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Baba: A Return To China Upon My Father's Shoulders
The author retells her father's experiences growing up in China in the 1930s and 1940s
240 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 1994
2 people are currently reading
51 people want to read
About the author
Belle Yang
21 books16 followers"My Chinese name is Xuan, or "Forget-All-Sorrow." It is also Chinese for "lily of a day," notes Belle Yang. "If life spans a mere day, why spend it in worry?" Indeed, the author-illustrator of HANNAH IS MY NAME recalls a seemingly worry-free childhood in Taiwan and Japan, where she "doodled and fiddled around with words and discovered they were her life."
Now an author and painter, Belle Yang has developed a remarkable style that draws on her rich cultural background, influenced not only by childhood memories of Taiwan and Japan and her experience of immigrating to the United States at age seven, but also by her studies in Scotland and China. It was Belle Yang's homecoming from China to the U.S. after the Tiananmen Massacre that precipitated a new dedication to her art. "I returned with gratitude in my heart for the freedom of expression given me in America," she says. "I returned convinced that I would firmly grasp this gift with both hands." And since officially becoming an artist "sometime in the early nineties," Belle Yang's work has consistently garnered widespread acclaim for its vividness and authenticity. Notes Amy Tan, author of THE JOY LUCK CLUB, "Belle Yang is an American writer who writes in English and thinks in Chinese. Her writing feels Chinese. . . . It is as though we, the readers of English, can now miraculously read Chinese."
Belle Yang's latest book perfectly captures the essence of this Chinese-American fusion. HANNAH IS MY NAME is an immigrant story especially close to the author's own: "HANNAH IS MY NAME is based on our first years in San Francisco," she says. "I missed my old friends and teacher, but it was not a miserable yearning. It was a great privilege to come to the United States, and we didn't look back." Like the author, Hannah and her family move from Taiwan to San Francisco, where she takes a new name, begins a new school, learns a new language, and starts to adjust to a new way of life. Illuminated by Chinese-influenced paintings in jewel-like colors, Belle Yang's immigration tale represents one of the many facets of the American dream.
Belle Yang has written and illustrated four books and has participated in solo museum shows. She lives in California.
Now an author and painter, Belle Yang has developed a remarkable style that draws on her rich cultural background, influenced not only by childhood memories of Taiwan and Japan and her experience of immigrating to the United States at age seven, but also by her studies in Scotland and China. It was Belle Yang's homecoming from China to the U.S. after the Tiananmen Massacre that precipitated a new dedication to her art. "I returned with gratitude in my heart for the freedom of expression given me in America," she says. "I returned convinced that I would firmly grasp this gift with both hands." And since officially becoming an artist "sometime in the early nineties," Belle Yang's work has consistently garnered widespread acclaim for its vividness and authenticity. Notes Amy Tan, author of THE JOY LUCK CLUB, "Belle Yang is an American writer who writes in English and thinks in Chinese. Her writing feels Chinese. . . . It is as though we, the readers of English, can now miraculously read Chinese."
Belle Yang's latest book perfectly captures the essence of this Chinese-American fusion. HANNAH IS MY NAME is an immigrant story especially close to the author's own: "HANNAH IS MY NAME is based on our first years in San Francisco," she says. "I missed my old friends and teacher, but it was not a miserable yearning. It was a great privilege to come to the United States, and we didn't look back." Like the author, Hannah and her family move from Taiwan to San Francisco, where she takes a new name, begins a new school, learns a new language, and starts to adjust to a new way of life. Illuminated by Chinese-influenced paintings in jewel-like colors, Belle Yang's immigration tale represents one of the many facets of the American dream.
Belle Yang has written and illustrated four books and has participated in solo museum shows. She lives in California.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
February 18, 2019
Ms. Yang's incredible presentation of her father's early history, peppered with short anecdotes and fairy tales that he was told as a boy, gives a vivid picture of a China in the 1920s and early 1930s. Known as Fourth son, Baba (Daddy) contends with a life of growing up in a large multi generational compound. His father was the eldest son of his generation and has retreated home to meditate for enlightenment. Ms. Yang's grandfather had spent his energy on his older sons and has little time or money to spend on Baba. Despite this and perhaps fueled by his mother's gentleness, Baba has the grit to pursue an education in the teeth of family disinterest.
Ms. Yang's illustrations are vivid and colorful and add a lot to the books appeal.
Invasions affect them all. First, the Japanese arrive in the early 1930s. Then, the bandits run wild until World War II and the Americans arrive. The book ends with a bit of a cliff hanger but fortunately, I have read the next book: "The Odyssey of a Manchurian".
Ms. Yang's illustrations are vivid and colorful and add a lot to the books appeal.
Invasions affect them all. First, the Japanese arrive in the early 1930s. Then, the bandits run wild until World War II and the Americans arrive. The book ends with a bit of a cliff hanger but fortunately, I have read the next book: "The Odyssey of a Manchurian".
November 27, 2011
My main complaint is that the word "upon" could have been replaced with "on" many times throughout this book.
"After each venture into a segment of that landscape, we were able to step forth into the haven of the present, to breath and to rest."
"In their very artlessness they captured life more directly than any attempt at careful imitation could ever do."
"Down the craw and into the maw of the subterranean storage space they tumbled."
"He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, yet he could not, his thoughts drifting to his mother, a solitary woman defending a darkened house."
"On summer afternoons, the husband did little more than sit in the east end of the cottage, where a feisty little breeze pushed in through the open window."
"lucky days for raising roof beams and moving furniture."
"artists breather upon their brushes to keep the pigments from freezing upon the hairs as they painted murals."
"He removed his hat and, with the palm of his right hand, briskly brushed back his head of stiff, bristly hair. This motion allowed the yangqi, positive human energy, to flow forth, suppressing the yinqi, the negative energy possessed by demons."
"The last harvest of the year! It'll make your tongues curl and your eyeballs roll!"
"Baba glimpsed a talisman, a small fish carved from green jade, as it was being placed inside the dead man's mouth; this was to ensure prosperity in the next world."
"In the meantime, the eldest son had lost no time in climbing up to the rooftop on a ladder, and he could now he heard crowing instructions to the dead."
"The centuries of incense smoke had painted the interior as lightless as the inside of a black velvet sack."
"Now, when a man falls sick, friends and relatives feverishly pray to Heaven and Earth for his return to vigor; conversely, when a man is dead, no friend or relative would wish the corpse to step out and strut about again."
"a taste of sunlight upon his tongue."
"Big thirsty cows are for women...like when neighbor Ding's wife died and they provided her with one in the afterlife so that it would drink up all the water -- all the water she may have wasted in her lifetime of cooking and cleaning."
"Nattily attired in a Western suit and sporting a tweed cap, he frequented the restaurants that catered mouthwatering delicacies such as "lion's head," "pork potstickers with silver ears," and "mutton hot pot."
"How did she come to terms with her layers of regret for the days of fulfillment that came to others as naturally as sunlight and wind?"
"Hard-boiled eyes embedded in a green face had stared her down."
"Holding the emptied rice bowl, she would extend her bony forearm out from under the hump and croak,"Give us more grub!"
"Crack! The smell of sulfur. A man had lit a match. "Open up your mouth, you old demon!" said he. The woman obeyed like a child. The man tossed the flaming matchstick into her wide-open mouth. "There, tell me what it is!" the man demanded. Baba could hear the snap of the matchstick as the old woman bit down with her few remaining teeth. "Well, come now -- tell me what it is!" "Ha ha! What it is? What it is? I'll tell you what it is! It's the stem of a scrumptious pear."
Upon the length that extended out of the case was written the extravagant sum "One hundred yuan," followed by his own name: "Yang the Incorruptible."
"Baba tied his donkey to a fence post and walked up to the house, with its gently rounded roof -- the overall shape like a thick loaf of bread, the design typical of Manchuria."
"Baba sat on the kang, admiring the New Year prints. "How bright and friendly they are," he said to himself. "When I get a chance, I'd like to paint something in those colors."
"A slap to the noggin of the "stupid squash" would emphasize his point."
"Third Son is a bit of a cabbagehead," she said."
"At the stern of the spectral boat hovered the figure of a man, whose milky blue face was swollen as tight as a drum; from his long, disheveled hair rolled beads of brown water."
"He only laughed as if the wind had addled his brain."
"After each venture into a segment of that landscape, we were able to step forth into the haven of the present, to breath and to rest."
"In their very artlessness they captured life more directly than any attempt at careful imitation could ever do."
"Down the craw and into the maw of the subterranean storage space they tumbled."
"He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, yet he could not, his thoughts drifting to his mother, a solitary woman defending a darkened house."
"On summer afternoons, the husband did little more than sit in the east end of the cottage, where a feisty little breeze pushed in through the open window."
"lucky days for raising roof beams and moving furniture."
"artists breather upon their brushes to keep the pigments from freezing upon the hairs as they painted murals."
"He removed his hat and, with the palm of his right hand, briskly brushed back his head of stiff, bristly hair. This motion allowed the yangqi, positive human energy, to flow forth, suppressing the yinqi, the negative energy possessed by demons."
"The last harvest of the year! It'll make your tongues curl and your eyeballs roll!"
"Baba glimpsed a talisman, a small fish carved from green jade, as it was being placed inside the dead man's mouth; this was to ensure prosperity in the next world."
"In the meantime, the eldest son had lost no time in climbing up to the rooftop on a ladder, and he could now he heard crowing instructions to the dead."
"The centuries of incense smoke had painted the interior as lightless as the inside of a black velvet sack."
"Now, when a man falls sick, friends and relatives feverishly pray to Heaven and Earth for his return to vigor; conversely, when a man is dead, no friend or relative would wish the corpse to step out and strut about again."
"a taste of sunlight upon his tongue."
"Big thirsty cows are for women...like when neighbor Ding's wife died and they provided her with one in the afterlife so that it would drink up all the water -- all the water she may have wasted in her lifetime of cooking and cleaning."
"Nattily attired in a Western suit and sporting a tweed cap, he frequented the restaurants that catered mouthwatering delicacies such as "lion's head," "pork potstickers with silver ears," and "mutton hot pot."
"How did she come to terms with her layers of regret for the days of fulfillment that came to others as naturally as sunlight and wind?"
"Hard-boiled eyes embedded in a green face had stared her down."
"Holding the emptied rice bowl, she would extend her bony forearm out from under the hump and croak,"Give us more grub!"
"Crack! The smell of sulfur. A man had lit a match. "Open up your mouth, you old demon!" said he. The woman obeyed like a child. The man tossed the flaming matchstick into her wide-open mouth. "There, tell me what it is!" the man demanded. Baba could hear the snap of the matchstick as the old woman bit down with her few remaining teeth. "Well, come now -- tell me what it is!" "Ha ha! What it is? What it is? I'll tell you what it is! It's the stem of a scrumptious pear."
Upon the length that extended out of the case was written the extravagant sum "One hundred yuan," followed by his own name: "Yang the Incorruptible."
"Baba tied his donkey to a fence post and walked up to the house, with its gently rounded roof -- the overall shape like a thick loaf of bread, the design typical of Manchuria."
"Baba sat on the kang, admiring the New Year prints. "How bright and friendly they are," he said to himself. "When I get a chance, I'd like to paint something in those colors."
"A slap to the noggin of the "stupid squash" would emphasize his point."
"Third Son is a bit of a cabbagehead," she said."
"At the stern of the spectral boat hovered the figure of a man, whose milky blue face was swollen as tight as a drum; from his long, disheveled hair rolled beads of brown water."
"He only laughed as if the wind had addled his brain."
August 10, 2014
Stories about Yang's father's experience growing up in Manchuria. Most occur during the Japanese occupation (1931-45), with a few at the end discussing the Russian invasion and the Chinese Civil War that came after.
First, this is a beautifully produced book. Each story has an accompanying artistic print illustrating the work, and the quality of paper is the highest I've ever seen in a mass-produced paperback (and I know my materials...) Yang obviously wanted to honor her father with the highest-quality materials she could find.
The stories are mostly engaging as well, and many give great insight into what it was like to grow up in that period. However, at times it seems that Yang is trying too hard to make her prose come alive in that particularly magical cinematic way that Akira Kurosawa or Guiseppe Tornatore were able to evoke in their films of the period; often, the prose just seems to be flowery for its own sake, and some of the stories end too abruptly. In other places, however - especially the beginning and the end - she succeeds beautifully, and evokes a vibrant, albeit highly stylized, picture of what life was like in that time.
I suppose I could say that I wanted to like this book more than I actually did, because she's obviously put a lot of effort into it and the production is beautiful. Ultimately, though, I think that though Yang 'hits' more often than not, this work overall is still more hit or miss than I was hoping it would be.
First, this is a beautifully produced book. Each story has an accompanying artistic print illustrating the work, and the quality of paper is the highest I've ever seen in a mass-produced paperback (and I know my materials...) Yang obviously wanted to honor her father with the highest-quality materials she could find.
The stories are mostly engaging as well, and many give great insight into what it was like to grow up in that period. However, at times it seems that Yang is trying too hard to make her prose come alive in that particularly magical cinematic way that Akira Kurosawa or Guiseppe Tornatore were able to evoke in their films of the period; often, the prose just seems to be flowery for its own sake, and some of the stories end too abruptly. In other places, however - especially the beginning and the end - she succeeds beautifully, and evokes a vibrant, albeit highly stylized, picture of what life was like in that time.
I suppose I could say that I wanted to like this book more than I actually did, because she's obviously put a lot of effort into it and the production is beautiful. Ultimately, though, I think that though Yang 'hits' more often than not, this work overall is still more hit or miss than I was hoping it would be.
August 10, 2025
BOUGHT 2025
I might like Yang's books - she has written 2 volumes of a projected trilogy:
Baba [1994]- illus. with nice woodcuts-- and
The Odyssey of a Manchurian [1996].
YES, 'Baba' is a nice book to read. Physically VERY HEAVY so am leaving behind in Portland [Rhonda's].
I managed to read most of it while in Portland.
Author records for us the many stories her father [later in life] told her about his childhood [and young adulthood?] in China's Northeast. Mainly in the 1930s and 1940s, so under the Japanese occupation. Occasional mentions of effects for them of Japanese being there. 'Baba' seems to have been born a few years before James.
Their village, XINMIN is very close to SHENYANG. SHANTUOZI village, not much further away, is their ancestral village. For some reason Author's father was often delegated to represent the family, perhaps on long and tedious ritual journeys/sojourns that no one else wanted to do? Anyway, he clearly SAW and HEARD a whole lot of interesting things.
I might like Yang's books - she has written 2 volumes of a projected trilogy:
Baba [1994]- illus. with nice woodcuts-- and
The Odyssey of a Manchurian [1996].
YES, 'Baba' is a nice book to read. Physically VERY HEAVY so am leaving behind in Portland [Rhonda's].
I managed to read most of it while in Portland.
Author records for us the many stories her father [later in life] told her about his childhood [and young adulthood?] in China's Northeast. Mainly in the 1930s and 1940s, so under the Japanese occupation. Occasional mentions of effects for them of Japanese being there. 'Baba' seems to have been born a few years before James.
Their village, XINMIN is very close to SHENYANG. SHANTUOZI village, not much further away, is their ancestral village. For some reason Author's father was often delegated to represent the family, perhaps on long and tedious ritual journeys/sojourns that no one else wanted to do? Anyway, he clearly SAW and HEARD a whole lot of interesting things.
February 14, 2012
Glorious, vibrant illustrations leap off the page and dance into your imagination. This book of tales from Ms. Yang's father's childhood during 1930's-40's provides a glimpse into old China. This book is perfect for reading next to a blazing fireplace on a silent, winter day. Her stories immerse the reader in that time and place with the sights, sounds, and scents. I think that Baba, The Odyssey of a Manchurian, and Forget Sorrow form a trilogy. They're beautifu, movingl works.
May 23, 2007
the author tells of her father's life in Manchuria China and how things changed during the Japanese occupation. This book has fantastic watercolors and wood cut prints by the author, one for each chapter.
October 31, 2007
Belle Yang writes in a way that is lyrical, yet descriptive. She has a gift for bringing the actual feeling of "being Chinese" into the English world. The illustrations and woodcuts are lovely to look at. This book would make a wonderful gift.
September 5, 2010
Delightful art and engrossing stories.
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September 26, 2014Fiction Y222b 1994
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews