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Brothers
At the height of China’s Cultural Revolution a powerful general fathered two sons. Tan was born to the general’s wife and into a life of comfort and luxury. His half brother, Shento, was born to the general’s mistress, who threw herself off a cliff in the mountains of Balan only moments after delivering her child. Growing up, each remained ignorant of the other’s existence. In Beijing, Tan enjoyed the best schools, the finest clothes, and the prettiest girls. Shento was raised on the mountainside by an old healer and his wife until their deaths landed him in an orphanage, where he was always hungry, alone, and frightened. Though on divergent roads, each brother is driven by a passionate desire—one to glorify his father, the other to seek revenge against him.
Separated by distance and opportunity, Tan and Shento follow the paths that lie before them, while unknowingly falling in love with the same woman and moving toward the explosive moment when their fates finally merge.
Brothers, by bestselling memoirist Da Chen, is a sprawling, dynamic family saga, complete with assassinations, love affairs, narrowly missed opportunities, and the ineluctable fulfillment of destiny.
Separated by distance and opportunity, Tan and Shento follow the paths that lie before them, while unknowingly falling in love with the same woman and moving toward the explosive moment when their fates finally merge.
Brothers, by bestselling memoirist Da Chen, is a sprawling, dynamic family saga, complete with assassinations, love affairs, narrowly missed opportunities, and the ineluctable fulfillment of destiny.
432 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2006
32 people are currently reading
876 people want to read
About the author
Da Chen
26 books69 followersDa Chen (born in 1962 in Fujian, China) was a Chinese author whose works include Brothers, China's Son, Sounds of the River, Sword, and Colors of the Mountain. A graduate of Beijing Language and Culture University and Columbia Law School, Da Chen lived in the Hudson Valley in New York but then moved to Torrance, California with his wife, the paranormal romance author Sunni, and two children. Brothers has been awarded best book of 2006 by The Washington Post, San Francisco Chronicle, Miami Herald and Publishers Weekly.
Chen passed away on December 17, 2019 at his home in Temecula, California from lung cancer.
(from Wikipedia)
Chen passed away on December 17, 2019 at his home in Temecula, California from lung cancer.
(from Wikipedia)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 172 reviews
July 30, 2024
Audiobook para me acompanhar nas caminhadas. Entreteve mas não deslumbrou.
October 29, 2008
I'm almost embarrassed to critique this book, because I felt like I was reading the first noveling effort of a very young author. It had every cliche of both historical fiction and poor storytelling, and about halfway through the book I was reading it only to see how much more ridiculous it would become before the end. All the characters are flat stereotypes, either completely good or fully evil; there's an attempt to explain the Bad Guy's fall, which isn't convincing, and there's an even more improbable suggestion of redemption. The Good Guy, on the other hand, is entirely good - and also rich and intelligent and unbelievably lucky. The woman they both love is also perfect: beautiful, smart, and a bestselling author after her first writing attempt. Everything in the book seems to happen because Da Chen needs it to happen, not because it's the logical outcome of what's gone before, and what were supposed to be plot twists or important revelations felt like weak attempts at surprising the reader.
More inexcusable than weak plot development is the "historical" setting of the book. China in the 1960s through the 1990s is not just the background of the story, oh no - of course, the characters are each intimately involved in pretty much everything that happened during that period. One character is the grandson of Mao's two closest advisors, the other effortlessly becomes "Heng Tu's" right-hand man, and their personal battles are what provoked the Tiananmen Square incident. Okay, sure.
The icing on the cake is Da Chen's frequently peculiar word choices. I don't mind unusual metaphors or creative language, but words like "unforetelling" and "creeked" (a small sample of what I can remember) were odd enough to take me right out of the story while I pondered what they actually meant.
I'm giving this two stars rather than one because I admit it was entertaining. It reminded me of a poorly-written, big-budget Hollywood costume piece, having little to do with history or storytelling but everything to do with its creator's ego and self-indulgent fantasies.
More inexcusable than weak plot development is the "historical" setting of the book. China in the 1960s through the 1990s is not just the background of the story, oh no - of course, the characters are each intimately involved in pretty much everything that happened during that period. One character is the grandson of Mao's two closest advisors, the other effortlessly becomes "Heng Tu's" right-hand man, and their personal battles are what provoked the Tiananmen Square incident. Okay, sure.
The icing on the cake is Da Chen's frequently peculiar word choices. I don't mind unusual metaphors or creative language, but words like "unforetelling" and "creeked" (a small sample of what I can remember) were odd enough to take me right out of the story while I pondered what they actually meant.
I'm giving this two stars rather than one because I admit it was entertaining. It reminded me of a poorly-written, big-budget Hollywood costume piece, having little to do with history or storytelling but everything to do with its creator's ego and self-indulgent fantasies.
May 3, 2007
I have been fascinated for a very long time by Asia generally and China specifically. I’ve done a lot of reading about Chinese history, especially Chinese history from the end of the empire to today. Oddly enough, I have learned more about the Chinese people and culture from reading novels by Chinese authors than I have from any work of non-fiction. This book fits into this trend perfectly. Brothers tells the story of two half-brothers, fathered by the favorite son of two of the most powerful families in Maoist China. Each brother has the intelligence and the drive to become great and do great things. However, over the course of the Vietnam war, the Cultural Revolution, the death of Mao, and the opening of communist China to the west, the brother who seemed to be the favorite son finds himself brought low, while the bastard son is elevated to the highest levels. Not only does this story illustrate so much of what is wrong with China and so much of what could be right, it also shows how people with the best motives can find themselves in a position of doing horrible things.
March 17, 2013
The writer/librarian Nancy Pearl suggests that if you are unsure if you like a book you are currently reading, subtract your age from the number 100 and the remaining number is the amount of pages you should slog through before giving up...well, just because it started out in a promising way, i gave Brothers a few more pages than that before I threw in the towel. The set up is good, the development not so. Two brothers, two lives, one love, who cares....
April 14, 2019
Yes, I read the whole thing, and yes, it was very entertaining, but in a junk-food-Hollywood-action-movie kind of way, which was totally not what I was expecting. This is an absolutely ridiculous novel on every level and I figured author Da Chen had made it that way intentionally until I read his nauseatingly earnest and self-congratulating afterword. Give me a break.
December 12, 2008
This book was jam backed with love, tragedy, hatred, revenge and forgiveness. I cried at the end. I gave this book a five but maybe it's just the right time in my life to read something like this where I can really appreciate all the aspects this book offered.
December 12, 2021
It started with a seventeen-year-old becoming a sex god in five sessions and somehow went downhill from there.
June 11, 2020
A estória de 2 irmãos que crescem em condições diferentes e têm seus caminhos cruzados não foge de nenhum clichê que você já imagina: Tan, o filho legítimo de um general chinês, cresce em meio às regalias que a sua posição social proporciona; já Shento, o filho ilegítimo, come o pão que o diabo (comunista) amassou.
Em dado momento, a maré de azar dos dois se inverte, a família de Tan cai em desgraça com o governo e é expulsa da cidade, enquanto Shento entra numa espécie de organização paramilitar que o alçará às esferas mais altas do poder. Acompanhamos assim o crescimento dos irmãos por anos, numa imersão bem interessante na sociedade chinesa dos anos 70 e 80, misturando ficção e realidade, mostrando a transição que ocorre após a morte de Mao.
Tudo enfim caminha como esperado, para um inevitável confronto entre os 2 irmãos, com Tan ressurgindo como um grande empresário e Shento já consagrado como o principal nome da segurança institucional do Governo chinês. Para piorar, os 2 disputam o amor da mesma mulher, que Shento conheceu num reformatório e Tan nos seus dias de exílio.
Apesar de uma narrativa bem conduzida, a visão maniqueísta com que o autor caminha a resolução do conflito foi bem decepcionante, exagerando demais nas características positivas de um e negativas do outro.
Tenho a impressão que teríamos um desfecho muito mais interessante se os 2 irmãos mantivessem suas virtudes inicialmente destacadas, e apresentassem ao longo dos anos um comportamento sem grandes desvios éticos, pavimentando uma eventual “disputa” (nem que seja apenas no campo sentimental, ligado ao amor do pai e de Sumi) muito mais difícil e, sobretudo, polêmica.
Em dado momento, a maré de azar dos dois se inverte, a família de Tan cai em desgraça com o governo e é expulsa da cidade, enquanto Shento entra numa espécie de organização paramilitar que o alçará às esferas mais altas do poder. Acompanhamos assim o crescimento dos irmãos por anos, numa imersão bem interessante na sociedade chinesa dos anos 70 e 80, misturando ficção e realidade, mostrando a transição que ocorre após a morte de Mao.
Tudo enfim caminha como esperado, para um inevitável confronto entre os 2 irmãos, com Tan ressurgindo como um grande empresário e Shento já consagrado como o principal nome da segurança institucional do Governo chinês. Para piorar, os 2 disputam o amor da mesma mulher, que Shento conheceu num reformatório e Tan nos seus dias de exílio.
Apesar de uma narrativa bem conduzida, a visão maniqueísta com que o autor caminha a resolução do conflito foi bem decepcionante, exagerando demais nas características positivas de um e negativas do outro.
Tenho a impressão que teríamos um desfecho muito mais interessante se os 2 irmãos mantivessem suas virtudes inicialmente destacadas, e apresentassem ao longo dos anos um comportamento sem grandes desvios éticos, pavimentando uma eventual “disputa” (nem que seja apenas no campo sentimental, ligado ao amor do pai e de Sumi) muito mais difícil e, sobretudo, polêmica.
October 8, 2016
3.0
Read the author's bio to be sure of his language skills with English; he attended Columbia Law School after emigrating from southern China. His bio is in fact more interesting than the book though the story has parallels with his life in China and here.
Almost gave this title a 2 star due to its flat description, and occasional odd word usage ( noted by another review here). If he were attempting to imitate Hemingway, it did not suit the subject matter. Characters tend to be 2-dimensional when each could easily have more depth. The events occur as a backdrop or an all too convenient plot mechanism; in either case, more details would have added much to the story.
And like many titles from the publishing congloms, this story has been edited and dumbed down to a truly annoying degree. It has little to do with the author's linguistic ability for on occasion he soars. Someone really fluffed doing the edit including the line edit --- at times words are missing and there are glaring examples of misuse/misspelling like " discrete" rather than discreet with reference to a waiter ( ca. page 296 in hardbound). Please, don't EVER diss an indie title again for editing/typos issues. The trad titles are replete with them. Or should we say, repleat ? Hah!
Read the author's bio to be sure of his language skills with English; he attended Columbia Law School after emigrating from southern China. His bio is in fact more interesting than the book though the story has parallels with his life in China and here.
Almost gave this title a 2 star due to its flat description, and occasional odd word usage ( noted by another review here). If he were attempting to imitate Hemingway, it did not suit the subject matter. Characters tend to be 2-dimensional when each could easily have more depth. The events occur as a backdrop or an all too convenient plot mechanism; in either case, more details would have added much to the story.
And like many titles from the publishing congloms, this story has been edited and dumbed down to a truly annoying degree. It has little to do with the author's linguistic ability for on occasion he soars. Someone really fluffed doing the edit including the line edit --- at times words are missing and there are glaring examples of misuse/misspelling like " discrete" rather than discreet with reference to a waiter ( ca. page 296 in hardbound). Please, don't EVER diss an indie title again for editing/typos issues. The trad titles are replete with them. Or should we say, repleat ? Hah!
March 29, 2010
This one caught me by surprise. Originally assigned for an eastern literature class, this one caught my attention because of the use of poetic description, as well as its grand scope, taking place from China's Cultural Revolution to modern times, and covering an entire family's struggle. Nothing too deep or thought provoking, but certainly worth picking up.
November 14, 2008
Interesting historical/family drama seen through the lens of three generations of Chinese men - two brothers, one growing up as a revered son, the other a bastard. Their lives continue to intersect through time and relationships.
June 26, 2008
Some revealing glimpses into Modern Day China and the monumental issues the country still faces. A most fascinating novel. I found it to be a page-turner.
April 18, 2020
The first 75% of the book was a strong 4 star - classic dickensian structure of two brothers separated at birth and following their different and intersecting paths through maoist and post maoist china. But the last 25% tried to turn it into a confrontation between them that didn't work and by the end got downright silly.
October 22, 2017
Truly wonderful read. Heart wrenching at times, but beautiful at the same time.
April 7, 2021
Não recordo quando fiz a leitura, talvez há mais de dez anos, mas até hoje lembro da intensidade da história. Vou reler para reencontrar os personagens :)
September 19, 2022
This books has a great plot but suffers from extremely bad execution. The pase is awful, everything has the same weight, the author misses every chance of making an impact with twists and reveals, and the whole 500 pages have the same tone. Awful.
February 24, 2013
Gute Brüder kann niemand trennen
Shento und Tan sind die (Halb-)Brüder, deren Biografie diesen Roman ausmachen. Immer abwechselnd wird pro Kapitel die Lebensgeschichte der beiden sich so ähnlichen Charaktere vorangetrieben. Der eine wächst in einem Umfeld einer hochdekorierten Familie von Generälen und Bankern auf, der andere, ein "Unfall" des Vaters des erstgenannten, durchlebt als Waise die Armut und Grausamkeit des kulturrevolutionären Mao-Chinas. Der Autor Da Chen schildert in einer sehr spannenden Art und Weise, wie sich die Biografien der beiden Brüder in Wellenbewegungen voneinander weg und wieder aufeinander zu bewegen. Durch Nebenpersonen sind die beiden immer verbunden, ohne sich selbst zu kennen.
Gerade in der Schilderung der Grausamkeiten des Mao- und Postmao-Chinas glänzt Da Chen: Die Darstellung der brutalen Umerziehungsschule, die letztlich nichts anderes als eine Sklavenfarm ist, in der das Gesetz des Stärkeren regiert, oder der Unwägbarkeiten des Deng-Regimes, in dem nichts mehr verlässlich war und jeder innerhalb von Momenten von einem Günstling zu einem Staatsfeind und umgekehrt werden konnte. Folterungen und Mord sind an der Tagesordnung, das Lebensglück eines Einzelnen ist nichts wert. Eine sehr harte Welt; es täte gut, dass wir uns im Westen mit unserem gemütlichen Lebensstil ihr immer wieder gewahr werden, und uns klarmachen, dass wir um jeden Preis verhindern müssen, in so ein Stadium, in dem gerade wir in Deutschland uns auch einmal befanden, zurückzufallen. Solche Romane wie "Brothers" sind daher neben der Unterhaltung ein mächtiges Erziehungswerkzeug.
Was mir aber den ganzen Genuss extrem verdirbt, sind die offensichtlichen Fehler, die überall im Roman auftauchen. Da wird die Tang-Dynastie auf 840 vor Christus statt nach Christus verortet (S.20), ein chinesisches "li" als das Äquivalent einer Meile dargestellt statt eines halben Kilometers (S. 105), "Dream of Red Mansions" als "erotica" bezeichnet (S. 123), bis hin zur hanebüchenen Andeutung, Zhuge Liang (von dem der Autor annimmt, sein Familienname sei "Zhu") wäre eine Figur, die in Sunzis "Kunst des Krieges" auftauche (S. 117f) - das lässt mir die Haare zu Berge stehen. Solche Fehler werfen mich regelmäßig aus dem Lesefluss, vor allem, weil gerade ein Autor mit chinesischen Wurzeln wie Da Chen, der einen Großteil seines Lebens sogar in China verbracht hat, für solche Dinge ein besseres Gefühl haben müsste. Die Transskription der chinesischen Bezeichnungen und Eigennamen ist ähnlich chaotisch: völlig ohne Konzept verwendet der Autor Pinyin, Wade-Giles und eine eigene seltsame Transskription wild durcheinander. Das alles führt dazu, dass der Roman nicht authentisch wirkt.
Auch unabhängig von solchen faktischen Fehlern, findet man immer wieder knirschende, sehr für den westlichen Leser konstruierte Dialoge, in denen chinesische Eigenheiten im Gespräch erklärt werden, die für jeden Chinesen klar sind, und daher solche Dialoge nie stattfinden würden (z.B. wenn der chinesische Junge den Namen "Hei Gou" erst versteht, wenn er als "Black Dog" übersetzt wird, oder er in der Diskussion um Xinjiang die völlig konstruierte Nachfrage "The Chinese Siberia?" stellen muss (S.111), ähnlich später "The Chinese KGB" usw.). Insgesamt scheint mir, dass die meisten Dialoge irgendwie fremdartig wirken, kein Mensch, auch nicht in China, spricht so. Dazu hat der Autor oft einen unsäglichen Hauptsatz-für-Hauptsatz-Stil, der äußerst abgehackt und wenig literarisch herüberkommt. Meine ganzen Kritikpunkte bessern sich mit der zweiten Hälfte des Romans etwas; ab da scheint der Autor seinen Fluss gefunden zu haben (und vielleicht hat der Lektor dann auch mal Tacheles geredet).
Auf der materiellen Seite sieht das ganze anders aus: Ein sehr schön gestaltetes Hardcover mit ansprechendem Schutzumschlag, einem angenehmen Druckbild und viel Weißraum bietet dem Auge einiges, dazu ein gelungener Rough Cut; das Papier ist sehr dick.
Fazit: Zuviele handwerkliche Mängel des Autors verderben dem Leser also den Spaß an einem Roman, der ansonsten durchaus großes Potenzial gehabt hätte.
Shento und Tan sind die (Halb-)Brüder, deren Biografie diesen Roman ausmachen. Immer abwechselnd wird pro Kapitel die Lebensgeschichte der beiden sich so ähnlichen Charaktere vorangetrieben. Der eine wächst in einem Umfeld einer hochdekorierten Familie von Generälen und Bankern auf, der andere, ein "Unfall" des Vaters des erstgenannten, durchlebt als Waise die Armut und Grausamkeit des kulturrevolutionären Mao-Chinas. Der Autor Da Chen schildert in einer sehr spannenden Art und Weise, wie sich die Biografien der beiden Brüder in Wellenbewegungen voneinander weg und wieder aufeinander zu bewegen. Durch Nebenpersonen sind die beiden immer verbunden, ohne sich selbst zu kennen.
Gerade in der Schilderung der Grausamkeiten des Mao- und Postmao-Chinas glänzt Da Chen: Die Darstellung der brutalen Umerziehungsschule, die letztlich nichts anderes als eine Sklavenfarm ist, in der das Gesetz des Stärkeren regiert, oder der Unwägbarkeiten des Deng-Regimes, in dem nichts mehr verlässlich war und jeder innerhalb von Momenten von einem Günstling zu einem Staatsfeind und umgekehrt werden konnte. Folterungen und Mord sind an der Tagesordnung, das Lebensglück eines Einzelnen ist nichts wert. Eine sehr harte Welt; es täte gut, dass wir uns im Westen mit unserem gemütlichen Lebensstil ihr immer wieder gewahr werden, und uns klarmachen, dass wir um jeden Preis verhindern müssen, in so ein Stadium, in dem gerade wir in Deutschland uns auch einmal befanden, zurückzufallen. Solche Romane wie "Brothers" sind daher neben der Unterhaltung ein mächtiges Erziehungswerkzeug.
Was mir aber den ganzen Genuss extrem verdirbt, sind die offensichtlichen Fehler, die überall im Roman auftauchen. Da wird die Tang-Dynastie auf 840 vor Christus statt nach Christus verortet (S.20), ein chinesisches "li" als das Äquivalent einer Meile dargestellt statt eines halben Kilometers (S. 105), "Dream of Red Mansions" als "erotica" bezeichnet (S. 123), bis hin zur hanebüchenen Andeutung, Zhuge Liang (von dem der Autor annimmt, sein Familienname sei "Zhu") wäre eine Figur, die in Sunzis "Kunst des Krieges" auftauche (S. 117f) - das lässt mir die Haare zu Berge stehen. Solche Fehler werfen mich regelmäßig aus dem Lesefluss, vor allem, weil gerade ein Autor mit chinesischen Wurzeln wie Da Chen, der einen Großteil seines Lebens sogar in China verbracht hat, für solche Dinge ein besseres Gefühl haben müsste. Die Transskription der chinesischen Bezeichnungen und Eigennamen ist ähnlich chaotisch: völlig ohne Konzept verwendet der Autor Pinyin, Wade-Giles und eine eigene seltsame Transskription wild durcheinander. Das alles führt dazu, dass der Roman nicht authentisch wirkt.
Auch unabhängig von solchen faktischen Fehlern, findet man immer wieder knirschende, sehr für den westlichen Leser konstruierte Dialoge, in denen chinesische Eigenheiten im Gespräch erklärt werden, die für jeden Chinesen klar sind, und daher solche Dialoge nie stattfinden würden (z.B. wenn der chinesische Junge den Namen "Hei Gou" erst versteht, wenn er als "Black Dog" übersetzt wird, oder er in der Diskussion um Xinjiang die völlig konstruierte Nachfrage "The Chinese Siberia?" stellen muss (S.111), ähnlich später "The Chinese KGB" usw.). Insgesamt scheint mir, dass die meisten Dialoge irgendwie fremdartig wirken, kein Mensch, auch nicht in China, spricht so. Dazu hat der Autor oft einen unsäglichen Hauptsatz-für-Hauptsatz-Stil, der äußerst abgehackt und wenig literarisch herüberkommt. Meine ganzen Kritikpunkte bessern sich mit der zweiten Hälfte des Romans etwas; ab da scheint der Autor seinen Fluss gefunden zu haben (und vielleicht hat der Lektor dann auch mal Tacheles geredet).
Auf der materiellen Seite sieht das ganze anders aus: Ein sehr schön gestaltetes Hardcover mit ansprechendem Schutzumschlag, einem angenehmen Druckbild und viel Weißraum bietet dem Auge einiges, dazu ein gelungener Rough Cut; das Papier ist sehr dick.
Fazit: Zuviele handwerkliche Mängel des Autors verderben dem Leser also den Spaß an einem Roman, der ansonsten durchaus großes Potenzial gehabt hätte.
Read
June 10, 2010This is an historical fiction book about the China’s Cultural Revolution about a general and his two sons. In Brothers by Dan Chen, Shento one of the narrators ask Budda and Sumi, the one he loves for forgiveness. Similar to Leonka’s situation in The Kitchen Boy, he hid the note, however, it was lost. Shento ask Sumi for forgiveness for harming her and cutting off her tongue because she was an anti-Communist. “Forgive me that I have sinned. Spare me a chance so that I can redeem, act by act, the wrongs, the sins, countless that they might be. I am ripe for new beginning; it can only be granted by your grace” (Chen 408). Both narrators ask forgiveness for their guilt because of the effect of war. War not only is the conflict for many historical fictions but also is a conflict for their romance. Both are dealing not only with man vs. self conflict but also with man vs. man and man vs. society because of the time period the protagonist grew up living in shape how they view society politically. Although, the narrators do not share the same political viewpoints, how can they set aside differences and share a common noble goal instead of complete with assassinations, love affairs and desires.
February 14, 2018
A male fantasy. That’s how I would summarize this book. It does start off well but quickly becomes a fantastical tale of two brothers of superheroic proportions. The overly perfect protagonists make the story unrelatable. The author writes beautifully at times but overuses flowery language and melodramatic romance to the point it becomes another annoyance. As other reviewers have noticed, his word choice can be distracting, if not jarring, at times. The worst example of this to me is his continual use of the word « soiled » to describe a man reaching climax and, at the end, to describe Shento’s fallen state in an otherwise moving last letter from Shento to Sumi. Cringed every time.
June 14, 2008
I really liked this book. Da Chen was such an amazing writer, with his discriptions of what was going on in the two brother's lives, I really felt what they were going through and was cheering them both on.
The thing that kept this book from being a five-star is the ending. You end up wanting both brothers to find happiness - but in the end neither of them do. Not that I think a happy ending could have necessarily fit in with the rest of the book, I just felt empty after finishing the book. In my mind nothing was really solved, the book just kind of left you there wishing for more.
The thing that kept this book from being a five-star is the ending. You end up wanting both brothers to find happiness - but in the end neither of them do. Not that I think a happy ending could have necessarily fit in with the rest of the book, I just felt empty after finishing the book. In my mind nothing was really solved, the book just kind of left you there wishing for more.
August 4, 2009
Yet another powerful novel of intense personal drama set in the context of the turbulent politics of Communist China. Told primarily in the voices of two sons (one legitimate & one illegitimate, orphaned, & unacknowledged) of a powerful Chinese general, later discredited, and of the woman they both love, it's like a 19th-century Russian novel--or one of Dickens, whom a couple of the characters in the book admire--in ambition, scope, and unlikely coincidences, on the verge of melodrama, but with a story so moving you don't really care.
February 21, 2008
The story of two brothers, growing up in different families not know the other exhists, and how fate brings them together. Both brothers are good and evil. I fell in love with Shento and hated Tao in the the beginning. Then my feelings turned mid-book only to determine that fate was cruel and that I loved both brothers by the end of the book.
September 11, 2015
Ugh! Avoid, avoid, avoid. I couldn't even finish it. Life's too short--though this book will make it seem infinitely longer! I do not understand all the fours and fives! This is the most hackneyed, melodramatic, shallowly written piece of drivel it's been my misfortune to read.
February 19, 2008
An intriquing plot poorly executed. After the upteenth cringe-worthy passage, I put it down half read.
January 23, 2008
this was also a book club recommendation, but I just couldn't get into it. I only read 75 pages and took it back to the library, boring to me.
February 17, 2008
Thought it would give me some cultural and historical insight. The flow of the read was not smooth at all. I was bewildered most of the time.
December 3, 2017
Not the type of book that I'll remember in the future...
August 14, 2012
This is one of my all-time favorite books, ever, across all genres.
September 27, 2014
Critical Analysis: Brothers by Da Chen
Da Chen in his novel Brothers sows seeds of beauty that flourish and abound in a book filled with memorable hardships and glorious triumphs. Brothers explores the role of social influences in the development of the self, the social comparisons of Shento and Tan –– two estranged brothers who take conflicting sides in China’s Cultural Revolution. Within the Revolution is the timeframe when the shooting at Tiananmen Square takes place; which is dealt within the narrative. This conflict starts at the beginning of their lives when Shento’s mother:
“Gave birth to me meant to end it all, not just her life, but also mine, right at the moment of my sunrise. She was in a hurry to leap off the cliff atop Mount Balan…” (Chen 1).
This young mother commits suicide because her lover General Long will not acknowledge their illegitimate son. This imposed and unwanted suicide by the mother –– of mother and son –– sets into place the forces which will shape Shento’s sense of self and one’s possible self. Some could argue that as early as Shento’s infancy, he called the attention of others and others consciously affect him before he himself consciously affects his identity of self. This image of his “self” is created by others while those images of “self” are then embraced. Shento, much like us, has a self in whom he portrays to others but also has a self which belongs to others and which is shaped by others attributions about him. It can be argued that we have a truer self, in which is the self one would like to be within one’s unique path; which views us as involved, through our social performances, in a continuous purposeful and transitional movement that wanders from belief to disbelief regarding the key aspects of our identity and significance.
The contrast is evident in the description of the birth of Tan. In the reading of the text we learn that Tan attended the best schools, and wore the most expensive clothes.
“I was born the son of General Long and the only grandchild of two influential families in China: the Longs, a banking dynasty, and the Xias, a military powerhouse. The two families were as different night and day” (Chen 5).
The role of self dates back to the early philosophers who concentered their thinking to the nature of the soul. In Buddhist philosophy the self was considered to be the stream of thoughts, which supports the image of ones self. It is in this frame that a fair portion of the book is written in the “Hoped-for Self” frame of mind. Harmony, love, strife, morality, and reason all can be viewed as the elements of the bodily existence which propel people toward particular social systems, which, in turn define the elements of the self. This is exactly what Shento does throughout the story by constantly seeking to be more than he is. This can be seen when Shento sets the pace of the story and his own life when he says:
“I outraced her swollen legs and slipped out of her womb just as she struggled toward the fateful precipice. One was left to wonder why she did it, making herself a myth, leaping off the zenith…” (Chen 1).
This event is the theoretical grounding for understanding how and why Shento, as well as Tan,
become active producers of their own developmental process. Once we understand the relevance of one illegitimate son and one legitimate son, we begin to comprehend the developmental outcomes; which either help or hinder the motivational weight of possible self. Both brothers face difficulty after difficulty, but each time these difficulties each brother rises above and beyond what was placed in front of them. The self and society have no substance apart from each other, but are both the makers of a society. This is exactly what Shento achieves within the text of the novel. This can be seen early in the text when Shento realizes that:
“He lived! Should I contact the great general and seek his aid in releasing me from this hellhole? Ding Long had ascended to the highest rank of supremacy. All he had to do was send the order and my life would be forever changed” (Chen 70).
Individual thinkers cannot be truly understood apart from the social and political systems within which these characters live. The variation of each chapter, which is headed by who is telling the narrative, creates a unique discourse. These brothers develop a unique voice as each brother grows into a different path. Each brother exhibits the three main parts of the self: its components, the feelings that are aroused, and the behaviors or responses they prompt. Self-esteem can be viewed, as being created from a supportive relationship between one’s self and one’s conceptualized self.
However, development does not exist in a vacuum. Development of the self and the hoped-for self is conscious and impacted in sociocultural and historical context. Across the text of Chen’s novel one can comprehend the importance of other characters that either help or hinder the development of the self –– within the two main characters. The self is absolutely fundamentally needed to adequately address the motivational factors contributing to any human behavior one wishes to exhibit.
One of the most important “other” characters in Chen’s narrative is that of Sumi. Sumi is caught in a gripping love triangle. Love that is not simply a crush, or a meaningless fling but an overwhelming passion. This passion is, however, may not be exactly as it appears. There appears to be at many levels, through this love, the desire for recognition, the desire of another person when she is clearly the object of two people, and the desire for self. This is very much in thinking to Nietzsche.
“A single individual contains within him a vast confusion of contradictory valuations and consequently of contradictory valuations and consequently of contradictory drives. This is the expression of the diseased condition in man” (Nietzche 147).
The characters sense of “I” is the part of self which acts with reference to others is immediately aware of others’ reactions to the self, and this thinking is along the lines that a person’s sense of me is the reflective self which constantly evaluates and reinvents the “I” sense of self. This sense of self can be seen as being influenced by the common life and purpose of the groups to which they belong within which the self functions. Shento portrays these ideas when he says:
“In pain, I wiped my eyes quickly and stayed low and small like a mountain rat, searching for a hole in the earth where I could hide and survive. But the kicks landed like pelting raindrops. I was defenseless and had little chance…” (Chen 52).
There are three senses of self that is exhibited throughout the text: the conscious, or what a person is aware of during a specific point in time, the preconscious, or information which is beneath the surface of awareness and can be easily retrieved, and finally the unconscious, which is the underlying part of self which contains one’s wishes and expectations. This frame of thinking is a part of Freud’s psychoanalytical theory. This can be seen in the mindset of Sumi when we read:
“I had difficulty touching that dark hole of fear and sadness even now. I had long learned to close the eyes of the mind and face reality –– the life of an abandoned animal within the cage of the orphanage. I learned to swallow all sorrows…” (Chen 276).
Ego, according to Freud, can be compared to one’s current self, while the super ego is constantly responding to external cues and is the moral and ideal “higher ground” to which we aspire. Sumi is the object of desire, and in some instances is reduced to nothing more than an object of desire, as desire is not found in its object, but in the person who is doing the desiring. This can be seen when Sumi, who has her first “chapter” on page 135 says:
“Then you came, an oh, how you emboldened me… I was flooded by your light, your warmth, and the rainbow of you arcing over me, making me safe… I dreamed of a life with you. You, one wheel of a handbarrow. I, the other wheel” (Chen 136).
Sumi’s story is not an easy one to read. There are moments when it seems as if all of her identity comes from the two men who love her. There are instances when Sumi claims her own power, her own identity and her own sense of self. She epitomizes the struggle to balance rationality and irrationality and between conscious awareness and unconscious images and memories. There is a sense of a battle between a self that seeks balance between one’s internal world and the external world, one’s conscious, and unconscious experiences, good and evil, and light and darkness. Sumi attempts to solve the problem of aloneness versus the union with others. This attempt brings about the need to rise above a passive and accidental existence and into the realm of purpose and freedom. Sumi in many ways evolves as a separate “species” as she loses her home in the natural world which requires of her to develop a rootedness, and or a feeling at home in the natural world. She actively relates to the world through a spiritual connectedness resulting in her being whole.
The sense of rhythm within the text helps set the tone in which the self is discovered and is mastered with ease by Chen. Rhythm to Chen is as important as the prose, and the prose reads as poetry. There are no wrong words. The text can be considered a parallel to music: the way a rhythm gives power, to the characters, that cannot be reduced, or described by mere words. This rhythm exists simply because of Chen’s well-made sentences that only transcends time but also genre. Chen’s rhythm is a piece of music that keeps readers turning the page. The structures of the sentences are flawless in their beauty, as well as the balance between narration, descriptions and dialogue.
The position of the narrator can be useful when introducing diversity in the narrative rhythm and Chen does this with the introduction of whom is telling the story at the start of each new chapter. Shifts in the narration can be tricky to achieve seamlessly, but they are a greater tool in enriching the rhythm and tonality of the narrative. Clarity is a high virtue, but so is beauty; and increasingly it is from the varying length and sentence structures that the writer achieves voice, rhythm, emphasis, and even musicality.
Variation works because we naturally vary our speaking rhythm when we are emotionally connected to what we are saying. This is obvious when a character is upset and empathetic, but syntactical variation works well to convey any strong feeling. Rhythmic sentences can sing to us, perhaps even move our emotions to an ancient language, culture and music; which can be, if done correctly, epic. As writers we want to balance our scenes using three elements: dialogue, action and narration. Scenes that weave these elements together engage a reader at an emotional level. One example of this artistry is:
“Shento’s army open fired on the crowd, first randomly, then targeted locations. The dead lay in pools of blood. The living cried, trying to save the dying. Youthful hearts sank with the burden of death as their worst fears were realized… Bullets rained down like an angry storm” (Chen 384).
The scene wouldn’t have had the same impact if the author had woven action and narrative throughout the dialogue. This is a fast paced scene, but Chen shows us that there is so much more to this scene than just the actions. There are repercussions to the actions committed and Chen wants our focus to be on those events as well. As you can see, this passage is very effective without the narrative bogging down the moment. This is writing at its most powerful. Narrative explains, and dialogue says it. Chen chooses words carefully and poetically to produce a compelling story along with the discovery of the Hoped-for Self.
If I have learned one thing from reading Brothers, it is words are just as important to tell the story if not more important than the story. Chen has an ease with painting the scene, the characters, the narration and even the outcome that I would like to achieve in my own writing, and the way that I think about writing.
Works Cited
Chen, Da. Brothers. Ed. Shaye Areheart. 5. New York City: Three Rivers Press, 2007.
Nietzche, Fredrick. The Will to Power. Ed. Walter Kaufmann. New York: Vintage Edition Books Edition, 1967.
Da Chen in his novel Brothers sows seeds of beauty that flourish and abound in a book filled with memorable hardships and glorious triumphs. Brothers explores the role of social influences in the development of the self, the social comparisons of Shento and Tan –– two estranged brothers who take conflicting sides in China’s Cultural Revolution. Within the Revolution is the timeframe when the shooting at Tiananmen Square takes place; which is dealt within the narrative. This conflict starts at the beginning of their lives when Shento’s mother:
“Gave birth to me meant to end it all, not just her life, but also mine, right at the moment of my sunrise. She was in a hurry to leap off the cliff atop Mount Balan…” (Chen 1).
This young mother commits suicide because her lover General Long will not acknowledge their illegitimate son. This imposed and unwanted suicide by the mother –– of mother and son –– sets into place the forces which will shape Shento’s sense of self and one’s possible self. Some could argue that as early as Shento’s infancy, he called the attention of others and others consciously affect him before he himself consciously affects his identity of self. This image of his “self” is created by others while those images of “self” are then embraced. Shento, much like us, has a self in whom he portrays to others but also has a self which belongs to others and which is shaped by others attributions about him. It can be argued that we have a truer self, in which is the self one would like to be within one’s unique path; which views us as involved, through our social performances, in a continuous purposeful and transitional movement that wanders from belief to disbelief regarding the key aspects of our identity and significance.
The contrast is evident in the description of the birth of Tan. In the reading of the text we learn that Tan attended the best schools, and wore the most expensive clothes.
“I was born the son of General Long and the only grandchild of two influential families in China: the Longs, a banking dynasty, and the Xias, a military powerhouse. The two families were as different night and day” (Chen 5).
The role of self dates back to the early philosophers who concentered their thinking to the nature of the soul. In Buddhist philosophy the self was considered to be the stream of thoughts, which supports the image of ones self. It is in this frame that a fair portion of the book is written in the “Hoped-for Self” frame of mind. Harmony, love, strife, morality, and reason all can be viewed as the elements of the bodily existence which propel people toward particular social systems, which, in turn define the elements of the self. This is exactly what Shento does throughout the story by constantly seeking to be more than he is. This can be seen when Shento sets the pace of the story and his own life when he says:
“I outraced her swollen legs and slipped out of her womb just as she struggled toward the fateful precipice. One was left to wonder why she did it, making herself a myth, leaping off the zenith…” (Chen 1).
This event is the theoretical grounding for understanding how and why Shento, as well as Tan,
become active producers of their own developmental process. Once we understand the relevance of one illegitimate son and one legitimate son, we begin to comprehend the developmental outcomes; which either help or hinder the motivational weight of possible self. Both brothers face difficulty after difficulty, but each time these difficulties each brother rises above and beyond what was placed in front of them. The self and society have no substance apart from each other, but are both the makers of a society. This is exactly what Shento achieves within the text of the novel. This can be seen early in the text when Shento realizes that:
“He lived! Should I contact the great general and seek his aid in releasing me from this hellhole? Ding Long had ascended to the highest rank of supremacy. All he had to do was send the order and my life would be forever changed” (Chen 70).
Individual thinkers cannot be truly understood apart from the social and political systems within which these characters live. The variation of each chapter, which is headed by who is telling the narrative, creates a unique discourse. These brothers develop a unique voice as each brother grows into a different path. Each brother exhibits the three main parts of the self: its components, the feelings that are aroused, and the behaviors or responses they prompt. Self-esteem can be viewed, as being created from a supportive relationship between one’s self and one’s conceptualized self.
However, development does not exist in a vacuum. Development of the self and the hoped-for self is conscious and impacted in sociocultural and historical context. Across the text of Chen’s novel one can comprehend the importance of other characters that either help or hinder the development of the self –– within the two main characters. The self is absolutely fundamentally needed to adequately address the motivational factors contributing to any human behavior one wishes to exhibit.
One of the most important “other” characters in Chen’s narrative is that of Sumi. Sumi is caught in a gripping love triangle. Love that is not simply a crush, or a meaningless fling but an overwhelming passion. This passion is, however, may not be exactly as it appears. There appears to be at many levels, through this love, the desire for recognition, the desire of another person when she is clearly the object of two people, and the desire for self. This is very much in thinking to Nietzsche.
“A single individual contains within him a vast confusion of contradictory valuations and consequently of contradictory valuations and consequently of contradictory drives. This is the expression of the diseased condition in man” (Nietzche 147).
The characters sense of “I” is the part of self which acts with reference to others is immediately aware of others’ reactions to the self, and this thinking is along the lines that a person’s sense of me is the reflective self which constantly evaluates and reinvents the “I” sense of self. This sense of self can be seen as being influenced by the common life and purpose of the groups to which they belong within which the self functions. Shento portrays these ideas when he says:
“In pain, I wiped my eyes quickly and stayed low and small like a mountain rat, searching for a hole in the earth where I could hide and survive. But the kicks landed like pelting raindrops. I was defenseless and had little chance…” (Chen 52).
There are three senses of self that is exhibited throughout the text: the conscious, or what a person is aware of during a specific point in time, the preconscious, or information which is beneath the surface of awareness and can be easily retrieved, and finally the unconscious, which is the underlying part of self which contains one’s wishes and expectations. This frame of thinking is a part of Freud’s psychoanalytical theory. This can be seen in the mindset of Sumi when we read:
“I had difficulty touching that dark hole of fear and sadness even now. I had long learned to close the eyes of the mind and face reality –– the life of an abandoned animal within the cage of the orphanage. I learned to swallow all sorrows…” (Chen 276).
Ego, according to Freud, can be compared to one’s current self, while the super ego is constantly responding to external cues and is the moral and ideal “higher ground” to which we aspire. Sumi is the object of desire, and in some instances is reduced to nothing more than an object of desire, as desire is not found in its object, but in the person who is doing the desiring. This can be seen when Sumi, who has her first “chapter” on page 135 says:
“Then you came, an oh, how you emboldened me… I was flooded by your light, your warmth, and the rainbow of you arcing over me, making me safe… I dreamed of a life with you. You, one wheel of a handbarrow. I, the other wheel” (Chen 136).
Sumi’s story is not an easy one to read. There are moments when it seems as if all of her identity comes from the two men who love her. There are instances when Sumi claims her own power, her own identity and her own sense of self. She epitomizes the struggle to balance rationality and irrationality and between conscious awareness and unconscious images and memories. There is a sense of a battle between a self that seeks balance between one’s internal world and the external world, one’s conscious, and unconscious experiences, good and evil, and light and darkness. Sumi attempts to solve the problem of aloneness versus the union with others. This attempt brings about the need to rise above a passive and accidental existence and into the realm of purpose and freedom. Sumi in many ways evolves as a separate “species” as she loses her home in the natural world which requires of her to develop a rootedness, and or a feeling at home in the natural world. She actively relates to the world through a spiritual connectedness resulting in her being whole.
The sense of rhythm within the text helps set the tone in which the self is discovered and is mastered with ease by Chen. Rhythm to Chen is as important as the prose, and the prose reads as poetry. There are no wrong words. The text can be considered a parallel to music: the way a rhythm gives power, to the characters, that cannot be reduced, or described by mere words. This rhythm exists simply because of Chen’s well-made sentences that only transcends time but also genre. Chen’s rhythm is a piece of music that keeps readers turning the page. The structures of the sentences are flawless in their beauty, as well as the balance between narration, descriptions and dialogue.
The position of the narrator can be useful when introducing diversity in the narrative rhythm and Chen does this with the introduction of whom is telling the story at the start of each new chapter. Shifts in the narration can be tricky to achieve seamlessly, but they are a greater tool in enriching the rhythm and tonality of the narrative. Clarity is a high virtue, but so is beauty; and increasingly it is from the varying length and sentence structures that the writer achieves voice, rhythm, emphasis, and even musicality.
Variation works because we naturally vary our speaking rhythm when we are emotionally connected to what we are saying. This is obvious when a character is upset and empathetic, but syntactical variation works well to convey any strong feeling. Rhythmic sentences can sing to us, perhaps even move our emotions to an ancient language, culture and music; which can be, if done correctly, epic. As writers we want to balance our scenes using three elements: dialogue, action and narration. Scenes that weave these elements together engage a reader at an emotional level. One example of this artistry is:
“Shento’s army open fired on the crowd, first randomly, then targeted locations. The dead lay in pools of blood. The living cried, trying to save the dying. Youthful hearts sank with the burden of death as their worst fears were realized… Bullets rained down like an angry storm” (Chen 384).
The scene wouldn’t have had the same impact if the author had woven action and narrative throughout the dialogue. This is a fast paced scene, but Chen shows us that there is so much more to this scene than just the actions. There are repercussions to the actions committed and Chen wants our focus to be on those events as well. As you can see, this passage is very effective without the narrative bogging down the moment. This is writing at its most powerful. Narrative explains, and dialogue says it. Chen chooses words carefully and poetically to produce a compelling story along with the discovery of the Hoped-for Self.
If I have learned one thing from reading Brothers, it is words are just as important to tell the story if not more important than the story. Chen has an ease with painting the scene, the characters, the narration and even the outcome that I would like to achieve in my own writing, and the way that I think about writing.
Works Cited
Chen, Da. Brothers. Ed. Shaye Areheart. 5. New York City: Three Rivers Press, 2007.
Nietzche, Fredrick. The Will to Power. Ed. Walter Kaufmann. New York: Vintage Edition Books Edition, 1967.
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