This is like an overdue review.

Sadly, I was not given the chance to pursue Literature in my teens so eight years later, here I am with a review of one book that has been used as prose text for Literature papers.

The Joy Luck Club

“Between every mother and daughter there is a story that must be told”

These words sum up The Joy Luck Club perfectly. Amy Tan explores Chinese-American cultural translations, the power of storytelling and sacrificial love in this narrative novel. I was drawn to the four-part concept, where each part is aptly titled according to the stories following it, beginning with a parable. With titles like “Feathers from a Thousand Li Away”, “The Twenty-Six Malignant Gates”, “American Translation” and “Queen Mother of the Western Skies”, you can’t seriously tell me you won’t be roused to curiosity. When I first saw the titles, I felt like I was going to read a kungfu manual. But martial arts aside, Amy Tan certainly has skill for the written art. She manages to include mother-daughter perspectives in a different yet same light. You’ll be drawn to the mothers’ stories of their past, and while I was reading their history, I had to keep flipping and associating the present old woman with their younger self in their stories. You’ll experience the mothers’ struggles of trying to instill Chinese values yet wanting their daughters to utilize their American ways. You might feel something familiar trigger inside while reading the daughters’ perspectives. It is an alternate concept, the first section comprises of the mothers’ narration (including the protagonist, Jing-mei Woo- she’s a daughter), the second and third section are told by the daughters and the mothers return at the fourth section. Expect the mothers being lost in translation, Chinese words(with translation, of course), the daughters absorbed by American influence, stories of history, stories of culture and ultimately, stories of love. In a sad way, it reminds me of my own relationship with my late mother, especially so as the novel is centred around Jing-mei’s mother Suyuan, who has just passed away. But it brings back all the love I felt from her, and that I am grateful I had the chance to feel such great love even for a short while in my life.

One might think that only Chinese women will be able to relate to this novel. I beg to differ. As long as you have some Asian blood in you, man or woman, you’ll feel something for this piece. The conservative values, the superstitious tendencies, the rebellious retorts and parents’ tough love. How they lived with each other, how they learnt from each other and how they let go of each other. And please, I am sick of some men who scoff at their fellow males who read fiction. Knowledge is found in where we seek it. And even then, The Joy Luck Club is not purely fictional. It is based on Amy Tan’s own journey as a Chinese woman growing up in America, her autobiographical-inspired novel.

As you might have noticed, the picture I chose for this review is actually the film’s poster. The book is printed in many covers, but I liked this poster the best- it depicts the content beautifully. And I admit, I have not watched the film yet. I was still a little kid when it was released. But I will watch it soon, just to see the characters come to life.

 I have to give The Joy Luck Club 4 clocks out of 5, because it deserved my time, and hopefully deserves yours too.

We meet again. I am currently liberated from a past chain that keeps clanking at my feet. Oh, the wonders of freed walking.

I am ready for life now, so here we go!

Just to keep the juice flowing, I’ll share with you my sinful indulgence.

“How I Met Your Mother”

I did not really get started late, I’ve been watching it since last year on local channel but not on a fan-basis. More on a, “Right, it is on telly now. I have nothing to do. Watch.”

But then recently, for some reason I decided to start watching from Season 1. Streaming, no less. AND BOY! I am truly feeling the show. Ted, Robin, Lily, Marshall and Barney. They are, wait for this, waaait for this- AWESOME! They’re like F.R.I.E.N.D.S, only more edge, honest, crude and just, say it with me, LEGEND-, close your ears if you’re lactose-intolerant, -DAIRY!

I might have to continue raving about it another time, because I have to scoot now. So till then, for those of you who have not caught the bug, maybe you would like to stream it and watch the series so we can quote lines from the show (mostly from Barney, he’s irritatingly brilliant) and laugh about it, and feel clever. Haha. So how about it, catch How I Met Your Mother once you got the time!

Till then, gang!

Misery loves company. Tragedy loves poetry.

Tragedies, more often than not, plant seeds into the soft bed of our hearts and sprouts thorn-stemmed flowery words into our toxic minds. The more we write, the more poisoned our heads become and the more hurt we feel but the more pain is released.

Or poetry love tragedies? Do the dark and hidden depths of our minds crave for a tragic story to tell, therefore the fragile heart allows itself to fall victim easily to impending pain that reaches out its outstretched fingers and chokes us to the extent that we have to set free the words in our minds so that our hearts can breathe?

Tragic anger

Memory, it seems to escape me

Probably, I never knew you at all

Or maybe, you were just a figment

of my imagination

So it seems

Were you really around, or what could be the sound

that was buzzing in my ears?

‘Twas like a fly in head, devoured my mind

and left its waste inside

Or was it you really?

Lately, I begin to think about

What could be, life after a drought

‘Cos sadly,

I was left out to bleed, drained of my blood

and hung outside to dry

The sky has given up,

shrivelled like my eyes

Or was it you really?

Tragic woe

This heart has seen

so many things that the eyes won’t believe

So many nights, still not as dark

as what the conscience feels

So break away, I’ll break away

It’s time to be on our own

This soul has left the weakness open

to the prying hands

So much temptation

but it only takes the will to stand

and walk away

Walk away

and leave the life of pretence

So that’s all, gang. Welcome me back, friends; with a smile.

"lil' bug needs a name"

 Fascinating-looking thing, isn’t it? Observation:

1.  Appeared out of nowhere, almost like it just orbed in its place
2. Stayed still for a very long time, did not budge even though being photographed
3. Possible media whore, did not mind the papparazzi
4. Moved deceivingly, body shook feebly which makes you get the idea it was injured or old or cold or maybe wanted to pee
5. THEN POOF! It disappeared so fast I could not see whether it flew or jumped at a great height. Did not see any wings on it initially, so maybe it has translucent wings, or it is a trained high jumper of the insect kingdom.  Or maybe Zordon was beckoning

I do not know what in God’s name is it.

"if Playdoh is made edible"

On the subject of insects. Find out more about our favourite food and why crab sticks are way cheaper than actual crabs. Read at your own dispense. Yup. Might rattle your insides and dispense last night’s dinner. Woo. Corny Statement of the Day. Do check out the referral links in the site article, especially Snopes.com. Anyway, here’s the website. http://www.cracked.com/article/113_6-fake-foods-you-will-wish-you-didnt-have-in-your-kitchen/

"dark truth looms above Mr.O"

Think citrus fruits, especially oranges, are the ones containing the most Vitamin C? Woe is us, we all have been deceived all these years. We endure the acidic and sharp feel of the orange slices going down (and choking) our throats and into our intestines, thinking YES! This is worth the benefit of getting the most Vitamin C in our deprived body. But friends. Read this. http://www.ivannikolov.com/fitness-nutrition/articles/all/fruits-highest-in-vitaminc.html

"Shut up, I'm not a Xmas present"

Quick facts. Tavi Gavinson. 13-year-old. And already making front covers of fashion magazines and front rows of fashion shows. Ouh, that rhymed. ‘Cos I’m a wordsmith, you don’t wanna mess with. Woot woot.

Mmmkay. Just check her out. http://tavi-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com/  Or just google ‘style rookie’. She is something like a fashion prodigy? When I was 13, I sported a cool Nick Carter-inspired centre parting hairstyle, boho uniform (read: baggy shirt and skirt), long Japanese-kawaii style socks and sparkly white sneakers. Man, did I have style or did I, huh? Huh? You betcha. Even girls used to dig me. No pun intended. /cough

Alright gang, Sunday beckons. Have a good one! Taa, friends.

P.S:

"headwear inspired by Tavi Gavinson, hoho!"

"the closest I'll get to Hong Kong"

Hello friends. So I had to grab dinner. And really, my insides were all heated up from heaty meals and frizzy drinks. Then my tummy sent a message to my brain: Tang Tea House Hong Kong Cafe. Here’s the gist, gang.

"fish soup for the soul"

Sliced fish bee hoon, the cure for days of red meat and red everything. Actually the sans milk version would have been a more suitable cure, but my tastebuds were conjuring up drool to the image of “sliced fish bee hoon soup letak susu (add milk)” as my mouth voiced out the order to the waiter. In case you’re wondering, I managed to refrain from salivating. It took me great willpower to stop and take a picture of the meal when it came, and the wait was worth it. I can now share the image with you, friends. Comparing with the famous Tong Seng Fish Soup (because that’s the other place serving Halal fish soup), Tang’s soup is more flavourful. The bee hoon is more silky and extra points for the unique soup spoon. The downside? Lesser fish slices, higher price ($5 compared to Tong Seng’s $3.50) and longer waiting period. But I do recommend fish soup lovers to try it, the overall portion is good and the soup made my tummy happy.

"not extraordinary but satisfactory"

Sweet & Sour Chicken Rice. It tastes good though the chicken portion could have been more. $5! Give us the chicken! But you can taste the flavour, the vegetables taste good. I’ve had better, but this is good enough if you’re craving a sweet & sour dish.

"oh yeah, the good stuff"

What Tang Tea House is famous for, I reckon. The dumplings are superb. I mean, it’s not everyday I get to eat halal dumplings. Fresh, hot and simmering with soup on the insides. Yes, these are the Shanghai Steamed Chicken Dumplings. For $3, get a taste of Hong Kong, Halal-style. You might also want to try Sway Kow,  shrimp dumplings. Fantastic, these dumplings. Question is: How do you eat it?

"suck it good"

Don’t gobble it up, you’ll miss the good part! What you do is pick a dumpling up carefully with the chopsticks (or spoon, for the chopstick-challenged ones), gently put it to ur mouth and suck the juice out of the dumpling! Oh man oh my oh yes! Make sure you’ve sucked it REALLY dry, THEN you can gobble it up. The dumplings come with a funny-tasting soy sauce that does not go well with my tastebuds. You can try it though.

"the inconspicuous black thing"

"something's hiding...can you spot it?"

So I washed the food down with a good hot cuppa Chinese tea. It’s been long since I last had that, which used to be a staple hot drink for me. He had a cuppa cold frothy bandong which was alright. I like the place for its condiments- a tray with soy sauce, cili padi, pickled chilli plus a small box of tissues. Everything’s on the table for you, including chilli sauce and a cup full of cutleries. It was a good dinner for $15.20. “All’s well ends well in my bell(y)“. Oh. Mmm. That was the Corny Quote of the Day.

And yep, F1 Night Race‘s practice session was on television but Shanghai Steamed Chicken Dumplings stole the limelight. Taa, friends.

Rated 4 belly hoos. ya hoo hoo hoo hoo!

Tang Tea House Hong Kong Cafe is Halal-certified, open 24 hours and located at Simpang Bedok.

I have to begin writing (typing, for that matter) again to craft my words proper from my mind, because honestly, something up there is getting pretty rusty. (Does that qualify for an oxymoron?) So of course, I am expected to pull you in to my world and spin you together with me on this never-ending merry-go-round. You can’t stop if you get dizzy, afraid yet?

Mmm.

So how now, brown cow?