Wednesday, April 10

Please respond to anything that particularly interested you in Interior Chinatown. Here are some prompts to get you started thinking:

  • One of the most striking aspects of this novel is its form.  What do you think Yu gains by writing the novel as a screenplay?
  • In  your own reading of the novel, where did you think reality ended and metaphor began?  In other words, did you think all these characters were really actors playing roles in various tv shows and movies?
  • Talk about Willis’s desire to become Kung Fu Guy.  What do you think are the social, political, and/or metaphorical connotations of this dream?  Does Willis hold onto it all the way to the end of the novel?
  • Discuss a particular supporting character such as Older Brother, Willis’s father (Sifu), his mother, or Phoebe and “Phoebe Land.”  What does your chosen character represent?  Why are they important in the novel?
  • What did you think about the cop show Black and White?  What is its function in the book?
  • How does the novel address history, especially the history of Chinese immigration and oppression?  What about the theme of assimilation?
  • Did you find the novel funny?  Were there scenes you especially responded to?
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6 Responses to Wednesday, April 10

  1. Lennie Barnes says:

    It took me a little bit to become accustomed to the form of Interior Chinatown – I had no preconceptions entering the book, and was initially a little disoriented. Having finished it, I am in awe of Yu’s creativity and dexterity in relating this story through the ironic and humorous lens of a screenplay. This format is meaningful on so many levels – Chinatown as a specific “stage set” for Asian immigrants, one which Americans can recognize and accept, separate but adjacent – and the more universal sensation that we’re all playing a role versus living the individual, authentic lives we’d hope to manifest.

    Wu’s designation as “Generic Asian Man” is both heart-wrenching and achingly, embarrassingly real. In every aspect of life, we consciously or subconsciously assign labels and categories to people, none more so than people who don’t look like ourselves. Beginning with the resumes/list of roles Wu and his parents have played, culminating in Wu’s achievement of the long-desired role as Kung Fu Man and his subsequent realization of the emptiness of it and rejection of it, Yu takes the reader on a cultural journey and sociological examination of the ongoing biases, obstacles and bigotry inherent to our “melting pot” society. I couldn’t help wonder how this format would apply to my own life (what “roles”/labels would be attached to my own life, what roles have I attached to others?). This response to me is the hallmark of a genuinely thought-provoking novel.
    The theme of assimilation is so consistently and specifically addressed, represented in the food Wu’s mother prepares, the smells throughout the SRO, the restaurant downstairs, and the roles they all play in it. It’s so vivid and poignant in its tribute to its residents’ heritage and displacement among a predominantly white American “Hollywood” environment. The self-awareness of the Asian “actors” and the conflict inherent to assimilation – what do we reject of our own culture, what do we adapt of the new culture – is so well portrayed, culminating in the court scene where Older Brother defends “You”‘s case: “But the experience of Asians in America isn’t just a scaled-back or dialed-down version of the Black experience. Instead of co-opting someone else’s experience or consciousness he must define his own.” p. 235 I think the novel ends on an optimistic note, with Wu moving out of the SRO, embracing Phoebe’s new world, and working toward defining his own.

  2. Melissa Hughes says:

    The structure of this book was fascinating – I’ve never read anything like it. I found that it kept me a little off-balance – at first I thought “ah, interesting metaphor!”, but then I’d think “ok, they really ARE filming a TV show here…”, but then later again, clearly metaphor? I eventually was just along for the ride, willing to accept the TV show as both real and not-real. I think this might be part of the intent – when you’re always “playing a role”, it gets hard to discern the difference between reality and the role – where does the role stop and “you” begin?

    Another feature of “playing a role” that is clear (and uncomfortable, verging on painful at times) in the novel is how complicit everyone is in the process. The characters engage in their “roles”, seek them out, welcome them. And the rest of us, the “audience” – we’re happy to allow them to be summarized by their role, identified by it. The structure of the novel makes the reader a direct part of that action, I think – we’re seeing the characters as their roles, because that’s how they’re presented to us. Then we need to face the fact that we’re seeing people as roles. There are definitely layers, here.

  3. Michela Polito says:

    If I have to be completely honest, this is the only novel we’ve read that I found myself struggling to finish.
    Although I recognize its many strengths, and despite being a foreigner myself, therefore well acknowledged of the issues he explores, this novel doesn’t resonate with me.
    For example, recurring to the screenplay format is surely a very astute method for handling focalization, since it enabled him to present multiple voices and points of view without resorting to the amaturi-ish and outdated practice of employing an omniscent narrator for numerous characters. It also enabled him to blend reality and representation in visual media, surely a unique solution to explore themes such as identity and cultural assimilation.
    However, I found this stylistic choice distracting and disruptive of the narration flow, which is what made it challenging for me to complete the reading. I also suspect that my experience might not be so unique, and that resorting to this type of format in a novel might be inherently distracting and dispersive.

  4. Lindsey Copeland says:

    I agree with a couple folks that the form started as a little hard to follow. Once I got into it – it was much easier to “see the vision” – as it were. I thought using the 2nd person narrative form was so well used and obviously felt really intentional by the author. It’s a really pointed way of putting the reader into the shoes of the “Generic Asian Man” role to be able to tell the story.

    I did enjoy the screenplay format, I’d say about half way through the book. It became more apparent as to the WHY of that format the more I read on. Using the model of the Black and White detectives vs. Generic Asian Man as firstly unnamed roles set the story up to be about how each race is propped up in culture and media (like a procedural drama tv show). The form in and of itself is commentary on racial stereotypes in culture and media.

    It was such a quick read for me. I flew through it in a couple hours and has topped to be one of my favorites from this year! It was hilarious. It was intriguing.

    The only thing I did not enjoy as much as the others was the very ending. The format of setting up the trial was also a very on-the-nose, pointed way of getting to the point of the novel and I enjoyed reading it, but everything else was so beautifully nuanced that this felt… less elegant.

  5. Suz Guthmann says:

    I thought the Cop Show “Black and White” was really interesting and honestly, very trippy. It created layers upon layers of intricate details that all worked together to tell the story of Willis. As a semi-frequent watcher of shows like “Law and Order: SVU” and “Criminal Minds,” I totally understood the trope. Minor characters, frequently played by people of color, are often unnamed and repeated in the backgrounds of shows without any context. A non-crime show example of this would be Bohkee, a scrub nurse that has appeared in over 260 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy but has an estimated three lines in the entire series, somehow only communicating with side glances and raised eyebrows.

    I thought that the tension between Willis and Turner where Turner is accusing of Willis of being a “model minority.” Quote: “You really like that, don’t you? When Green stiks up for you. Feels good to have WHITE on your side, don’t it? Have her approval…. You said it, I didn’t. Don’t you see? This is how it works. We’re fighting with each other. I don’t want to be doing this any more than you do. And Green gets to be the bigger person. Why do you care what she thinks anyway? You heard what you are to her: Asian Guy,” (97).

    For me, this really encapsulates the struggle of the whole book. Everyone is being pigeonholed into a role, like Willis being “Asian guy,” Turner being the “Black Cop,” and Karen as “Mini Boss.” The entire book really made me think about a lot of things in a new way and I really liked the format.

  6. Peyton Niemeyer says:

    I want to start off by noting the format of the story. I absolutely loved that the story was in screenplay format and I also love how it was put into a second person point of view. The show and the underlying story of Willis is happening at the same time and I love how there is a blend between them in that the show is a reflection of what white Hollywood executives believe the world to be, and then Willis’ experience is what is truly being experienced by many Asian Americans. I also find the presence of film to be interesting because I took a course on racism in film and I learned that if you follow the tropes of different demographics far enough, you will see where they came from and see the racist roots of many of them. I keep thinking about the reference to Rush Hour in the scene where Turner is talking to the elderly Asian man on the show. I’ve heard a lot of people criticize Rush Hour for it’s racist humor and this was an obvious reference and criticism of it, and I thought that it was very clever!

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