Saving fish from drowning

God must be furious to turn the sky into the eerie color of beige. All the windows were shut and the whole building was like a gas chamber. Soon I’ll be on my getaway.

Just finished Amy Tan’s saving fish from drowning. A story so touching and mesmerizing it changed my perception on fictions. I thought I didn’t like novels, but I underestimated myself. I just didn’t find my niche. Novels in fact can be as real as memoirs.

It’s a nice surprise to find an author that I identify with and know a character that I have empathy for. Reading the last chapter of a favorite book feels like bidding farewell to a long-known friend. All good things come to an end.

An excerpt:
…It was a year after I started university life, and I had returned home at Sweet Ma's command to join the family celebration of the Autumn Festival, what is traditionally a time of thanksgiving. Now here we were, my father and brothers and I, at the usual gathering of distant relatives and Chinese friends, both longtime citizens and the recently immigrated. We were in the backyard of a second cousin's house in Menlo Park, about to view the full moon rise. We carried paper lanterns with sputtering candles, and walked toward the swimming pool. And in that pool, I saw the moon appear and shimmer, a golden melon and not just a flat disc, as it had always appeared to me before. I heard people moan with happiness. I saw their mouths pop open, the rims of their eyes drip with tears.

My mouth was closed, my eyes were dry. I could see the moon as clearly as they, and I could even appreciate its special glories. But why didn't I flood in the same way? Why was their happiness tenfold what I felt? Did I lack the proper connection between the senses and the heart?

And then I realized that this was my habit. To hold back my feelings. To keep my knees from buckling. And with that knowledge, I was ready to feel whatever I wanted, as fully as I wanted. I gazed at the moon and willed myself to feel all the emotions. I waited for joy and awe to wash over me. I was determined, I was ready, I was anticipating, expecting, hoping . . . but nothing happened. My legs stood strong and straight.