There is no them; there is only us

Andrea Cheng

Honeysuckle House

Front Street, 2004

Sarah Wu's best friend, Victoria, has suddenly moved away, leaving Sarah sad and confused. Ting "Tina" Liang has left her relatives and familiar world of Shanghai to join her mother in Cincinnati. The two girls overcome a host of social pressures and cultural stereotypes to form a young friendship. Along the way, Andrea Cheng invites us into the emotional lives of families with marital tensions, work-life pressures, and sibling rivalry. Her style is never dramatic, always authentic, which seemed to me to open up a space (like the "honeysuckle house" where Sarah and her friends plunge into imaginative play) to forgive oneself and one's family and to make more generous and loving choices.

For more on Andrea Cheng, click here to visit the author's website.

Don't forget to dance

Allen Say
Music for Alice
Houghton Mifflin, 2004

I can't help but hear that popular, nostalgic song by the Kinks, even though it's an odd juxtaposition to Allen Say's tribute to Alice Sumida. Alice and her husband, Mark, were to be interned along with all other Japanese-Americans during World War II, when an opportunity for farm work came along. They were prisoners, still, to the Oregon desert; but they survived and thrived. Say's bright image of their successful gladiola farm stays with us, just as it lingered in Alice's memory. As Alice reflects on her long life, she is a model of grace, dancing through her days.

She saw using her seesaw

Linda Sue Park (author)
Jean and Mou-sien Tseng (illustrators)
Seesaw Girl
Clarion, 1999

Twelve-year-old Jade Blossom did not immediately grab my interest, but with each ensuing chapter, I found her more and more compelling. Born into an elite family (her father was an advisor to the Korean king), Jade enjoys tremendous advantages, a fine house, fine clothes, good food, and servants. But, her high status comes also with responsibilities and restrictions. She must wait on the men of her family, for example. When her closest friend and confident, her cousin Willow, marries into another family and moves away, Jade realizes just how difficult it is to hew to social expectations. She is desperate to escape the walls of her family's home, but this was forbidden to girls of her status. Jade must find a way to satisfy her curiosity and ambitions without bringing shame to her family. Linda Sue Park's story offers a glimpse into pre-modern Korean society, and while much is different for children growing up in many parts of the modern world, it nevertheless offers thoughtful instruction for meeting social challenges.

Dress up, fit in

Carolyn Marsden

The Gold-Threaded Dress

Candlewick, 2002

Kun Pa's outstanding Thai cooking earned Oy's family the opportunity to move to America. That's where Oy, who is known at school as Olivia, is trying to fit in. Liliandra, the school's "queen bee," chances to see a photograph of Oy dressed in a gold-threaded, pink silk dress, looking just like a princess. Already imbued with Oy's memory and identity, the dress becomes an object of desire, contention, and humiliation. With her parent's loving support, Oy perseveres and learns to distinguish between true and false friends. The Gold-Threaded Dress is a short read, and while it is not especially subtle, it does introduce some complexity in human experience. When we first meet the character of Frankie, for example, he erroneously teases Oy for her "Chinese" appearance; at the book's end, he introduces Oy to his Chinese grandfather, Yeh-Yeh.

Enlightened One

Demi
Buddha
Henry Holt, 1996

Biographies of Prince Siddhartha who became the Buddha and founded one of the major religions of the world must inspire, and Demi's is no exception. Common anecdotes from the hagiography, like Queen Maya's dream of a white elephant, read alongside Demi's whimsical and rich illustrations. She does not shirk from the difficult parts about witnessing illness and death, which propel Siddhartha from the luxury of palace living to seek Truth in the wider world. Suffering and trials follow, but ultimately he achieves enlightenment, becoming the Buddha. Demi's biography does not end with this triumph, but continues with Buddha's teachings, and the last image of a multitude of monks accompanies a more general message to "be your own light."

Belonging

Margy Burns Knight (author)
Anne Sibley O'Brien (illustrator)
Who Belongs Here? An American Story
Tilbury, 1993

After losing his parents and fleeing from the Khmer Rouge, Nary escapes with his grandmother and an uncle first to a refugee camp in Thailand, then to the United States. Here, Nary finds food in abundance and freedom, but also ignorance and verbal slurs. One classmate calls him a "chink." Another tells him to "go home where you belong." But, who belongs and who would be left if everyone was told to leave? In between Nary's story, Margy Burns Knight weaves in broad strokes the story of immigrants from all parts of the world who came and continue to come to the United States. Nary's encounter with intolerance becomes a teaching moment, which leads to the story's happy resolution. I remember hearing those ugly words and phrases myself, and am glad to see Knight's book. The prose is, at times, somewhat heavy-handed, distancing, and didactic; but I couldn't agree more with the book's message.

More on walls

Margy Burns Knight (author)
Anne Sibley O'Brien (illustrator)
Talking Walls: The Stories Continue
Tilbury, 1996

Margy Burns Knight adds vignettes about fourteen additional walls around the world to our expanding understanding of human societies and their built environments. East and Southeast Asia are represented by Tibetan prayer wheels built into temple walls, the walls of Wat Po in Bangkok, and "Dog Wall" in Shibuya train station, honoring the loyal Hachiko. Additional interest for Asian-Americans is found in the discussion of the barrack walls at Angel Island, where Chinese immigrants were detained in the early 20th century. As in her earlier book. Knight tackles tough topics of social justice, religious difference, and freedom.

In or Out?

Margy Burns Knight (author)

Anne Sibley O'Brien (illustrator)

Talking Walls

Tilbury, 1992

Margy Burns Knight's Talking Walls begins with a poetic musing by Robert Frost: "Before I built a wall I'd ask to know/ What I was walling in or walling out...." Following that thought, Knight takes us on a journey to fourteen walls from around the world and different times in human history. The earliest are found in the caves of Lascaux, adorned with images of horses, bison, and antelope dating to more than 17,000 years ago. These images spur us to wonder about early human communities and ways of life. Prison walls held Nelson Mandela captive until February 1990, and in this case the walls ask us to confront difficult, but important questions of freedom and justice. The book ends decidedly upbeat, with the tearing down of the Berlin Wall on November 9, 1989. Asia has somewhat limited representation with just two examples:  the Great Wall of China and the relief sculpture at Mammallapuram. (A sequel includes another three. Review coming soon.)

  By design, Talking Walls cannot delve deeply into any one particular wall and its historical context. Instead, the underlying theme yokes together diverse expressions of human cultures with our common humanity. It invites further exploration and discussion, and those with an interest may inquire with Tilbury for teachers' guides.

What is the hypothesis?

George Beshore
Science in Ancient China
Franklin Watts, 1998

George Beshore's introduction to science in ancient (really, pre-modern) China seems well meaning and reasonable, but there are enough minor errors and substantial questions to make me respond unfavorably. Minor concerns include the somewhat misleading title, as the scientific discoveries and developments discussed range in date from as early as 1500 BCE (writing and calendars) to as late as 1500 CE (two-stage rockets). The "ancient" descriptive effectively erases three millennia of historical change in China. Additionally, while I can see reason for using "science" as a shorthand for science and technology, nevertheless it is difficult to square the cover image—the Great Wall—with science. The Great Wall, it seems to me, is more about engineering, political absolutism, and military defense. (To the author's credit, I did appreciate the book's wide range of subjects, which included alchemy, medicine, astronomy, and mathematics.) I was also frustrated with the inconsistency of Romanization of Chinese names and lack of attention to details. Regarding the latter, the photograph of the abacus on page 47 does not correspond to a number (the two beads on the rod 5th from left should have been "carried over" to the rod 4th from left). Finally, can anyone decipher the two characters that recur in the book? It looks like 相稽, but the second character lacks two strokes in the middle of its right half. Thus, I am unable to see the relationship between the Chinese compound and the book.
  But all these little issues aside, I think the big issue is the way Science in Ancient China oscillates between two narratives: first, that China accomplished any particular scientific feat X years before the Europeans, and second, here is how the Chinese understood such-and-such scientific phenomenon. The former is a kind of horse-racing narrative; the latter more descriptive and explanatory. There is, to my taste, too much of the horse-race. Moreover, the race ends badly for the Chinese who, at the book's end, are described as falling behind due to their cultural chauvinism. While that may be true, it seems to me there is a much richer story to be told about science in pre-modern China.

Holiday stories and fun

Nina Simonds, Leslie Swartz, & The Children's Museum, Boston (authors)

Meilo So (illustrator)

Moonbeams, Dumplings & Dragon Boats: 

A Treasury of Chinese Holiday Tales, Activities & Recipes

This kind of anthology is generally not my favorite type of book, but if you are looking for a single book about Chinese holidays, their associated folk tales, and traditions, this one is a good one. Too often, anthologies overwhelm and flatten their subject. Fortunately, rather than going with an encyclopedic approach, these authors have exercised care in their selection of topics and related stories, activities, and recipes.  

  The book is divided into four chapters according to four major holidays (counting New Year and the Lantern Festival as one). Folk tales include less common ones. I enjoyed the one of Dongfang Shuo whose cleverness saved Chang'an and makes sense of new year's show of firecrackers, fireworks, and lanterns. The tale of Jie Zitui, which involves an episode of self-sacrificing cuisine, is not for the squeamish and reminds us of how bracing folk tales really are. While I didn't try out the crafts and recipes, I can imagine that parents and teachers, as well as children, will enjoy them. The list of resources is excellent, and the guide to pronunciation is just about the best I have encountered.

Ancient China introduction

Ken Sheldon, editor
If I Were a Kid in Ancient China
Cricket Books, 2006

Co-authored by contributors to children's magazines Appleseeds, Calliope, and DIG along with staff at Cricket Books, If I Were a Kid in Ancient China is an eclectic mélange of short essays. I love the idea of the series, "If I Were a Kid in the Ancient World...," which includes volumes on Greece, Rome, and Egypt. I wish, however, that pieces in Ancient China hewed more closely to that idea of examining another time-place through the lens of a child. The introductory essay, "Made in China," is snappy, intriguing, and accompanied by attractive pictures. The next three pieces, on everyday life, dress, and toys amplify the introduction. Other essays stray into areas that are not so ancient China (foot-binding, for example, was not practiced widely until the Song dynasty; and the various religions spread along the Silk Road have distinct timelines, some of which do not overlap with ancient time frame).
  I found the fact-checking uneven, too. This volume is the first I have heard that connects the tiger design on children's costume to the visual form of the character for king, or ruler, 王 wang. The fifth Confucian virtue, knowledge, should be zhi, written 智; and I wished that the Chinese equivalent for Confucius was rendered Kongzi (孔子), instead of the latinized Chinese Kong Fuzi. Some of the illustrations implicitly mislead. An illustrations accompanying "A Visit to Chang'an" shows the Han-dynasty Mingtang 明堂, or Bright Hall, a site for state rituals. Without a caption, readers may easily think it represents Chang'an, the city. I don't know whether Chinese children really did collect ants for ant soup (p. 14), but I am reasonably certain that the stirrup was adopted by the Han Chinese from steppes peoples (p. 7).
  I am glad to have appealing and accesible non-fiction books to introduce English readers of all backgrounds to Chinese history and culture. I hope that in time, greater care will be taken to improve the quality of such books from good to excellent.

Rats!

Grace Lin

The Year of the Rat

Little, Brown, 2007

Like its predecessor (The Year of the Dog), Grace Lin's The Year of the Rat begins with the lunar new year feast and the observation that different cultures see rats differently, good and bad. For our heroine, known as Pacy to her family and Grace to others, the year brings difficult changes, most notably her best friend Melody moves to California. Grace feels isolated and alienated, and as a result behaves sometimes shamefully. Her family is there to support her, however, and their personal stories help Grace to learn empathy. The year brings surprising successes as she is affirmed as an artist, sticks up for the new Chinese kid in town (there was, for me, an interesting discourse around the word, "weird"), and begins building more meaningful relationships with the friends she had neglected.

  In the Chinese zodiac, the year of the rat begins a new cycle two years after the year of the dog. Thus, Grace is at the cusp of adolescence, and sorting through questions of self and social expectations is more complex. Lin handles these with, I can't help myself here, grace. And, of course, there's plenty of celebrations (wedding and moon festival sandwiched between lunar new year dinners) with their requisite delicious foods peppering the narrative.

China's Leonardo

If you haven't read a book by author Demi, then in your next spare moment, buy, borrow, or beg one. Her books are hands-down gorgeous. Su Dongpo, her illustrated biography of Su Shi (1036-1101) has page after page of splendid illustrations inspired by Chinese woodblock prints. Demi's prose is clear and accessible, and she doesn't try to compete with the poetry of Su Shi himself or Su's mentor Ouyang Xiu or the ageless Dao De Jing. Here, for example, is an excerpt from Su's most famous prose-poem on the Red Cliffs found 3/4 through the book:

Letting the boat go where it pleased,
we drifted over the immeasurable fields of water.
I felt a boundless exhilaration,
as though I were sailing on a void
or riding the wind
and didn't know where to stop.
I was filled with a lightness,
As though I had left the world
and were standing alone, or had sprouted wings
and were flying up to join the immortals!

 For those who wish to know more about this remarkable man, whose talents ranged from hydrological engineering to community service to the arts of poetry, calligraphy, and painting—Demi provides a solid list of sources at the book's beginning. Her use of pinyin Romanization isn't consistent (Renzong and Jentsung are both used for the same emperor, and Su Shih should really be Su Shi). There are other facts of Demi's biography that may also be debated, but my overall impression is  positive. Demi's respect for Su is authentic, and I'm so glad to see an appealing children's book about him.

Demi
Su Dongpo
Lee and Low Books, 2006

Writing pictures

Two idiomatic phrases in the Chinese culture and in the west, respectively, yoke together images and words. Chinese scholar-painters, hewing to high-minded literary ideals, liked to think of their artistic practice as "writing pictures." Thus, their paintings would be infused with poetic and calligraphic sensibility. In the west, the phrase "a picture paints a thousand words" suggests how a single image can capture and convey in an instant a human saga. Pictures have a way of reaching across cultures and generations. Here are three books that deal, in different ways, with painting and childhood.

What I liked best about Peter's Painting was that Peter's ethnicity (signaled by facial features, hair texture, etc.) was purely incidental. Peter is an everychild, who channels his creativity into paintings of a bird that flies, a snake that slithers, and a fish that swims. Finally, Peter paints a door that opens into—you guessed it—the colorful world that Peter created. The text is simple and repetitive (think Eric Carle's Brown Bear, Brown Bear).  And while the text and illustrations aren't the most memorable, it is refreshing to have a book in which a child with Asian features is treated just like anyone, and everyone else.

Before emigrating to Canada (following the Tiananmen tragedy of 1989), Song Nan Zhang experienced the ups and downs of life under Communism in the People's Republic of China, and eventually attained a professorial post in Beijing. Zhang channels his life, his optimism, and his talent into The Children of China: An Artist's Journey, which is one part autobiography, one part children's coffee-table book, and one part illustrated ethnography.  Each of these parts is compelling in its own way: Zhang's story is inspiring and hopeful, the book is filled with his colorful and sensitive paintings of children, and the children hail from many ethnicities that make up the PRC, including Tibetans, Mongolians, Kazakhs, Uygurs, and Yi. The map at the book's beginning helps us to locate the paintings geographically, and I like how easily the book replaces a mono-ethnic view of China. But because the book doesn't fit easily into any particular genre, presenting it to your children may be a challenge. It might be better consumed as a coffee table book, in a leisurely, non-linear fashion, and certainly it would be great in a classroom setting.

Zheng Zhensun and Alice Low's book about Wang Yani, A Young Painter, discusses the life and work of a talented girl from toddler-hood to early adolescence. The book is filled with photographs of Yani at work and at play, and lots of her paintings. The ones of mischievous monkeys are absolutely delightful. The book is substantial non-fiction (80 pages, including appendix, glossary, map, and index), and is thus especially rewarding for art enthusiasts. But, the many colorful paintings would be wonderful inspiration
to wider audiences old and young.

Sally Moss (author) Meredith Thomas (illustrator)

Peter's Painting

Mondo, 1995

Song Nan Zhang

The Children of China: An Artist's Journey

Tundra Books, 1995

Zheng Zhensun and Alice Low (authors)
A Young Painter: The Life and Paintings of Wang Yani—China's Extraordinary Young Artist
Scholastic, 1991

The character of characters

The Chinese written language, which uses graphs instead of an alphabet, is a perennial source of fascination, but also frustration. Here are two books that minimize the frustration and invite English-speaking children (and their adult hangers-on) into that language.


Christoph Niemann's The Pet Dragon: A Story about Adventure, Friendship, and Chinese Characters reminds me of PBS' "Wordworld" program. Niemann selects Chinese characters with strong pictographic qualities and then merges the characters with the illustration. Thus, the two bold strokes of 人 overlap the image of the book's heroine, Lin, providing the reader with a visual association for the Chinese word for "person." Lin and her pet dragon take the reader through a world populated by similar character-image associations. Some work easily. For example, 木，林，森 represent the environment made of tree, woods, and forest in which Lin and the dragon play. Others are a stretch, like 長 as a hand touching the forehead in a gesture of seeing far into the distance to the Great Wall.


Niemann doesn't pretend to teach Chinese. (The book avoids pronunciation, for example.) Rather, his aim, as expressed in his "Dear Reader" letter, is to inspire us and our kids to take a class and learn Chinese. His story may at times seem constrained, but his clear, graphic illustrations do make the learning easy and fun.


If you enjoyed The Pet Dragon, and want another book to take you a bit further, try Peggy Goldstein's Lóng is a Dragon: Chinese Writing for Children. Again, there is the ubiquitous dragon promising excitement, power, and auspiciousness, but Goldstein's book does not unfold as a story. It is, instead, instructional, and in a mere 30 pages, she covers enormous historical, cultural, and linguistic ground. Here, we see in more detail the evolution of select characters from more pictorial, archaic forms to standard, modern ones. She discusses strokes and provides stroke order for writing characters ourselves. Then, she adds pronunciation (using the pinyin Romanization system). She loses no time and begins building on these basics showing us how characters may be combined to form new ones. Place an ear 耳 near a door 門, and you get 聞, which means "to listen." Or, juxtapose fire 火 with mountain 山 to form the compound word for volcano 火山. By the book's end, Goldstein has us writing (and translating) a sentence, and appreciating the auspicious, four-character phrases that typically adorn Chinese homes, restaurants, and commercial establishments. She concludes by bidding congratulations 恭喜 to her readers for their progress in learning Chinese. Goldstein should be congratulated, too, for her fine instruction.


Christoph Niemann
The Pet Dragon: A Story about Adventure, Friendship, and Chinese Characters
Green Willow Books, 2008

Peggy Goldstein

Lóng is a Dragon: Chinese Writing for Children

China Books & Periodicals, Inc., 1991