By Susan Faust
©2004 San Francisco Chronicle
August 29, 2004
Given the sizable Chinese American population (20 percent in San Francisco,
according to the 2002 census), children's books have a lot of catching up to do.
Several new books reflect the Chinese American experience, good and bad.
What is considered the first Chinese American food? The fortune cookie,
according to Fortune Cookie Fortunes by Grace Lin (Knopf; 32 pages; $15.95; ages
5-8). But just how this playful sweet came to be is up for debate. (An
informative afterword places the popular cookie and its contents in cultural and
historical context.)
The setup is simple enough: After dessert at a Chinese restaurant, one
curious girl does some research to see if her family's fortunes come true. (This
character made her first appearance in Lin's "Dim Sum for Everyone.")
She finds out that each person makes his or her own fortune come true. For
example, Ma-Ma's fortune reads, "Attention and care will make great things
happen." She is then shown working away in her lush vegetable garden. Too
bad that the logic police are off duty when it comes to the dad's fortune.
Ba-Ba's reads, "Your moods are contagious." And what is his mood?
Sleepiness. More a condition than a mood in my book. Still, this is a fun-filled
book that invites kids to write their own fortunes and futures.
Lin uses the same crisp, bright, patterned art for One Is a Drummer: A Book
of Numbers by Roseanne Thong (Chronicle; 32 pages; $14.95; ages 4-8). In this
bouncy, rhyming concept book, an enthusiastic Chinese American girl (who first
appeared in "Round Is a Mooncake") presents numbers from one to 10.
One is a dragon boat. There are two wall greetings ("Luck" and
"Fortune"), three kinds of dim sum, four friends playing mahjong, five
fish balls on a stick and so on in a charming East-West blend. (Some kids are
seen eating a hot dog, an ice cream cone, a wedge of watermelon.) But something
is missing. How about putting numerals somewhere on the pages, nice and clear?
The preschool set could then have fun with counting Asian fare and recognizing
numbers, which would have made the multicultural book more multipurpose.
In the history department comes Henry and the Kite Dragon by Bruce Edward
Hall and illustrated by William Low (Philomel; 40 pages; $15.99; ages 4-up).
Eight-year-old Henry Chu recounts a misunderstanding between the kids from
Chinatown and the kids from Little Italy. At issue: control of a nearby park and
the skies. (Mr. Chin's kite creations scare some local pigeons and take heavy
fire from some rocks.) Based on family stories that date back to New York City
in the '20s, this tale is lengthy with episodes, weighty in theme and lofty in
resolution. Hall focuses on prejudice and perseverance, apology and
accommodation.
Low's painterly art establishes time, place and cultural detail. The kites
are magical and the street life gritty. Granted, it is hard to hear a racial
slur thrown out, but in the end, it is heartening to see how understanding
finally breaks out.
Completely up-to-date in tone and telling is Ruby Lu, Brave and True by
Lenore Look (Atheneum; 106 pages; $15.95; ages 6-10), an easy-to-read chapter
book with lots of spunk . It couldn't be otherwise with 8-year-old Ruby center
stage. She is outrageous, outspoken, tender, talented and generous, too.
Scratchy black-and-white line drawings break up the pages as Look describes how
Ruby reacts to a new baby brother, performs magic tricks, attends Chinese school
on Saturdays and gets ready to share her room with an immigrant cousin fresh off
the plane from China. And then there is the uproarious (and possibly upsetting
to parents) incident when Ruby drives the car to Chinese school, mistakenly
parking in the place reserved for the principal.
The whole package is perfect for its target audience, with big print,
sprinklings of spot art, a flip-book component, a glossary and punctuation guide
and likable lead character. The story isn't always as smooth as Ruby's sleight
of hand, but that doesn't really detract from overall appeal.
A more sober story is found in Honeysuckle House by Andrea Cheng (Front
Street; 136 pages; $16.95; ages 10-up). In this quiet study of two girls, Cheng
explores the universal difficulties of fitting in -- at school, at home, in the
community. Barriers include class, cultural differences and expectations,
immigrant status and gender.
In alternating chapters, two 10-year-olds describe their separate lives and
their coming together. Sarah is Chinese American and lives in Cincinnati. Her
dad constantly travels for business, and her mom lovingly holds down the
household. Her young brother misses Dad terribly, and vice versa. Her best
friend and neighbor, Victoria, moves out with no notice and no forwarding
address. Enter Ting, a new kid in the class who has just arrived from Shanghai
and is in serious need of help. And who better to help, according to their
teacher, than Sarah? Never mind that she speaks not a word of Chinese; looking
alike is what seems to count.
Cheng deftly lets the girls reveal their personal challenges -- name- calling
at school, being both Chinese and American, finding Victoria and forging real
friendship from forced association. She also seamlessly alludes to the adults'
challenges -- getting a green card, learning English, finding entry-level jobs
and squaring dreams with daily demands. Many moments feel real -- from secret
meetings under the honeysuckle to a foray into the abandoned house next door, in
which the suspense is palpable. Add in little lies, acts of bravery, family
tussles and tensions, and a surprise or two. From this natural portrayal of
childhood, Cheng reveals important truths about being true to friends, family
and self.
Faust, a librarian at San Francisco's Katherine Delmar Burke School, is
chair of the 2004 Newberry Award Committee.