Truth be told, reading this book was not pleasant at all. In other words, I find this novel demanding, distracting and discomforting. My limited vocabulary and the narrator’s stream of consciousness prevented me from understanding and completing it. As I tried moving on, description of physical violence and gay sex led to my emotional discomfort, forcing me to pause from time to time. Such experience I did not expect, for I had assumed it might be a book like “Chemistry”, a book that explores the influence of family of origin or a relationship dilemma facing generations of immigrants in the US. But it was not; the novel of this month covers more issues, drugs and homophobia included, for which I wished to keep it for another day. That said, I finished it at last, albeit painfully.
Although this book is not my type, there are still some words thought-provoking, which I’d like to share.
“… sorry is a tool one uses to pander until the word itself becomes currency. It no longer merely apologizes, but insists, reminds: I’m here, right here, beneath you. It is the lowering of oneself so that the client feels right, superior, and charitable… Being sorry pays, being sorry even, or especially, when one has no fault, is worth every self-deprecating syllable the mouth allows. Because the mouth must eat.” [1]
You know what? On seeing such truth, I couldn’t help but recall my memories of saying sorry. It is hard not to reflect on that, for saying sorry is a habit I have developed from childhood. As I used to be bullied by my classmates before college, I was used to saying sorry and calling them “brother”. In recent years I have continued to apologize to clients, so as to keep them satisfied and avoid complaints. For this reason, I didn’t see any value in my jobs and quit several times. So, what I am trying to say is that we can use “sorry” as a communication tool but we should never allow others to utilize it as a weapon to degrade ourselves.
“Up until then I didn’t think a white boy could hate anything about his life. I wanted to know him through and through, by that very hate. Because that’s what you give anyone who sees you, I thought. You take their hatred head-on, and you cross it, like a bridge, to face them, to enter them.” [2]
There’s always been this magnetism, right? Just as the proverb goes, “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.” I am glad that I have one or two friends who can see me and vice versa.
“… the grandma rolls a freshly boiled egg over the boy’s face where, a few minutes ago, his mother had flung an empty ceramic teapot that exploded on the boy’s cheek…” “Swallow. Your bruises are inside it now. Swallow and it won’t hurt anymore.” [3]
My heart ached the moment that violent scene came into my mind, for I have been there, for I once talked about the impacts of corporal punishment on me. It is too big a topic for me to go into details right now, so I’ll just leave it at that. By the way, I show great respect to this grandmother, and I was touched by her love for the protagonist from start to finish. Luckily, I have some elders or teachers who really care about me when I suffer. I sincerely thank them for their help.
“Is that what art is? To be touched thinking what we feel is ours when, in the end, it was someone else, in longing, who finds us? [4]
Personally, I think the author is talking about resonance or empathy that arises from writing, and that’s indeed how it feels to have someone else who really sees you. Three years ago, I opened my first WeChat Official Account, on which I wrote some articles about English reading. Guess what? A young man, who was preparing for the national postgraduate entrance examination, became a die-hard fan of me and inspired me to keep writing when I decided to give it up. I still remember clearly what he said to me.
“切莫不问学问之有无，唯争金钱之高寡。”
I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you are reading this review, I share that with you. Keeping reading. Keeping learning and growing.