There are two kinds of writers in this country: those who write for critics, and those who write for readers. Since 1989's i, Amy Tan has distinguished herself as one of America's most talented writers of the latter sort: Her prose is clean and elegant, her characters and stories engaging.
As with all simplifications, the above statement is untrue in several respects. Many novelists write for critics and audiences alike; and since Finnegan's Wake, perhaps the apogee of the 'purely' literary novel, some of the most-praised writers are the most widely-read. Tan's novels are full of grist for the critical mills, to be sure, but what distinguishes her-both for better and for worse-from either of the above types is that her novels are written most of all for herself: she riffs on her own obsessions, and tries to bring order to her perception of the world.
The Opposite of Fate is a collection of Ms. Tan's nonfiction pieces that includes essays, speeches, and many less-formal pieces. It is occasionally exasperating, intermittently fascinating, frequently illuminating, and a treasure-trove of personal information for readers who wish to compare and contrast the author's life with those of her fictional characters.
As with all simplifications, the above statement is untrue in several respects. Many novelists write for critics and audiences alike; and since Finnegan's Wake, perhaps the apogee of the 'purely' literary novel, some of the most-praised writers are the most widely-read. Tan's novels are full of grist for the critical mills, to be sure, but what distinguishes her-both for better and for worse-from either of the above types is that her novels are written most of all for herself: she riffs on her own obsessions, and tries to bring order to her perception of the world.
The Opposite of Fate is a collection of Ms. Tan's nonfiction pieces that includes essays, speeches, and many less-formal pieces. It is occasionally exasperating, intermittently fascinating, frequently illuminating, and a treasure-trove of personal information for readers who wish to compare and contrast the author's life with those of her fictional characters.
The book is most often exasperating when Amy Tan adopts a self-amused and self-deprecating yet self-satisfied persona not dissimilar from so many humorists and tale-tellers who litter the airwaves of public radio. In "Dangerous Advice," she tells of her first experience skiing:
I know now that even the smallest of inclines looks like Instant Death to a beginner, and if I ever went back to Gstaad, I'd probably laugh to see that the run was nothing but a bunny slope, a mere pimple of a hill. But then I think: Why did it take twenty minutes by chairlift to reach the top? (p. 132)
When she dons that uniform, the careful attention to the physical, emotional, and moral universes that define her work are lost under a bland sameness. The scene is amusing enough, but there's little of Tan in there, and she is what makes her books worth reading.
Fortunately, the book spends equal time on the experiences that make her unique and worth reading. In "A Question of Fate," she writes of the murder of a dear friend; the terrifying, prophetic dreams that followed; and how this lead to her becoming a writer. Her voice here is matter-of-fact, not without humor but focused on the telling of the tale, and it is thoroughly riveting.
I know now that even the smallest of inclines looks like Instant Death to a beginner, and if I ever went back to Gstaad, I'd probably laugh to see that the run was nothing but a bunny slope, a mere pimple of a hill. But then I think: Why did it take twenty minutes by chairlift to reach the top? (p. 132)
When she dons that uniform, the careful attention to the physical, emotional, and moral universes that define her work are lost under a bland sameness. The scene is amusing enough, but there's little of Tan in there, and she is what makes her books worth reading.
Fortunately, the book spends equal time on the experiences that make her unique and worth reading. In "A Question of Fate," she writes of the murder of a dear friend; the terrifying, prophetic dreams that followed; and how this lead to her becoming a writer. Her voice here is matter-of-fact, not without humor but focused on the telling of the tale, and it is thoroughly riveting.
Many pieces are informative without being as unforgettable as that story. "Joy Luck and Hollywood" chronicles bringing Tan's first novel to life in film; while engaging, she adds only a little to the usual impression of novelists in Hollywood. Perhaps it is because she had a sensitive director and little studio interference, or because of her resolute refusal to get heavily involved in the business of movie-making, but "Joy Luck and Hollywood" is ultimately lightweight.
Of central interest to readers of Ms. Tan's novels are the many tales of her mother and their sometimes-rocky relationship. Again and again, Tan examines her mother and her mother's view of the world. The careful reader will learn which incidents in the fiction are taken from her life, and exactly how imaginative and creative she has been in telling an emotional truth through fictional circumstances, something for which Tan is not given enough attention-her books often seem so credible that it is difficult to remember they are actually fiction. The Opposite of Fate is a wonderful corrective for readers who imagine that Ms. Tan writes only of her own life and her own experience.
Of central interest to readers of Ms. Tan's novels are the many tales of her mother and their sometimes-rocky relationship. Again and again, Tan examines her mother and her mother's view of the world. The careful reader will learn which incidents in the fiction are taken from her life, and exactly how imaginative and creative she has been in telling an emotional truth through fictional circumstances, something for which Tan is not given enough attention-her books often seem so credible that it is difficult to remember they are actually fiction. The Opposite of Fate is a wonderful corrective for readers who imagine that Ms. Tan writes only of her own life and her own experience.
As in many books of collected essays, some stories and situations are repeated so frequently that they become tedious, but this may be inevitable in a book of standalone nonfiction pieces by a single writer whose primary subject is herself. Readers with an interest in Tan's work and the ghosts (both literal and metaphorical) who haunt her will find much to enjoy in this book.
