The first thing that struck me about Bich Nguyen's Stealing Buddha's Dinner was how different it was from our first reading, Jane Kramer's essay, "The Reporter's Kitchen." Kramer makes the exotic seem commonplace, and in the context of her essay, it works. The point, we are led to believe, isn't to show off all the places and people and foods she's encountered; the point is to talk about what all of that has to do with writing. When I compared the two readings, however, Kramer's narrative came off as the rarefied gourmet creation to Nguyen's home-cooked meal. Like the woman in David Sedaris's "The Ship Shape" who says, "My home - well, one of my homes," Kramer's normalization of her experiences, both journalistic and culinary, feels like an act put on for our benefit.
Nguyen, by contrast, successfully raises an apple to treasure status, and makes what might seem commonplace to us, such as Nestle's Toll House cookies, seem as exotic as any Parisian haute cuisine or traditional Moroccan dish. The way she savors (both literally and figuratively) every meal makes me think, somewhat guiltily, about my own wolfish eating habits. She confronts us with our gluttony while simultaneously praising it as the greatest goal her younger self could hope to achieve. In her writing, food becomes flavored with otherness, with belonging, with poverty, and with privilege. The poet Adam Falkner defines privilege, in part, as "the option of silence;" I think of the American obsession with diets, and of every time I've decided not to eat some treat or other, and then I think of Nguyen hiding in her grandmother's closet with her stolen desserts, and I wonder if perhaps another definition of privilege is "the option of going without."
This disparity also speaks to the high expectations American society tends to have of immigrants. Often, they'll be expected (if not explicitly then implicitly) to be able to read, write, and speak perfect English as soon as they arrive. Meanwhile, according to the National Assessment of Adult Literacy from 2003, 43% of U.S. adults read at a basic or below-basic level, including 11% of graduate students and those with graduate degrees. We also expect them to obey stricter laws (or may strictly obey the law), and they can be deported for almost any reason due to the lack of oversight for administrative departments. Then, to become a citizen, they have to pass a test which most people born in the U.S. would likely fail (as I and many of my classmates did when we took it in a high school U.S. Government class).
Jordan, I think your comparison between the pieces is very interesting and important. I hadn't thought about them in that way and I think you bringing this issue up allows a deeper understanding of the text. The Kramer piece made everything feel exotic because to me, it was exotic. But I think you are spot on to point out that Bich also paints food as exotic and immaculate but not because it is but because that's the way she views it. This really points at the different backgrounds of the two authors and gives us a greater understanding of where Bich is coming from. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteWhat a gorgeous response, Jordan. I love the way you compare texts and bring in all kinds of relevant external sources. It's so dense with awareness and insight. I especially love the way you see Bich turning us into immigrants as readers of her text--and in how we then return to our own lives. Wonderful stuff!
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your comparison between the two readings. I agree that Nguyen does a wonderful job making food extraordinary when I would have originally seen a lot of it as common. I found myself realizing that when Bich liked a food, so did I, and when Bich didn't like a food, neither did I, regardless of how I really feel about those foods. Her descriptions allow us to feel as if the food is sitting in front of us.
ReplyDeleteWhat I like the most about your piece, Jordan, is that you take a political stand, so to speak. While Nguyen's book expresses implicitly (meaning, through daily life examples) the complicated issue of being an immigrant in American, you put that into explicit words. The question of food, and particularly mainstream American food, would not be a big deal at all in Stealing Buddha's dinner if Bich would have been born in America. Thank you for your awareness.
ReplyDeleteHa! Wonderful Sedaris reference, and a very thoughtful exploration of food/culture as it relates to privilege. I see where you're coming from in your post-Nguyen reading of Kramer's piece. I would agree that she nears dangerous territory in some of the descriptions of her experiences - potentially problematic exoticism of some of the culture-specific foods she mentions. Her offhanded-ness does leave a slightly sour taste in my mouth...
ReplyDeleteJordan,
ReplyDeleteSuch interesting commentary on the idea of "going without". Many American can choose, or not, to eat healthy- to buy natural or processed foods. In Stealing Buddha's Dinner, the desire to be American can be felt through the choices Bich makes, can easily be reflected to us and our own society.
Good commentary to chew on!