daughter’s life in the US.

One of the highlights is the portrayal of the Chinese culture and traditions, and the difficulty of passing them along to a younger generation, especially those immersed in American culture. I think the author does an excellent job of putting the reader into the heads of both generations. We see the older women through the lens of the younger, and vice-versa, so we understand their motivations and also see show more the disconnects between the generations.

The novel examines the changing roles of women, which becomes more pronounced when compared to the traditions of past generations of Chinese women deferring to men, sacrificing for the family, and suffering in silence. The game of mahjong is not discussed in any detail. I found it a delightful exploration of the value of family, memories, and identity. show less

2021 re-read: The way this book is set up, it feels more like a series of vignettes than a complete novel. And honestly, I think I like it better that way: as a series of novellas or novelettes. Some of them I like a lot better than others, but there's only minimal connection between most of the vignettes. In general, I like the stories told by the mothers better. They are more lyrical, more fantastical.

The book as a whole didn't have as big an impact on me this time. It could easily be because I've now read many other works by a much more varied set of authors than I had when I read this for the first time. It could be my stage in life, or the fact that I was reading alone this time instead of having a school group to study the book show more with like I did the first time. It was still worth the re-read, though, and I plan to read more of Tan's works in the future. Historical/literary fiction isn't normally my cup of tea, so I didn't expect to love this as much as I would have if it was a fantasy. But it was still enjoyable, and I'm glad I picked it up.

Two quick content notes with minor spoilers:
1) there is a reference in the second half of the book to a gay man, and some ugly comments are made. This book was written in the late 80's, during the peak of the AIDS epidemic in the US. This doesn't make the comments right, but it does provide context about why they are there.

2) There is a child death and a miscarriage/abortion in this book. One of the characters tells a story that includes her toddler brother drowning. Another tells of losing an unborn baby, but because of how it's told I can't say for sure if it was miscarriage or abortion. Neither story is particularly graphic, but it could be hard to read for those who have triggers of this nature. show less