A review by ellenchen
The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts by Maxine Hong Kingston

3.0

Is it predestined that every Chinese American woman will inevitably become consumed by the question of who their mother is? Is it futile to try to collect the piecemeal information you've been told about the past or to write from her perspective in an attempt bridge the vast chasms of culture and convention that keep you from every truly knowing each other? Even though you understand that all you have your projection of her perspective -- a blurry guess of how she might see herself, see you, see your conflicts -- because you know that she too, was confused and saddened by the disconnect you shared?

Also unrelated, but the book was a great illustration of how critically first-generation Chinese American's perspectives of their country of origin are defined by the generation their parents grew up in and the China they left behind.