Last week, I posted a review by the same author and as mentioned at the end of it, I was looking forward to reading the author’s back catalogue as it seems I’ve been late to the party. As you can see, I couldn’t resist picking up another of her books because the subject matter in Digging To America piqued my interest.

In this story, two families happen to meet at the airport on the day that they both adopt a baby from Korea. They decide to stay in touch and quickly form a friendship that not only allows the two girls to meet up regularly but give their parents an opportunity to share their experiences as adoptive parents.

The story focuses on the two girls’ growing up in a foreign country seen through the lens of their family members. There is the inevitable tendency to compare when and why one of the girls achieves a milestone first but what made this story so compelling is the gradual revelation of the broader picture offered by their different family histories, one is of Iranian origin and the other American. The complexities of their cultural backgrounds and world views add a lively addition to their friendship and affection.

Anne Tyler writes about real people, each of the characters depicted with their strengths, flaws and insecurities. It isn’t essentially about the girls and their experience of growing up in America but what it means to create a family and make thew best of it as you can. Further there is a fascinating exploration about what it means to adopt a child you have not carried in your own womb.

“When Bitsy looked back on Jin-Ho’s arrival, it didn’t seem like a first meeting. It seemed that Jin-Ho had been traveling toward them all along and Bitsy’s barrenness had been part of the plan, foreordained so that they could have their true daughter.”

The two adopted girls bind the families together through an annual get together to commemorate their arrival day. It becomes a custom that they have created beyond religious meaning and to which they all look forward to.

If I had to pick my favourite character it would have to be Maryam, the Iranian grandmother, who despite thirty-five years in America still feels like an outsider.


‘You start to believe that your life is defined by your foreignness. You think everything would be different if only you belonged. ‘If only I were back home,’ you say, ‘and you forget that you wouldn’t belong there either, after all these years. It wouldn’t be home at all anymore.’


Maryam wonders about the meaning of ‘home’ and how places can change a person and the meaning of belonging. The book is full of these engaging thoughts and dialogues, moments of ordinary life that the author is able to convey in a gripping way. Here is an example of an emotional paragraph where Maryam describes the memories of her late husband who died of cancer.

‘I thought, if only I could mourn the man I first knew. But instead there were the more recent versions, the sick one then the sicker one and then the one who was so cross and hated me for disturbing him with pills and food and fluids, and finally the faraway, sleepy one who in fact was not there at all. I thought, I wish I had been aware of the day he really died – the day his real self died. That was the day I should have grieved most deeply.’

Due to the two families’ pressure, Maryam and Dave, Bitsy’s father, attempt to date and spend time together after the latter’s wife dies of cancer as well. Both are kind, head-strong characters and the idea of getting the two families even closer together through a possible union between them is another theme that Tyler introduces with wit and sensitivity. I won’t give away the plot of course because it is delightful and finishes on a perfect note with just as I would have imagined Maryam acting in the end.

Needless to say, I look forward to picking up another novel by Anne Tyler soon.



The Book in three words: fun, moving and insightful

I fully expected to hate this book. I don't know why, but something about the subject matter (race relations, Korean adoptees, immigrants) annoyed me and I thought, "Here we go again. Another book meant to illustrate some point about race or adoption, or what-have-you and I will learn a moral or something."

But, unexpectedly, I enjoyed it entirely because of the characters. The saving character was definitely Maryam, the Iranian grandmother. Her thoughts I could most relate with (down to the annoyance at always being assumed foreign, or feeling like an outsider). The other chapter I really enjoyed was the one from Jin-Ho's (one of the Korean adoptees) POV. I couldn't really stand Bitsy, Jin-Ho's unintentionally offensive and bossy mom (but certainly well-meaning), but near the end, grew to find her tolerable as well.

My favorite part was learning more about the Iranian culture. The Iranian families felt authentic and real. One of Maryam's memories of dragging their mattresses onto the rooftops in Tehran reminded me of Between Two Worlds by Zainab Salbi, even though she was Iraqi. I recall that she included a very similar story in her memoir.

As I was reading this book, even when well into it, when almost done and racing to the end, I came to a section that made me judge it as uneven.

Then I finished. For a minute I just sat there. Then I burst into sobs.

I had just been complaining the other day that I couldn't understand catharsis from classic tragedy, but this is different. What is it about Anne Tyler's books?

It's been a while since I've read one. The Amateur Marriage hit me pretty hard.

In this book, two families who are both adopting Korean babies meet and their destinies become intertwined. One family consists of white upper-middle-class Americans and the other of Iranian-Americans. The focus is on several of the characters, but especially on Maryam, a late-middle-aged adoptive grandmother from the Iranian family. She's been in this country 39 years, but typically people whom she meets will start the conversation by asking how long she's been here. She sees her feelings of alienation and difference through the lens of her foreignness, and that's poignantly compared and contrasted with the experiences of the others. Anne Tyler's particular gift is to shine the spotlight on her characters and make them real.

This week I've had two narrative experiences about badly misunderstood women. I saw the movie Delores Claiborne (based on the Stephen King book, which I haven't read); in it, Kathy Bates plays a woman everyone thinks is a bitch and a murderer, too. (She's married to a wife abuser. Author Stephen King and actor David Strathairn each do excellent abusive husbands.) In Digging to America, Maryam is thought to be an imperious and haughty woman. Her daughter-in-law's family and even her son refer to her as "Khanom:" "Madame." Her son himself speaks of her in a critical manner. As the plot progresses, harsher attitudes emerge.

From inside, the tension may be risk versus safety, but the dimension of interest to me here is that of judgment versus mercy. With that, I'm back to my speculations about classical tragedy and my difficulty with classical tragedy as a source of catharsis.

My hunch is that the catharsis associated with classical tragedy has something to do with group, not individual, catharsis. For all that we can imagine seeing the world only through our individualism, that individualism is a very late development. I'm speculating that the catharsis associated with classical tragedy has to do with purging some human but undesirable element from the group. The group commiserates with the suffering of the "purgee" but nevertheless is on board with the judgment that the problem trait must go.

For me, though, catharsis comes through the recognition that the person with the trait viewed externally as bad, ultimately is not bad. That conclusion was mistaken. Through some change that takes place in both the one being targeted and those who were passing judgment, a new and even better equilibrium is reached, one that doesn't require anyone to be sacrificed.

I'm on some new territory here, but I think that is getting closer to what I mean by a redemptive story and one that results in catharsis!

It ain't easy being human. But joy is possible.

The only reason I stayed with this book is because I had to. It was a snoozer. I have read Tyler before and although her books are not necessarily riveting portraits of family life, usually they are more real and affecting.

I've spoken to a few of the women from book club, and on the whole, they seem to agree--though a couple say they loved it. I'll try to contain my harsh criticism...

If I ever have insomnia, I will pull this out instead of hitting the Tylenol PMs.

جومپا لاهیریِ دست‌چندم؛ دو ستاره‌ی «ایت واز اوکی». چون واقعن که هیچ نکته‌ی به‌یادموندنی‌ای نداشت.

I didn't expect to like this book as much as I did. It's quieter, more subtle writing, but the layers of character are rich -- more so than one expects from the early stereotypes. I actually groaned at the conclusion, wanting more of the story, and it has been a long while since I've had that feeling for a book I didn't freely choose for myself.


audiobook note: perfect narration by Blair Brown

first read 5/08 (audio)
re-read 1/09

The appearance of a new novel by Anne Tyler is like the arrival of an old friend. And if you have an old friend, you know that such meetings don't always deliver anything new. It's mostly updates, the pleasure of reciting inside jokes, revisiting familiar legends and only then, possibly, the promise of some fresh development. But who's peevish enough to complain about the limits of a reunion? Everyone who has a favorite Tyler novel (mine's Saint Maybe) jumps on the latest one, in part, to rekindle that connection with this warmhearted author who can appreciate the humor and sadness of our idiosyncrasies. If there's something naggingly small about her range (Baltimore, quirky family, intricate meals), we're willing to make allowances. After all, who can keep Mr. Darcy and Mr. Knightley straight? Didn't Thoreau claim, "I have traveled much in Concord"? And Baltimore is way bigger than Concord.

But now it's time to put that defensiveness aside. With her 17th novel, Tyler has delivered something startlingly fresh while retaining everything we love about her work. Digging to America delivers the blithely insular, suburban Baltimore characters we expect, but it's a bait-and-switch move. In a daring expansion of Tyler's range, the people who are really at the heart of this novel come from Korea, China and Iran. Tyler was married to Iranian-born psychiatrist Taghi Mohammad Modarressi from 1963 until his death in 1997. Although she keeps her personal life closely guarded, her exposure to Iranian culture through him must have animated the spirit of this novel. Her success at portraying culture clash and the complex longings and resentments of those new to America confirms what we knew, or should have known, all along: There's nothing small about Tyler's world, nothing precious about her attention to the hopes and fears of ordinary people.

The novel opens at the Baltimore airport in 1997. Brad and Bitsy Donaldson and an entourage of camera-wielding friends and relations are awaiting the arrival of their adopted baby daughter from Korea. Off to the side of this raucous group stand "people no one had noticed before . . . a youngish couple, foreign-looking, olive-skinned and attractive." It turns out that Sami and Ziba Yazdam are also waiting for an adopted baby daughter from Korea, and when the Donaldsons become aware of this happy coincidence, they introduce themselves to the shy Iranian-American couple. Two weeks later, Bitsy tracks Ziba down to see how things are going. A few months after that, Bitsy invites the Yazdams to the Donaldsons' annual leaf-raking supper. The two couples become fast friends, and each year they throw an enormous party to celebrate their daughters' arrival in the States. These annual get-togethers -- complete with competing meals, the original airport video and a theme song ("She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain") -- serve as the novel's structure, our chance to check in on the development of two very different families over the years.

Bitsy is a marvelous creation: the tireless, culturally sensitive super-mom (cloth diapers, organic food, anything expensive and inconvenient). Sami quietly resents her advice and critique ("You put your daughter in a playpen?"), but his wife, Ziba, eager to do the right thing, to blend in, to be American, is mesmerized by her energetic opinions: "You notice I'm wearing black and white," Bitsy tells Ziba. "That's because babies don't see colors. Only black and white. I've worn nothing but black and white from the day that Jin-Ho arrived."

While the Yazdams immediately change their daughter's name from Sooki to Susan, the Donaldsons couldn't be more pleased with their daughter's chic foreignness and do everything they can to celebrate it. They read her only Korean folk tales. They dress her in a kimono with a pointed hat and little embroidered shoes. "You might want to give her soy milk," Bitsy advises Ziba. "Soy is more culturally appropriate." Tyler's subtle wit gets these ironies just right: The Iranian immigrants must wrestle with when to assimilate, when to resist, while their white-bread friends carry on about how much they love ethnicity. She's particularly good at conveying the wry humor these Iranian-Americans use to endure numerous little slights from their well-intentioned but condescending white neighbors.

Sami's mother, Maryam, finds the Donaldsons' enthusiasm for all things foreign particularly annoying. Hearing that her son and daughter-in-law plan to cook a big Iranian meal at the next annual Arrival Party, she thinks, "Why should they have to put on these ethnic demonstrations? Let the Donaldsons go to the Smithsonian for that!" An American citizen for 31 years, Maryam grew up and studied in Iran until her wealthy family whisked her out of the country when she joined a group of radical students who opposed the shah. Now widowed, in her sixties, she's a model of conservative self-sufficiency, working part-time at a local school and caring for her son's adopted daughter, determined never to interfere or cling. She's "happy to be on her own, grateful for the quietness and neatness of her life."

She's not the flashiest or funniest character in this novel, by far, but gradually she becomes its focus, and she's fascinating because Tyler catches all the subtle contradictions buried beneath her stoic exterior. (There's something very reminiscent of Anita Brookner's novels here.) Maryam is troubled by her son's satiric cracks about Americans: "So instantaneously chummy they are, so 'Hello, I love you,' so 'How do you do, let me tell you my marital problems.' " Sami's friends think he's hilarious, but he sounds disturbingly ungrateful to her: "Where would you be without this country?" she asks him. "You take it for granted, is the problem." And yet, Maryam complains, "Americans are all larger than life. You think if you keep company with them you will be larger too, but then you see that they're making you shrink; they're expanding and edging you out."

Still, she can't shake that desire to belong, to overcome her state of confirmed "outsiderness." Even after 31 years, she confesses, "It's a lot of work, being foreign." And here is Tyler's most skillful move: Without in any way diminishing the barriers of culture or discounting the offenses and disappointments on all sides, she manages to universalize Maryam's plight, to demonstrate that "we all think the others belong more." Maryam must consider that her sense of dislocation is a side effect not just of being an immigrant but of being human. She realizes, finally, how stubbornly she's clung to her outsiderness, reinforced it and emphasized it at the cost of her own happiness. Almost any other novelist who could reach this state of exquisite despair would leave us there, but don't worry: We're in Tyler's Baltimore, which, it turns out, is big enough to embrace us all.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/...

As usual, Anne Tyler has written a book that I have fallen in love with. Like all her novels, this one takes place in Baltimore. We begin at an airport where a HUGE family (the Donaldsons) are awaiting the arrival of their adopted Korean daughter. However, off to the side is an Iranian-American couple and their mother-in-law ALSO awaiting a baby from Korea. Soon, these 2 families become great friends, having an 'Arrival Day' Party every year to celebrate the day they both received their daughters. The families intermingle, share joys and sorrows and the novel is ultimately about family and culture. One family is Iranian, with a Korean daughter. The other family is American with daughters from Korea and China. There are many extended family members throughout the book, as well as sprinklings of Farsi and 'foreigner's English', I guess you could say. Language barriers aside, each family learns about the other's culture and I guess the ultimate lesson is that in the end, they are all American. (*NOTE: The edition of this book that I read was a special Random House Anchor Publishing EMBLEM Edition, published only in Canada, and available only at Canadian bookstores, so I had to create an edition for it on Goodreads, ad thus no picture of the book is available, which is a shame. The entire book is GREEN-- the cover is a solid dark green, and the pages are gilded in dark green as well. This series re-does previously published titles in various color schemes and they are absolutely beautiful.) All in all, another great work about family and love from one of my favorites, Anne Tyler! 5 stars, man! --Jen from Quebec :0)

This was one of those funny reading experiences that started out plain, then turned a bit boring but then ended very much enjoyably. In this story, we get to meet two American families who both decide to adopt a Korean baby. They happen to be simultaneously present at the airport on the day they adopt their babies, and since then they form a friendship that allows for the two Korean girls to get to know each other - both from the same country and with the same background.
While the beginning of the book was mostly about the two girls and their growing up in a foreign country, the story gradually turned into a narrative about their family members, and I really liked this shift in focus. It provided you with a broader story that made me feel very affectionate about the two families and their developments.
Anne Tyler is great at writing about real people and "Digging to America" was no exception. The characters were honestly depicted - with their flaws and all - and that made me love them even more. Tyler's characters and educating stories are what make her books worth reading and this one is no exception.

Everybody is an outsider, really. And I think that's Tyler's point. Those unspoken rules that Maryam notices? I don't know them, and I've never even traveled outside the continental US. Those are the rules for aspirational liberal middle-class white Baltimoreans. Maybe. These characters' stories are reminding me of how nonsensical the Golden Rule is. Class, culture, gender, etc. etc. all affect how one 'wishes to be treated' and how another one couldn't guess that to be true. For example on a micro scale: Did my aunts know that I wanted to be allowed to visit with Grandpa and uncles on the patio after dinner, instead of joining them for gossip in the kitchen? Also, do you know how hard it is to find a book for teens in which the main character doesn't feel like a misfit?

And so of course this is perfect for book clubs, esp. irl ones who might not realize that even their neighbors have different perspectives, expectations, dreams, and fears.

Now if you've never read an Anne Tyler book and want to start here, it's actually a pretty good one to start with because there are so many characters and I rooted for all of them to have a happily ever after. Just know that characters is what the author does. Not a whole lot of heavy themes, no show-off pretentious style, no plot. Intelligent, sensitive, fascinating (author and characters all).

Apparently one of the things about Americans is that we eat such a diverse variety of foods that we surprise immigrants with our unpredictability. "Italian-American one day and Tex-Mex the next and Asian fusion the next..."

I loved how Brad & Sami finally did their male-bonding thing. I won't spoil it for you.

"Wouldn't it feel like a permanent bereavement, to give up your native language?" one character muses to themself. (I opine Tyler's use of the word permanent is in error, though.)

Instead of Once Upon a Time, enjoy "There was one, and there wasn't one. Except for God, there was no one." I'll have to look up other translations of this Iranian motto.

Household hint I never thought of in 57 years. Turn the old bottle (eg of shampoo) up over the new one. I'm not sure it would work better but it's worth a try.

I'm going to put a particular insight in the comments. Do *not* click through the spoiler tag unless you've read the book or are positive you never will.

I'm not 1005 an Anne Tyler fan and at times I grow tired of her, find her overrated. But I did like this book, and found some parts of the storyline quite compelling.

Its basically a story about what constitutes an American today: how and/or why one becomes an American, and what sort of American that would be. In the story, two very different families--one 'Anglo' and one first and second generation Iranian immigrants, each adopt a baby girl from Korea. How the family members of each family group react to his event as time goes by, how they change or how they struggle with change, is the tension line but the true protagonist is Maryam, the Iranian gandmother of one of the little Korean girls. Maryam, a rebel in her native Iran before the Iranian 1979 Revolution, came to the US as a young bride to meet her Iranian doctor husband in Baltimore. How she did and did not adapt, her nostalgia for Iran, her resentment towards America and some American characteristics, make up the bulk of the true dramatic conflict.


And herein lay the biggest problem for me: the novel is told in several points of views. Not only did many of these POVs not work for me (especially one of the Korean girl's POV, since in no way did I buy that as the voice of a supposedly 8 or 9 year old) but Maryam's POV is so powerful and her conflict so truly compelling that I kept wanting the other character's storylines to end so i could get back to Maryam, who really did hold my attention.

On the other hand, I found the ending satisfying and, having many close Iranian friends, feel nothing but admiration for Anne Tyler's ability to transmit this different culture to us, and to inhabit Maryam's head, when as an Iranian woman her life experience must be so different from Tyler's own.

3.5 stars rounded up.

Another typical Anne Tyler novel with the combination of quirky characters and simple, ordinary lives...with a twist. The twist in this story starts with two very different families waiting at the arrivals section of the Baltimore airport. Both families, one American, one Syrian, are waiting for their adopted Korean babies to arrive. While waiting these families make friends. The story takes off from there.

The other Tyler novels I've read felt a bit more substantial. But this is a perfect book if you're looking for a light, entertaining page-turner.