Memior: On Gold Mountain Journal 1

MaiNou Vang
Ms. Peifer
Creative Writing Hr. 3
6 Feb. 2009

In the remarkably told memoir of the See family, Lisa See tells her 100-year-old Chinese and Caucasian family history in the novel, On Gold Mountain. In the beginning, before she started the memoir, she provided to readers a glimpse of her family. Lisa mentioned her aunts, her great-great grandfather who is on the cover of the book (which implies his importance in the book), and other relatives near and far. For this memoir, it required See to be totally committed into researching her family's past, as she pointed out, and how hard it would be to recieve the actual truth in a story that existed so long ago. With what I have read so far, I can clearly see the hard and exhausting studies and research See had to endure in order to write such a compelling story.

Beginning the memoir about See's great-great-great grandfather, Fong Dun Shung, he starts his life in the fresh land of "Gold Mountain", the chinese word for America. Briefly told, Fong Dun Shung's life in America is surrounded by herbs and Chinese men but also the abusive "fan gway", the white ghosts that roam the land of Gold Mountain. Fong Dun Shung's fourth son, Fong See, comes into the memoir as a determined young man. The memoir so far is relatively revolved around the life of Fong See. Through chapters 2-5, Fong See becomes a successful working man and prospers in the hard times of America. He was at first a merchant then became his own businessman. Here in America, Fong See found what his heart had been passionate about: a challenge, an adventure, and a love. Almost 19 years older than his betrothed, he happily married a young woman from Oregon named Letticie Pruett.

In this memoir, See characterizes Fong See as a very confident and courageous man. In detail, See conveys Fong See's character through his appearance, actions, and decisions. In chapter 2, even after his countrymen told him to beware of the "fan gway" when he attempted to go sign up for papers, Fong See had just signed official papers in order to run his own business. As celebration of his official papers, Fong See went to a photographer to take pictures. On page 33, it describes what Fong See felt during the process of taking his picture: "His clothes were western. Ever since he had observed the Victorian opulence on his first trip upriver, he had sensed that his place was in there among those white men and women in their finery, and not down in the dark, cramped quarters of the "China Hold," with his countrymen and their fears." In this passage, it proves how bold Fong See must have been in his time because he was wearing what a typical white man would in America. It shows that Fong See wasn't afraid of what others would think of him.

I think that women losing their identity is a very large theme in On Gold Mountain. From what I have read so far, almost half the women mentioned in the memoir have lost their identity or somewhat familiar. Fong See's wife, Letticie, was raised by her father and five sons after her mother had died of pneumonia. When she was 8-years-old, her father had also passed away from pneemonia. With only her brothers left who eventually got married and had their own family to take care of, Letticie ran away, no longer wanting to care for her stubborn brother, sister-in-law, and their kids. When she went to go work for Fong See and later wed to him, she sent a letter to her brothers back in Oregon to tell of her news. But unfortunately, they did not meet eye to eye: "Letticie wrote her brothers o fher marriage, and recieved a terse letter back, in which her family disowned her. How could she marry a Chinese? It was disgusting, they wrote, and she was no longer their sister. She knew she would never see or hear from any of them ever again" (pg. 57). Another example of women and loss of identity is when Fong See and Letticie had made a visit to Fong See's homeland, China. Fong See had three older brothers, one died of opium and the other two got married. Both of them had married a "no-name" girl. I assume that these girls were considered no-names because they were truly poor and their parents arranged the marriages for the money. Though this book doesn't really provide information on these no-name girls, it is evident that in the past, a lot of times women were bought into marriage, prostitution and lived with no identity.

The memoir so far has been interesting. It started off slow but I soon learned to be engaged in the reading. The book provides a lot of historical information that I didn't know happened and I think that for that reason, the historical reading in this book is also helpful. Lisa See did a wonderful job in providing readers detailed descriptions to fill in the history of her great-great grandfather.

The Names: A Memoir

From the excerpt The Names: A Memoir, written by N. Scott Momaday, the author describes in traditional story-telling of his childhood home and how it came to be with an imaginative mind. From the excerpt, I chose two passages that made an impression on me.
The first passage that I was attracted to was: "The light there is of a certain kind. In the mornings and evenings it is soft and pervasive, and the earth seems to absorb it, to become enlarged with light... There is something strange and powerful in it." This passage caught my eye because it paints a vivid image in my head of how the author percieves the nature of the sun and moon. To me, it seems like the light was of an importance to him or impacted him somehow. I understand because when I see a beautiful sunrise or breathtaking moonlight on a cool night, I become enveloped by the beauty. All the colors from the sun or moon comes to life. The image of the sunlight/moonlight is powerful because that single image can make us feel.
The other passage that I enjoyed was: "...for hail is beating down upon the door, and the roar of the wind is deafening, the earth and sky are at odds, and God shudders." I was interested in this passage because the author made everything turn into life by his compelling use of personification. To me, when it rained and I was only still a child, I would imagine the rain to be of God's tears. This passage reminded me of that childhood memory because rain to him wasn't just water pouring down; there is something more meaningful and essential to rain and thunder that only your mind can speak of.

Childhood in the Park (or Outside)

I was a very young girl, maybe age 6 or 7, and I remember it being a very beautiful day. The sun was up and it was one of those perfect summer days where it was bright and sunny but not too hot. My parents, numerous siblings, and I had all went to the apple orchard. The grass was a beautiful fresh, clean green. The grass was so green that it was amazingly bright in my eyes. I remember that there was a building there also but only slightly.
My family and I went to the orchard in our big, green family van and as soon as we got to the orchard, the kids rushed out in excitement. My siblings and I raced to see who could the farthest but running to nowhere in particular as my parents followed behind. There was something about picking your own ripe apples, as if you are treating yourself to a winning prize. As I chased after my sisters (the older kids were always first), I saw that the apple trees were to my left and I could see some of the juicy, red fruits that we would soon go pick. After my parents had purchased some soda to hydrate our thirsty mouths, we all climbed onto a hay tractor and sat in anticipation, waiting for our adventure in the maze of apple trees.
Riding on the hay tractor was one of the best parts at the apple orchard. Though it wasn't hot that day, I loved feeling the subtle breeze swimming through my hair. As I sipped on the can of coke, I anxiously turned my head from side to side as the endless trees of apples passed by.
When we finally reached our desired location to start our apple-picking, the children waited for our parents' permission to start. As soon as we each grabbed a wooden bucket to place our apples in, each sibling grabbed a partner, chose a tree, and started picking their own apples. I remember climbing trees to reach certain apples, picking some from the ground as they fell, and catching some apples thrown to me from my brother while he was on the tree.
At the end of the day of apple-picking, we had a few batches of apples and ate more than enough while we were picking. We went home that day drained from the demanding physical work of apple-picking but satisfied with the amount of apples we would bring home with us.