Lois-Ann Yamanaka

When Claire draws winter as the season she must write a report on, she's disappointed. After all, in Hawaii, it's not like she imagines it to be in much of the world. When her father takes the family to the top of Mauna Kea after a snow storm, the experience isn't what she expected. As she and her family try making a snowman, snowballs, and try sledding on an inner tube, she can't help but imagine what 'real' snow in winter would be like. Later that day, the family enjoys time at their favorite beach where Claire helps make a sand man, throws sand balls at her brother, and realizes how fortunate she is to live where she does. This book is very nicely illustrated, makes the point that appreciating where you live, while respecting the environment, is important, and highlights plants and creatures native to Hawaii. I'm sharing it with my eight year old granddaughter who takes snow for granted.… (altro)

Lois-Ann Yamanaka’s novel, Blu’s Hanging, begins most appropriately with a description of hunger satisfied in meager portions – the narrator Ivah Ogata feeding herself and her little siblings, Blu and Maisie, only with bread covered in mayonnaise, while their father feeds his hunger for his dead wife by playing “Moon River” at the piano (3). The atmosphere of hunger and want, told and highlighted by Ivah’s lilting pidgin, appears in moments of sweet sorrow throughout the book even in its final chapters, reflecting the reality of a world where hunger never ceases, even in death.

Yamanaka’s story, a source of controversy for its depiction of sexuality and incest (primarily in the form of the Ogata family’s neighbor, Uncle Paolo - a depiction that later caused the rescinding of an award from the AAAS), is sometimes alienating and sometimes cringeworthy, but I cannot deny that it is well-written and that the characters are presented so vividly that they are often too real. Racism and poverty also have center stage here, as the family copes to deal with the death of their mother.

The children’s need for belonging is often heartbreaking. Ivah dreams of being Betty from the Archie comics, while Blu tries to place himself in every Clint Eastwood cowboy scene he can think of, despite his corpulence and his not being white. Within the family unit, the desire for acceptance is fueled by fear. As the children’s father slips deeper and deeper into his grief, the rare moments where he is at the house and not working multiple jobs are accented by his tiredness and his unwillingness to deal with the children except in the most practical of terms. Any emotion Bertram may have felt outside of this tiredness is as silenced, a reflection of his daughter Maisie, whose silence overtook her and rendered her mute upon their mother’s death. The relative absence of both of their parents causes the children, particularly Ivah, to grow up very quickly in order to mother each other.

Yamanaka’s novel is certainly not for everybody, and even I venture to think twice before reading it again. Still it is a well-written novel even when some of the characters are unlikable, and stories often too in touch with the reality of what they are depicting.… (altro)

The Heart's Language hit home for me as I know and love many people who are non-verbal. I can relate to the parents struggle to connect with their child, as we rely heavily on spoken language to communicate. I can relate to hearing those around judging for what they don't understand. Yamanaka did a good job of portraying the message that our deepest connections can be found in seeing others for who they are and going out of our comfort zone to meet people where they are and listen to their heart.… (altro)