Well, it only took two months, but I finished "Saving Fish From Drowning," the final Amy Tan novel. And one of my favorites.

So why did it take me so long to finish reading this a second time? To the point where I lost ALL WILL to read at all for two months?

Because this is a thick, slogging book of intensity.

"Fish" is not an easy read. Oh, sure on a micro level it is. There's not too many hard ideas and certainly no difficult words or sentences to trod through, but on a macro scale it's brain sucking mind-number.

The approach and basic gist of the story is simple: 12 American tourists, all immensely spoiled and unrepentantly Western go on a Christmas visit to southern China followed by Myanmar. During this trip they create every foreigner faux pas possibly, from peeing on fertility goddesses to getting mixed up with junta. (And a side of every sickness under the sun.) Eventually, they are absconded by a hidden Karen tribe that are convinced the young boy in their group is the second coming of The Younger White Brother, who will save them from the oppressive regime of Myanmar's militaristic government.

Sounds a bit...bizarre? It is. Because the tribe is convinced they are going to be saved by getting a hit reality show on American TV.

"Saving Fish From Drowning" is not the usual Amy Tan fare. And for that, I'm glad. There is a hint of the usual Chinese mother-daughter theme here, but overall it is a long, winding tale of American superiority clashing with Southeast Asian sensibilities. The thing that makes it really unique, both for Tan and modern literature as a whole, is the narration style. You see, the book is narrated by a ghost. Not just any ghost. An omniscient ghost, who can go into anyone's head at any moment. With over 12 characters, that comes in pretty handy.

Our beloved narrator is Bibi Chen, a recently perished art critic who was the original organizer for our Americans' Asian trip. Due to her untimely death (the circumstances of which remain a mystery until the end) the trip is handed off to one of the 12, who is, of course, completely in over his head. Nothing on the trip goes right from the beginning, and in the end, Bibi the ghost (who cannot communicate with the living world at all, only watch and report) is the only one who knows what's going on with either side. It's almost a comedy of errors. I say almost, because the comedy style is very dry and sarcastic (and sometimes downright black and bleak) while the errors could have easily been avoided to the point where you want to roll your eyes.

The biggest fault of this story comes with the narration style. It's very hard to do omniscient well, especially when it's very tempting to go into every single head and report for pages on end about what people are doing. I'm afraid Tan does fall into this trap. This story could've easily been cut down. But I do not feel that the extra length is a detriment to the overall story. Nor do I feel that this story falls into the Western Savior trap with the 12 Americans "saving" the oppressed Karen tribe. Because really, the Americans just make everything worse. Everywhere they go. From my own American point of view, I found this hilarious, especially as someone who has lived in Asia and seen American superiority ruin the most mundane things. And without giving too much away, the Americans don't really "save" the Karen tribe. But that's another thing I love about this story. The ending is not happy, nor it is "hopeful" or "tragic." It's just real. Some characters discover new points of of views in their lives, and others are completely ruined. Tan's dry way of pointing out rational American thinking is on point as usual.

As I mentioned above, this is not an "easy" read, unless you have a lot of time to kill. It's fairly time consuming. But it's a great read, full of hilarious scenarios and scenes full of so much second hand embarrassment you want to crawl beneath your bed covers and pretend you're not American (if you are.) Meanwhile, you will also be treated to amazing imagery, shockingly real dialogue, and, as they say, a whole lotta heart. Amy Tan outdoes herself in this book. But don't come into it expecting another Joy Luck Club. Come into it expecting a large, multi-layered story about the human condition's ability to have too much hope for its own good.

I noticed while working my way through this rather lengthy tome that one of the major characters had the same name -- Harry Bailley -- as the character who narrated Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. But I didn't attach any particular significance to that, as the name also shows up in Getting Straight, where it has no obvious connection. Then I arrived at the end and found an interview with Amy Tan in which she acknowledges that yes this actually was intended as a modernization of the Canterbury Tales. OK, I can see how that works, but somehow I'm not sure whether it adds much.

Another question the author fields in the interview concerns Bibi, who differs from the usual omniscient narrator in being a recently deceased friend of the characters in the story. This is the third novel in a row by Tan that deals in some way with the spirit world, and while that's fine with me I did have some trouble accepting Bibi. I guess I just feel that (assuming consciousness persists after death) one's soul would have better things to do than to monitor who eats what when the twelve Western tourists she's watching venture into an eating establishment. I was more than halfway through the book before I became comfortable with Bibi. It was the increasingly weird turns of the plot that finally won the day and made this a satisfying read.

And as is usually the case when in the hands of an accomplished storyteller, I found occasional nuggets of insight that bear on life in general, such as this:

"It is amazing, isn't it, how easily people hand over the reins to those who presume power. Against their own intuition, they allow themselves to trust those who they feel should not be trusted. I include myself as one who once did this. But then again, I was only a child, whereas Harry was a grown man with a doctorate in behavioral psychology."

I have a bit of trouble in reviewing this book. I really enjoyed 'The Joy Luck Club' and 'The Bonesetter's Daughter as these gave some insight into a different culture. This is quite different. It is partly magic realism, but also seems an indictment of the military junta of Myanmar. I am not sure that the elements fit together.

The tour group did not appeal to me, in fact, they seemed like the tour group from hell - maybe that was Amy Tan's intention as it is their disregard for cultural mores and tactless behaviour that leads partly to the circumstances that led to their disappearance. She treats them with irony, but there is also a gentle comedy. Too much of a mixed bag for me!

Much like a too short trip made to an exotic destination, this read, despite its length (it was only past half way that I felt I had a grasp of the characters), felt like it packed too much into the itinerary. Having lived in this part of the world for a year, I left the book feeling likewise like I knew perhaps a little less than before I had started. I enjoyed the deceased narrator’s commentary, the abundance of different perspectives observing the same scene and the evocation of the jungle and jumble of human experience.

- I didn’t like this book at all. I never bonded with the characters and couldn’t wait to finish. The story is told from a dead woman’s perspective. That should have been my first clue. She dies right before she is suppose to be a tour guide for a trip to Burma (or Myanmar as it is now known). The group goes anyway. They start in China, but because of their lack of respect for the land and natural exhibits, they are “kicked out” and told they are not welcome. So the get to Myanmar early. The story’s climax is when they get taken to this tribes domain deep in the woods. They don’t realize it but they are actually being kidnapped. The tribe thinks the young boy is actually a spirit that has returned to save them. All because of a card trick. The group does get away at the end. I thought the writing was way too detailed. It dragged in many places. I had a really hard time finishing it. As a result, I won’t ever read another one of her books even if they are suppose to be much better than this one.

There is an anonymous quote in the preface that reads, "A pious man explained to his followers: "It is evil to take lives and noble to save them. Each day I pledge to save a hundred lives. I drop my net in the lake and scoop out a hundred fishes. I place the fishes on the bank, where they flop and twirl. "Don't be scared," I tell those fishes. "I am saving you from drowning." Soon enough, the fishes grow calm and lie still. Yet, sad to say, I am always too late. The fishes expire. And because it is evil to waste anything, I take those dead fishes to market and I sell them for a good price. With the money I receive, I buy more nets so I can save more fishes."

This book has been jostling around with me for the past year. I just couldn't settle down long enough to make my way into it. I am happy to have taken the swim, however, because Amy Tan never disappoints me. Never. She is an excellent story teller, and in this novel she has a way of suspending one's belief while expounding "ordinary" details about the story. I found myself thinking a few times, "Could that really happen?" Then I found myself just accepting things that I normally wouldn't - all in the name of being transported through fiction...one of my favorite things.

It deals much with morality, though some of you might not enjoy some of the characters' take on the subject. However, if you are interested in a tale involving a deceased narrator, appreciation for art, interpersonal relationships within a confined social group, an extended stay in the jungle of Burma where one is kidnapped without realizing it, and an extended commentary on the human rights abuses of the military junta in Burma (the junta have renamed it Myanmar, but with respect to the tale described in this book, let's all call it Burma, okay?)...consider it.

I picked this up in my library as part of a random assault on the shelves to find people I hadn’t read before. (So far, a rule of thumb seems to be ‘shelves fine, ignore stand on the way in, ignore all free standing round things, round things at end of shelves good, shelf on way out also good. On no account get anything where there are more than 6 things by the same author in one place. This may be another prejudice but I’m still in library rehab, so let me be).

I was quite pleased that coming home all 4 of the authors had 4 or 5 stars on Amazon and at least a couple available on Kindle and at the library, should I like them. However, given I only really want to read on my Kindle now and old fashioned books feel a bit last year (and I can’t knit while I read them!) this book took a little longer than it ought to have done. Amy Tan was further improved in the worth reading standing stakes though, when I found a couple of her books on Helen’s shelves.

The length of time it took me to read Saving Fish From Drowning in no way reflects on how much I enjoyed it. It is another book though where I struggle to think exactly why. The story, narrated by a recently deceased friend and leader of the group, tells the story of a rather naive group of people who take a ‘cultural’ trip to China and Burma and their experiences as the trip teeters precariously around the edges of going very wrong. Perhaps that is a good sentence to sum up the book in fact; it teeters around the edges of exploring the characters, including the life of the narrator, dips its toe into the politics of the regimes in Burma and China, paddles along the edges of rebel causes and the unreality that perhaps builds up in the minds of the desperate and sprinkles flavoursome herbs of understanding about those countries too.

That’s not a bad thing. I’m not desperate to be preached at about the miseries of life elsewhere when I’m ready for bed and this book created an inclination to know more, while a more heavy handed approach might have made me shut the book and shut my mind because I don’t want to know about more awful things. There were some eloquent blendings of beliefs, some clever characters and all the people in the group and the wider world of the book felt real and knowable. I’ll definitely read more Amy Tan; I don’t know if I’d read this one again but I’d certainly add it to my list of ‘things I’m better for having read’.

I believe this is the third book I have read by this author and this was by far, the most interesting and entertaining. One of the many excellent features of the book is that it is narrated by a woman who has died, and so everything is seen in this light. It concerns a trip organized by the narrator before her death and tell the story of that and of the lives of all the friends who went on the journey - the story of the trip and what happened after. There are many hilarious parts which show problems of travel and cultural differences in the translating of events and all that takes place behind the scenes because of political interpretations and who is in charge of a group of tourists at any given moment. Very well done and much insight into what makes countries "tick" as well as difficulties in simple interactions between the sexes.

The things I liked about this book I really really liked. The setup was awesome; Bibi arranges a tour to Burma and China for eleven of her hoity-toity friends but dies unexpectedly just before the trip. At her funeral they discuss the possibility of not going but since they don't have trip insurance they decide to go with the original plan. They have a little toast; "May Bibi join us in spirit."

"So that was how it came about. They hoped I would go. How could I not?"

And so we are treated to Bibi's special brand of tour-guide-ism as the sometimes hapless travelers encounter their adventures. Amy Tan has always has a special talent for imparting the humor of daily life along with the profound and the tragic. I loved Bibi's voice. A sample; "Lateness, I would have reminded my friends, is one of the deadly sins on a group tour, not to be tolerated, and punishable by the fates in any number of unforgiving ways."

I also love a book with great personalities. All of these are well developed and the interpersonal relationships that develop along the way are a joy to observe as these tourists get to know each other in ways that only fellow-travelers can.

Tan's trademark may well be her mother-daughter writing. A passage that I liked a lot;

"A mother is the one who fills your heart in the first place. She teaches you the nature of happiness; what is the right amount, what is too much, and the kind that makes you want more of what is bad for you. A mother helps her baby flex her first feelings of pleasure. She teaches her when to later exercise restraint, or to take squealing joy in recognizing the fluttering leaves of the gingko tree, to sense a quieter but more profound satisfaction in chancing upon an everlasting pine. A mother enables you to realize that there are different levels of beauty, and therein lie the sources of pleasure, some of which are popular and ordinary, and thus of brief value, and others of which are difficult and rare, and hence worth pursuing."

A couple of bad things; There are a lot of characters. If this bothers you - too many people to keep track of - skip it. I actually had to make some crib notes in the beginning, just because I really wanted to get to know them all right off the bat. Also, I thought the ending was a bit drawn out. Maybe I was just anxious to get finished. (It's nearly five-hundred pages), but I did get a little fatigued at the end.

The story is told from the viewpoint of Bebe, a Chinese-American art collector who dies before she can take 12 friends on a tour of Myanmar (formerly Burma). Her ghost follows them on their trip, where they soon deviate from the itinerary she set up for them. Cultural misunderstandings, romantic crossed wires, and perilous adventures ensue. Tan doesn't shy away from terrible realities, like the skinny AIDS-infected prostitutes in China's red-light districts to the brutal regime in Myanmar that throws foreign journalists in jail and attempts to commit genocide against native tribes. However, there is a lot of humor in the book, largely at the expense of the American tourists, and I found myself laughing out loud many times. I have read other Amy Tan books and liked them but don't remember her being nearly this funny. I really liked this one.

I love Amy Tan’s books. Her mix of mundane and mythic worlds are beautiful.

This was a very enjoyable read for me! I liked how she used humour to write about injustice, and there was quite a bit of exploration of how how different people can have vastly different perspectives on the same events.