On Becoming an American

Book Review: Russian Tattoo: A Memoir by Elena Gorokhova

With rare exceptions, we are a nation of immigrants. It seems to be part of the American consciousness that we conveniently forget that fact within a generation or two.

We forget how our grandparents or great-grandparents struggled to learn a new language, a language full of secret idioms and unspoken meanings. We forget how they worked to fit in with a new and different culture that is itself a mixture of many cultures. We forget how they labored at menial and poorly paying jobs, no matter what their education might have been, because the language and cultural differences threw up walls against them.

Elena Gorokhova's Russian Tattoo serves to remind us of those things that we have chosen to forget on the road to becoming Americans. The twin barriers of language and culture mark the immigrant as clearly and visibly as a tattoo, a label of difference and strangeness that closes the doors of opportunity. Coming to America has given all of us a chance to start our lives over, and that is exactly what is required. Whoever and whatever you were before you arrived: a doctor, a lawyer, a scientist - is largely wiped away and you will find yourself washing dishes or waiting tables, trying to learn English from people who speak louder and slower to make you understand.

Russian Tattoo is the story of this American rite of passage as seen from the inside. Elena Gorokhova's journey is the journey that our own immigrant relatives took, as much as we want to deny it. OUR forebears learned English immediately, and were tax-paying contributing members of society within a month of getting off the boat - or so our romantic notions would have it. The fact is, my immigrant great-grandfather worked in an auto factory, was a truck driver, and English was a second language to his native German. His son - my great uncle - was a United States Marine who served in the Ardennes in World War One. Sometimes it takes a generation or two to achieve American-hood.

With each new wave of immigrants, those of us who are already here inevitably push back against the would-be new arrivals. Russian Tattoo lets us see that from the viewpoint of someone who was on the receiving end; not as a search for sympathy but simply understanding. The road to becoming an American is not an easy one, getting here is only half the battle. We all have our own tattoos, maybe it's time to acknowledge them.

(ed. This review was originally published January 25, 2015)

Of Love and War and Immigration

Book Review: Their Promised Land by Ian Buruma

Immigration is a hot button topic right now, liable to induce polarized opinions in just about any audience. Their Promised Land steers a middle course, generally avoiding the shores of politics and the shoals and rocks that surround them, favoring the depths of the subtitle My Grandparents in Love and War

But the immigrant status of the family is always there, a bulking shadow just over the horizon, barely hidden in the fog of two world wars and the unsettled years between them. Ethnic families tried to avoid the latent prejudice by Anglicizing their last names. Jews adopted Christianity in an attempt to avoid the 'stigma' of being different. Author Ian Buruma doesn't ignore the elephant in the room, but in his occasional sidelong glances in its direction he makes it impossible to ignore.

That is a good thing. Immigration has ALWAYS been a hot button topic, laden with unacknowledged racism and prejudice. Each successive wave of immigrants in the United States has faced a backlash from those who have arrived before them; seemingly oblivious to the fact that unless you are 100% Native American, we are all immigrants here. Their Promised Land takes place in England in the first half of the twentieth century, but it could just as well be anywhere, at any time.

Despite this, Buruma keeps us focused on the fact that these are just two people, trying to make a life for themselves and raise a family. The universal principle at work here is not that prejudice is always with us, but that people go on in spite of it. That is where our hope lies.

Searching for One Voice Among the Many

Book Review: The House of Journalists by Tim Finch

The issue of immigration, both legal and illegal, can be complex: convoluted, complicated, and confusing. Tim Finch's The House of Journalists, is equal parts of all of these, but does little to shed any light on the subject.

Focusing on the stories of refugees seeking political asylum, Finch gives us an accurate portrayal of the past terrors, present lives, and uncertain futures these individuals must confront. Mixed in with the often horrific tales of death and torture in their home countries, Finch allows us glimpses of the idyll of their safe home in the House of Journalists, a halfway house for members of the third world fifth estate. Underlying the seeming calm of the House, however, is the implicit threat of deportation. In their new country, the journalists are at the mercy of a faceless government where humanitarian concerns often take a backseat to political expediency.

So far, so good. Where House of Journalists fails is in the telling. The straightforward synopsis I have given above is anything but straightforward in the book. Multiple voices weave through the chapters, shifting from first person to second person to third person, often without a clear indication of who is speaking. At times Finch uses this effectively, but for the most part it simply adds an impenetrable layer of complexity, and the story gets lost in infinite folds of plot.

I believe a more conventional rendering of House of Journalists would have been much more effective. While I'm sure Tim Finch had a lot of fun writing this, it is not as much fun to read. There is a great story lurking in here, but instead of freeing it, Finch has buried it in an effort to be clever. A good first effort - I hope he finds his true voice among the many he presents us here.