Status Updates From The Translator's Daughter: ...
The Translator's Daughter: A Memoir by
Status Updates Showing 1-30 of 63
Wren
is on page 237 of 268
“Maybe the language where I live is not the end point but an interval - a rest stop on the way home.”
— May 20, 2025 06:44PM
Add a comment
Wren
is on page 140 of 268
“I am the eternal daughter, destined to go back and forth between my husband in California and my parents in Taiwan, between the life consciously chosen and the collective unconscious that claims me, an unbreakable thread connecting me to my ancestors. I live in a constant state of longing to be reunited with Demeter-my mother, motherland, mother tongue. My life is defined by this rupture.”
— May 19, 2025 06:03PM
Add a comment
Wren
is on page 139 of 268
“I have bizarre sensation of going forward in linear time yet backward in consciousness, reaching for a distant, earlier version of myself that once felt at home here.”
— May 19, 2025 06:01PM
Add a comment
Wren
is on page 94 of 268
It’s interesting that there are a few Asian American memoirs whose titles are focused not on the author but their parents. “Manicurist’s Daughter”, “Translator’s Daughter”.
— May 19, 2025 05:39PM
Add a comment
Wren
is on page 79 of 268
“I wasn’t used to hearing my parents fight; when they did it was usually in Taiwanese. I wondered if they were speaking English only because I was there.”
The whole switch to the commonly understood language in the group is too real
— May 19, 2025 05:31PM
Add a comment
The whole switch to the commonly understood language in the group is too real
Wren
is on page 70 of 268
“I lost my native tongue, but I gained freedom of speech.”
— May 19, 2025 05:22PM
Add a comment
Eunhae Han
is on page 68 of 268
This failure brings a feeling of shock and anguish, like realizing you can't quite conjure up the face of a loved one. It is blank where there ought to be something meaningful, and—you imag-ine-unforgettable, and before long, you distance yourself from it, give up, as if those memories were someone else's and not your own.
— May 17, 2025 02:39PM
Add a comment
Eunhae Han
is on page 68 of 268
It plays like the music of dreams, a sweet melody from childhood that is clear and complete and comforting, but it fades so quickly upon waking that you are surprised by the loss of what seemed so familiar. What was a symphony is reduced to a few haunting notes, from which you try in vain to recreate the whole.
— May 17, 2025 02:38PM
Add a comment










