Amy Tan's books are truly remarkable for their great character development and the profound wisdom they impart.

Each character is crafted with such细腻 and care that they come alive on the pages, as if they are real people with their own unique personalities, dreams, and flaws.

The relationships between the characters are also explored in great depth, with multiple layers that add complexity and richness to the stories.

When you embark on a binge read of several of her books, it feels like you are visiting an old friend.

You become so invested in the lives of the characters that you laugh with them, cry with them, and learn from their experiences.

Amy Tan has a gift for creating stories that are both engaging and thought-provoking, and her books are a testament to her talent as a writer.

Whether you are a long-time fan or a new reader, her works are sure to leave a lasting impression.

Sometimes I feel as if I'm a pair of eyes and ears, constantly on the lookout, trying to stay safe and make sense of the chaos around me. I'm acutely aware of what to avoid and what to worry about. It's like being one of those kids who grow up with the sound of gunfire echoing in the background. I don't desire pain. I don't want to die. And I definitely don't want to witness the people around me perish. But deep inside, I'm lost. I have no clue where I belong or what I truly want. If there's anything I wish for, it's to understand what it's possible to want.

The Bonesetter's Daughter once again delves into the complex relationship between mothers and daughters. Amy Tan, as is her style, focuses on the hidden histories of women who fought to survive in war-torn China and sought refuge in the promise of freedom. Ruth Young, a West Coast ghostwriter, starts to notice her mother's memory lapses and unusual behaviors. The doctor suspects dementia, and suddenly, the future is filled with uncertainties and options to consider. LuLing gives her daughter a stack of papers, carefully written in Chinese script, instructing her to read them immediately. However, Ruth dismisses the task, much like LuLing did when she was younger and ignored her own mother's story. Will the consequences of such negligence be as severe today as they were back then?

Amy Tan was way ahead of the curve when it came to exploring generational trauma and how the maternal psyche passes on its dilemmas like a legacy to the next generation. In this novel, she revisits this theme, unraveling the tragic web of genealogical ignorance through the gradual loss of memory. Her portrayal of dementia is heartbreakingly accurate, capturing the nuanced paranoia, the distinct difference between distant memories and the turmoil of recent events, and beneath it all, the desperate attempt to put things in order, despite a daughter's fearful resistance. She has truly done an excellent job with this book.

At the beginning of Amy Tan's fourth novel, two packets of papers written in Chinese calligraphy fall into the hands of Ruth Young.

One bundle is titled Things I Know Are True and the other, Things I Must Not Forget. The author? That would be the protagonist's mother, LuLing, who has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. In these documents, the elderly matriarch, born in China in 1916, has set down a record of her birth and family history, determined to keep the facts from vanishing as her mind deteriorates.

Ruth, a San Francisco career woman who makes her living by ghostwriting self-help books, has little idea of her mother's past or true identity. What's more, their relationship has tended to be an angry one. Still, Ruth recognizes the onset of LuLing's decline, along with her own remorse over past rancor, and hires a translator to decipher the packets. She also resolves to "ask her mother to tell her about her life. For once, she would ask. She would listen. She would sit down and not be in a hurry or have anything else to do."

Framed at either end by Ruth's chapters, the central portion of The Bonesetter's Daughter takes place in China in the remote, mountainous region where anthropologists discovered Peking Man in the 1920s. Here, superstition and tradition rule over a succession of tiny villages. And here, LuLing grows up under the watchful eye of her hideously scarred nursemaid, Precious Auntie. As she makes clear, it's not an enviable setting: "I noticed the ripe stench of a pig pasture, the pockmarked land dug up by dragon-bone dream-seekers, the holes in the walls, the mud by the wells, the dustiness of the unpaved roads. I saw how all the women we passed, young and old, had the same bland face, sleepy eyes that were mirrors of their sleepy minds." Nor is rural isolation the worst of it. LuLing's family, a clan of ink makers, believes itself cursed by its connection to a local doctor, who cooks up his potions and remedies from human bones. And indeed, a great deal of bad luck befalls the narrator and her sister GaoLing before they can finally engineer their escape from China. Along the way, familial squabbles erupt around every corner, particularly among mothers, daughters, and sisters. And as she did in her earlier The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan uses these conflicts to explore the intricate dynamic that exists between first-generation Americans and their immigrant elders.

Rating: 3.5 Stars

Amy Tan is truly gifted when it comes to writing about the mother and daughter experience. Her works transcend race and culture, and "The Bonesetter's Daughter" is no exception. This novel delves into the complex relationship between a daughter and her mother, as the daughter comes to terms with her mother's illness and past. Just like in "The Joy Luck Club", the relationship between Ruth and her mother LuLing is fraught with difficulties.

The main reason for this is the cultural divide. LuLing grew up in China, while Ruth was raised in America. LuLing has held on to many aspects of her Chinese culture, even after living in the US for almost 50 years. She doesn't speak or understand English well and is secretive about her past. All these factors contribute to a strained relationship between the two, leaving both feeling unappreciated and misunderstood.

The story is told from two perspectives. The first-person point of view, when LuLing describes her experiences in China, is particularly captivating. Tan's use of imagery and language is powerful, painting a vivid picture of what LuLing went through and also incorporating the myths and beliefs of Chinese culture. However, one major drawback of the story is its similarity to "The Joy Luck Club". The characters and circumstances of Ruth and LuLing could easily be swapped with those of any of the mother-daughter pairs in the earlier novel, making the theme and relationship seem recycled and the outcome predictable.

There has also been criticism online that Tan uses stereotypes in her writing. While I noticed this in the novel, it could be because I was specifically looking for it. Overall, "The Bonesetter's Daughter" is highly recommended, but with a precaution. If you have already read "The Joy Luck Club" or other works by Tan, the style and formula may be too familiar, taking away some of the impact of the story.

Pros: Imagery, Storyline, Characters
Cons: Formula, Stereotypes, Predictable

Overall Recommendation:

Highly recommended with a precaution: If you have read The Joy Luck Club (or maybe any of her others works) the style and formula are easy noticeable and takes away some of the impact of the story.

The story of three women from the same family, told by them. Amy Tan takes us from a China full of superstitions and with supernatural hues where reality and spirits coexist, until ending in the present world. But above all, it is the story of a mother and her daughter, and the daughter's discovery of the true mother hidden behind that facade. The conflict between them and the final peace.

We can see two very distinct parts which are the daughter's story and the rest of the novel. It seems more real, more personal, as if Amy Tan were telling us her own experiences. Experiences that we can recognize as our own and identify with many of the situations presented. With many of the feelings of that daughter in the face of a strong and somewhat distant mother. At those moments, the author seems to be carried away by her own feelings and that is noticeable. She manages to reach us deeply. The narrative is enriched and gains depth. Something that she cannot achieve with the rest of the story which is told with a kind of detachment, I don't know if it's because of the narrator's own personality or because it's not entirely coincident with the author of the book herself.

Perhaps it is too long at some moments, but its reading is fully recommended. A novel that, through the account of the lives of those women, reveals a background full of strong feelings that surface at certain moments. A story of mother-daughter relationships more than the narration of some events.

Love, love, love Amy Tan.

She is truly an amazing storyteller who delves deep into the themes of generational differences, misunderstandings, and hidden pasts.

Her works are a captivating exploration of these complex issues, which are presented in a way that is both engaging and thought-provoking.

Although there are sad elements within the story, the book as a whole is not depressing at all.

On the contrary, Tan has the remarkable ability to bring out the beauty and strength within the characters and their experiences.

Moreover, she provides an amazing view of Chinese culture and life in China's recent history.

Through her vivid descriptions and detailed accounts, readers are able to gain a deeper understanding and appreciation of this rich and diverse culture.

Amy Tan's books are a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the human condition and the impact of culture and history on our lives.

Her storytelling prowess and unique perspective make her one of the most talented and influential authors of our time.

This book truly engaged me on multiple levels.

It delved into family history, bringing to light a plethora of memories - some painful, others joyous, and many of the everyday variety. The account of losing one's beloved mother to Alzheimer's was both heart-wrenching and poignant. Additionally, the cultural insights provided were truly fascinating.

It made me realize the universality of human experience, regardless of race or culture. This is a particularly timely read for me as, in just a few weeks, I have plans to visit three of my Mom's nine remaining siblings. They live in rural Wisconsin and are all in their 90's.

I have the utmost respect for memories, history, and culture. I am certain that my Mom will be with me in spirit. She is my "Precious Auntie" and my forever Mom.

This book has not only entertained me but also made me reflect deeply on my own family and the importance of preserving our shared history and memories.

Amy Tan is truly outstanding when it comes to depicting mother and daughter relationships, and she further explores this theme in this captivating multi-generational story. The narrative focuses on a highly successful Chinese-American woman who resides in San Francisco and her often tumultuous connection with her mother. What makes this story particularly engaging is the detailed exploration of her mother's back story, which unfolds as she grew up in China. It serves as the highlight of the entire tale.

I had not delved into Tan's work for a considerable number of years. However, I am extremely glad that I made the decision to return and rediscover her literary brilliance.

Moreover, this book also makes for a remarkable audiobook experience. Amy Tan herself narrates, along with the talented actress Joan Chen. Their combined efforts bring the story to life in a whole new and immersive way, allowing the listeners to truly connect with the characters and their emotions.

I just didn't enjoy this as much as Amy Tan's other books.

Her plot development, which often revolves around mother-daughter issues, has become almost a formula. It seems a bit predictable at times.

However, she does do a credible job describing life in China in the last century. Through her vivid descriptions, I came away with a deeper understanding of that culture.

I just never thought of Amy Tan as the Maeve Binchy of Asian writing. This is not meant to be a criticism of Maeve Binchy, an author whose well-written books I think are fun to read.

It's just that I get the impression that she keeps writing the same story, just changing the locations a little and adding nuances to the characters. And that is how I am beginning to feel about Amy Tan.

Maybe it's time for her to break out of this pattern and explore new themes and storylines to keep her readers engaged and excited.

Overall, while I still appreciate Amy Tan's talent as a writer, this particular book didn't quite live up to my expectations.

2.5. Passable, but not a lot more.

I deliberately selected something light, thinking it would offer an easy and enjoyable read. However, I didn't anticipate the corresponding boredom that would follow.

Parts 1 and 3 of the work were highly formulaic. They followed a predictable pattern that made it truly snoozable. The lack of originality and innovation in these sections was quite disappointing.

Part 2, which was set in pre-War China, was a bit more interesting. The setting added a certain charm and historical context that piqued my curiosity to some extent. Nevertheless, it still suffered from being cliched. The storylines and character developments in this part were not particularly unique or engaging.

Overall, I have to say that this piece wasn't really worthy of the reading time I invested in it. It failed to capture my attention and failed to offer anything truly remarkable or thought-provoking. It was a passable read, but nothing more than that.

3.5 stars

I have always been a great admirer of Amy Tan's novels. One of the recurring themes in her works is the complex and often tense relationship between mothers and daughters. However, I don't mean this in a negative or explosive sense. Instead, her stories are typically centered around the concepts of love, understanding, and ultimately, forgiveness.

In this particular novel, the contrast between the strict Asian culture and the Americanized child creates a palpable rift that demands to be bridged. And Amy Tan accomplishes this task with great finesse and beauty.

Her stories may not be fast-paced, but for me, they have the power to evoke deep feelings of compassion. I believe the author is acutely aware that many of us carry the invisible scars of our childhoods. Using this as a starting point, she weaves a captivating tale that explores themes such as tradition, kindness, tough love, forgiveness, compassion, change, and most importantly, understanding. Through her vivid characters and engaging narrative, Tan invites us to reflect on our own relationships and the importance of finding common ground and extending grace to one another.

This is a profound chronicle that spans three generations of a Chinese family, delving deep into the theme of voicelessness. It meticulously details how these women gradually lost their voices, the complex reasons behind their continued silence, and their valiant attempts to reclaim it. In this book, the concept of voice holds both literal and figurative meanings. It encompasses standing up for oneself, speaking the unadulterated truth, seeking acknowledgment and understanding, and not being silenced or censored. The forces that rob these women of their voices can be diverse, including cultural norms, personal violations such as the invasion of one's secrets or body, cross-cultural conflicts as seen when the youngest finds herself in a relationship with a man who already has two Caucasian children, and even professional constraints like those faced by ghostwriters who choose to give voice to others' ideas but not their own.

Notably, this book also weaves in the presence of ghosts from the past, who either haunt us with their curses or benevolently offer advice regarding our present choices. Serendipitously, reading this book made me simultaneously proud of my part-Chinese heritage and saddened by the aspects of Chinese culture, especially its writing and calligraphy, that elude my understanding. However, in the end, it serves as a powerful inspiration for the reader to speak out, express appreciation to relatives, assert themselves in relationships, and rediscover the paths of their ancestors. Although it may sound trite, this book was an incredibly moving and thought-provoking read for me, causing me to question my own experiences, especially during its more challenging passages.

On a general note, it is high time we stopped titling books with phrases like The Blank's Daughter. From the abortionist to the gravedigger to the bonesetter, I am weary of women being defined solely by the occupation of their father. What, then, should I title my memoir? The Senior Health-care Analyst's Daughter? Hmm.... Regardless, after Joy Luck Club, this is undoubtedly Tan's most powerful novel. Kudos!

Some passages that truly struck a chord include a lovely discussion on someone's favorite word, vapors (pages 20 - 21), which is unfortunately too long for me to quote here but is executed with great thoughtfulness. Another poignant passage is, "A lot of her [mother's] admonitions had to do with not showing what you really felt about all sorts of things: hope, disappointment, and especially love. The less you showed, the more you meant" (page 92). In my own mother's case, it was about the less you showed, the more you were in control of your feelings, your impact on others, and the situation at hand – a misguided philosophy that took me years to unlearn, although I know it is futile to convince my mom of the error in her affective formula. Additionally, the line, "'You can have pride in what you do each day, [. . .] but not arrogance in what you were born with'" (page 250), holds great wisdom. And lastly, "It broke her heart to see her mother trying so hard, being so conscientious, determined to be valuable. Making her mother happy would have been easy all along. LuLing simply wanted to be essential, as a mother should be" (page 301), is a touching and deeply relatable sentiment.