A Paradise Lost - KOPS - Universität Konstanz
A Paradise Lost - KOPS - Universität Konstanz
A Paradise Lost - KOPS - Universität Konstanz
Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
icepaper airplane he labors to build from bicycle parts and other insufficient materials.<br />
Finally, he accidentally causes a fire that destroys his almost-completed work.<br />
Sung Wha’s middle years are brushed aside when the narrative leaps ahead to his<br />
last years in a rundown Honolulu Chinatown hotel. When the assortment of poor retirees<br />
and homosexuals is threatened with eviction, his rebellious spirit leads him to join the<br />
young protesters against urban development. He tires of this last struggle, and finally “he<br />
is free, his covenant with the world now completed. […] Now perhaps he can fly” (227).<br />
When Sung Wha dies in the middle of speaking about the burnt-up airplane, his nephew<br />
has made a kite from bamboo and ricepaper, ready to release the uncle’s spirit. Gratefully,<br />
he has told the old man: “you make me live in another world, your world. It feels good<br />
listening to you because when I listen to you, I’m not sitting on this metal chair in this<br />
hospital anymore, but I’m over there. […] I even have a few bruises from your fights”<br />
(259-60). One can conclude that in Pak’s fictional cosmos, the younger generation is able<br />
to make sense of and profit from their elders’ experience. This resonates with his reason<br />
for taking up writing in 1980:<br />
There were many stories to be told in Hawai’i, in my family, in the community,<br />
and they were important stories. Looking at my son who was just born, I felt that<br />
maybe we should write these stories down, commit them to paper, so that my son<br />
and others would be able to read them and have that as part of their cultural<br />
experience. 315<br />
This historiographic impulse to contribute to Hawaii’s multi-layered culture for the sake<br />
of the coming generations is a frequent feature of Local writers’ works.<br />
Chris McKinney’s The Queen of Tears, by contrast, can be read as a testament to<br />
the failure of communicating the past. Soong, a sixty-year old widow and former Korean<br />
movie star, returns to Hawai’i to attend her son’s wedding. All of her children, two<br />
daughters and a son, have found themselves in relationships and situations they are<br />
uncomfortable with. The groom, who marries a tough stripper, cannot live up to his own<br />
expectations, while the oldest daughter is stuck in a loveless marriage, concerned about<br />
her geek seventeen-year old son, somehow afraid of life itself. The youngest has come to<br />
a dead end studying literature, feeling that she is too removed from real life. Observing<br />
315 Brenda Kwon, “Interview with Gary Pak,” in King-Kok Cheung (ed.), Words Matter: Conversations<br />
with Asian American Writers, Honolulu 2000: 303-19, here 304.<br />
108