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jojobrown's review against another edition
3.0
So I had to read this book for my Women and Gender Studies class that I'm currently in at college. Though this book didn't necessarily leave me floored, it definitely served it's purpose in trying to open up my eyes and show me a history of Japanese women that has never truly been shown before in modern american literature.
It is written from a very interesting perspective of almost-first-person but where the first person is almost a casual observer to the situation. It is essentially non-fiction work, and follows the lives of not just one women but many Japanese women from their time on the boat coming to America, to the time they are forced by the president to leave because of the war.
It struck me how for all of these women's lives they have served to work and lived to serve man after man, and those more privileged than they. There were moments that were especially shocking to me like in the chapter about babies where they spoke about the various types of births they give whether it be easy or difficult or even caused some women to die in childbirth. It was also interesting how some women loved their husbands who had lied about their occupation and wealth to get them to America to help in the fields, and others hated them with the most passionate hate I've ever seen. Rightfully so in my opinion.
But what astounded me most is the women's undying faith that things would turn around or get better as long as they did what they were supposed to do. It then really saddened me when they were all forced out of the homes and lives they had spent so long trying to build for themselves in America. It was unfortunate that they were grouped in with the terrorist Japanese of the time, and even though they had nothing to do with it, they were the ones who suffered more so.
Overall, I thought this book was done well especially for the style of writing the author chose to use. It is an important piece of work that features the lives of many voices who have gone unheard for much too long, and I'm glad it was given to us to read.
It is written from a very interesting perspective of almost-first-person but where the first person is almost a casual observer to the situation. It is essentially non-fiction work, and follows the lives of not just one women but many Japanese women from their time on the boat coming to America, to the time they are forced by the president to leave because of the war.
It struck me how for all of these women's lives they have served to work and lived to serve man after man, and those more privileged than they. There were moments that were especially shocking to me like in the chapter about babies where they spoke about the various types of births they give whether it be easy or difficult or even caused some women to die in childbirth. It was also interesting how some women loved their husbands who had lied about their occupation and wealth to get them to America to help in the fields, and others hated them with the most passionate hate I've ever seen. Rightfully so in my opinion.
But what astounded me most is the women's undying faith that things would turn around or get better as long as they did what they were supposed to do. It then really saddened me when they were all forced out of the homes and lives they had spent so long trying to build for themselves in America. It was unfortunate that they were grouped in with the terrorist Japanese of the time, and even though they had nothing to do with it, they were the ones who suffered more so.
Overall, I thought this book was done well especially for the style of writing the author chose to use. It is an important piece of work that features the lives of many voices who have gone unheard for much too long, and I'm glad it was given to us to read.
jessicaleahreads's review against another edition
2.0
i really liked the subject matter, thought the idea of the story of Japanese brides-to-order was great; however i did not like the first person plural narrative- its odd to listen to the story told as "we" did this that etc. It seemed rather superficial, though i guess it did give the opportunity to tell more sides of the story. and the ending really didn't seem like it should have been the end. I don't know that i'd read another by this author based on this book.
krichardson's review against another edition
- Strong character development? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
This was written like a long list of things that happened to some people but since it doesn't stay with anyone longer than a couple sentences, it's very impersonal.
meghaha's review against another edition
3.0
There’s a difference between knowing that a book is valuable literature, and knowing I’m not the type of reader it requires. It’s a real pity, but going off of The Buddha in the Attic it seems I can’t handle more than fifty pages narrated in first person plural without a specific character to tether myself to. First person plural is an interesting narrative device that would work for me in the form of a poem or a short story, but let it stretch uninterrupted for the length of even a novella, and I can’t manage.
The Buddha in the Attic is a compact volume, written in limpid and lyrical prose. First person plural imbues the beginning with an undeniable, heady power. Julie Otsuka introduces a chorus, a “We” of Japanese picture brides aboard a ship to America, their stranger husbands awaiting them on a distant shore. This polyphony of voices goes on to narrate all possible situations that could occur under this premise, and no particular experience is exactly the same, though a wider one can be generalized. We follow this group of women as they arrive in California; meet the husbands so unlike the ones they corresponded with and agreed to marry; settle into working for white people on farms, in the city, or in homes; come to understand their perpetual “otherness” in the US; have babies and raise children; are viewed with increasing suspicion due to the outbreak of world war two; and finally, are uprooted and displaced to concentration camps.
It’s a story that deserves to be told, and it is told very skillfully by Otsuka.
But, I personally need a more narrow focus in a book, even if the themes are broad. It probably isn’t even first person plural itself that’s the problem (if I recall correctly, I wasn’t fatigued by it in The Virgin Suicides), it’s first person plural without the offset or relief provided by following the story of one or more particular individuals. I enjoy character studies maybe more than any type of novel--stories that delve into the complexity of interior emotions and psychology of one or a handful of characters. So that is why a “We,” focused exclusively on a “We,” and not a singular “I/She/He/They” is not something I can attach myself to.
This isn’t criticism of the use of chorus or first person plural within literature. I like the narrative device of a chorus, and I enjoyed it being incorporated in a modern take. But even in its original Greek incarnation, measured, well-spaced doses work best. If we’re taking Greek drama as a guide, in which the speeches of the chorus alternate between the speeches of individual characters, The Buddha in the Attic is missing that essential counterbalance to the chorus--the individual voice.
For me, the lack of the individual or smaller-group voice(s) of a character(s) is what means this book wasn’t for me. This judgement, however, doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate what Otsuka was doing: giving voice to a whole marginalized group, giving voice to the lived experience of first-generation Japanese-Americans, during a period of history the US doesn’t do enough to acknowledge or atone for. Perhaps the “We” who narrates the group experience of these Japanese picture brides is also a way to emphasize white society's inability to see people of color as individuals instead of a homogeneous "other." Or it could be a nod to the communal versus individual dichotomy that differentiates Eastern cultures from Western ones. An emphasis on singular “I/He/She/They” rather than “We” is by its nature necessarily myopic, and individualism is by no means a virtue. I can’t help it though, that what I want out of a story as a reader is specificity, even to the point of idiosyncrasy. I feel like a removed viewpoint that encompasses and sees all sometimes sees less, because the focus isn’t there. Depth over breadth for me, always--I plead guilty to caring more for details than the big picture, with the added confession it's not something I can or would alter about myself.
But for those that can appreciate and bear the bigger picture (whose necks aren’t cramped by looking inwards, and to the ground like me), this book might be for you.
The Buddha in the Attic is a compact volume, written in limpid and lyrical prose. First person plural imbues the beginning with an undeniable, heady power. Julie Otsuka introduces a chorus, a “We” of Japanese picture brides aboard a ship to America, their stranger husbands awaiting them on a distant shore. This polyphony of voices goes on to narrate all possible situations that could occur under this premise, and no particular experience is exactly the same, though a wider one can be generalized. We follow this group of women as they arrive in California; meet the husbands so unlike the ones they corresponded with and agreed to marry; settle into working for white people on farms, in the city, or in homes; come to understand their perpetual “otherness” in the US; have babies and raise children; are viewed with increasing suspicion due to the outbreak of world war two; and finally, are uprooted and displaced to concentration camps.
It’s a story that deserves to be told, and it is told very skillfully by Otsuka.
But, I personally need a more narrow focus in a book, even if the themes are broad. It probably isn’t even first person plural itself that’s the problem (if I recall correctly, I wasn’t fatigued by it in The Virgin Suicides), it’s first person plural without the offset or relief provided by following the story of one or more particular individuals. I enjoy character studies maybe more than any type of novel--stories that delve into the complexity of interior emotions and psychology of one or a handful of characters. So that is why a “We,” focused exclusively on a “We,” and not a singular “I/She/He/They” is not something I can attach myself to.
This isn’t criticism of the use of chorus or first person plural within literature. I like the narrative device of a chorus, and I enjoyed it being incorporated in a modern take. But even in its original Greek incarnation, measured, well-spaced doses work best. If we’re taking Greek drama as a guide, in which the speeches of the chorus alternate between the speeches of individual characters, The Buddha in the Attic is missing that essential counterbalance to the chorus--the individual voice.
For me, the lack of the individual or smaller-group voice(s) of a character(s) is what means this book wasn’t for me. This judgement, however, doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate what Otsuka was doing: giving voice to a whole marginalized group, giving voice to the lived experience of first-generation Japanese-Americans, during a period of history the US doesn’t do enough to acknowledge or atone for. Perhaps the “We” who narrates the group experience of these Japanese picture brides is also a way to emphasize white society's inability to see people of color as individuals instead of a homogeneous "other." Or it could be a nod to the communal versus individual dichotomy that differentiates Eastern cultures from Western ones. An emphasis on singular “I/He/She/They” rather than “We” is by its nature necessarily myopic, and individualism is by no means a virtue. I can’t help it though, that what I want out of a story as a reader is specificity, even to the point of idiosyncrasy. I feel like a removed viewpoint that encompasses and sees all sometimes sees less, because the focus isn’t there. Depth over breadth for me, always--I plead guilty to caring more for details than the big picture, with the added confession it's not something I can or would alter about myself.
But for those that can appreciate and bear the bigger picture (whose necks aren’t cramped by looking inwards, and to the ground like me), this book might be for you.
belwood303's review against another edition
3.0
Unusual. A hundred questions. A thousand lives. A written cadence.
cupcake10101's review against another edition
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
3.0
nfrsbmschmck's review against another edition
2.0
unsuccessful use of 1st/Plural that didn’t have any consistency with how the conceit actually functioned. why the author decided to use We but then tell a story of Shes is baffling and seems to miss the whole power of the group voice. this is too individualized to create any group sense, so basically just feels like a long list of dull, anonymous moments.