Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Mark your calendars! Frank Chin's new book Confessions of a Number One Son will be released March 31, 2015. It is now ready for pre-order at Amazon.com: hardback or paperback. Don't forget to checkout the facebook site too. Oh, and another thing. If you happen to cross paths with Frank Chin, wish him a happy birthday. It's today!
at 1:39 AM
Monday, January 26, 2015
Happy New Year, Everybody! Exciting news. Frank Chin's new novel (edited by Calvin McMillin) is coming out this year. It is titled The Confessions of a Number One Son: The Great Chinese American Novel. Here are some details:
In the early 1970s, Frank Chin, the outspoken Chinese American author of such plays as The Chickencoop Chinaman and The Year of the Dragon, wrote a full-length novel that was never published and presumably lost. Nearly four decades later, Calvin McMillin, a literary scholar specializing in Asian American literature, would discover Chin’s original manuscripts and embark on an extensive restoration project. Meticulously reassembled from multiple extant drafts, Frank Chin’s “forgotten” novel is a sequel to The Chickencoop Chinaman and follows the further misadventures of Tam Lum, the original play’s witty protagonist.
Haunted by the bitter memories of a failed marriage and the untimely death of a beloved family member, Tam flees San Francisco’s Chinatown for a life of self-imposed exile on the Hawaiian island of Maui. After burning his sole copy of a manuscript he believed would someday be hailed as “The Great Chinese American Novel,” Tam stumbles into an unlikely romance with Lily, a former nun fresh out of the convent and looking for love. In the process, he also develops an unusual friendship with Lily’s father, a washed-up Hollywood actor once famous for portraying Charlie Chan on the big screen. Thanks in no small part to this bizarre father/daughter pair, not to mention an array of equally quirky locals, Tam soon discovers that his otherwise laidback island existence has been transformed into a farce of epic proportions.
Had it been published in the 1970s as originally intended, The Confessions of a Number One Son might have changed the face of Asian American literature as we know it. Written at the height of Frank Chin’s creative powers, this formerly “lost” novel ranks as the author’s funniest, most powerful, and most poignant work to date. Now, some forty years after its initial conception, The Confessions of a Number One Son is finally available to readers everywhere.
More info here.
Facebook link: http://www.facebook.com/confessionsofanumberoneson
More details to come!
at 8:08 PM
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Sharon Pian Chan blasted the Seattle Rep’s rep in her op-ed in the Seattle TIMES.
Sharon's is the first Editorial, by a Yellow in a White paper to question the White man's racist characterization of Yellows, in the history of the press, She has raised more than Theater to scrutiny, but all the arts and Yellow artists of Seattle. What the Yellow arts need is Yellow critics and a noisey critics argument- and conclusions , not instructions from Whites on how to be Yellow in White America. We know the Whites Adam and Eve, Jack and Jill, Jack and the Beanstalk, Jack the Giant Killer, and the Whites still don't know Poon Goo and Nur Waw, Far Mulan, Liang Hongyu, Mu Guiying. We've been here since 1849. We learned. Why didn't the Whites? Because their White racism forbids them to read anything not written by a White. The subservient state of Yellow artist in America has reduced the Yellow man’s self-esteem to how closely he mimicks the Whites, not how much he teaches the Whites about the Yellows.
What is Rick Shiomi, Yellow Playwright of Minneopolis doing? He’s wrong to touch Gilbert & Sulluivan ‘s intentionally British White racist MIKADO. It’s humor and subtle wit depend on the White racist sympathy of the audience. The author’s intention is in the design , the art of Gilbert’s topsy turvey prose.
Rick Shiomi’s attempted production of MIKADO with the racist organs Frankesteined out strikes me as wrongheaded as a Jew sweetening Reinhard Heydrich and Adolf Eichmann’s Wannsee Conference where the final solution to the Jewish question was worked out for presentation at one today's entertainment industry fair.
Sharon Pian Chan is really criticizing the Seattle Rep as a White racist theater. Bravo! If the White man wants to prove he’s not White racist , let him present an image of himself (no coaching from the Yellows), instead of silly white racists in Yellow pancake make-up .
Gilbert & Sullivan’s THE MIKADO was the Charlie Chan of its time, that ate up England. Whites never tire of trying to sell us silly Charlie Chan is a positive lovable stereotype, at best and a mere metaphor, obviously not real Chinese. (Didya, hear that? ) …at worst. Why do Whites insist the Yellows are not serious and are not real?
Take off your pancake Mikado-Show the world the white man inside Charlie Chan.
Prove you Whites really know, respect and treat the Yellow Man as the racial, and cultural equal to yourself, White Man. Show me your real self and not metaphors that aren’t really me and mine.
at 2:02 AM
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Coffee House Press
You accused me of unjustly attacking Maxine Hong Kingston, David Henry Hwang and Amy Tan for being White America favorite Yellow writers, and sending me packing.
They are the favorite writers among Whites. That proves their White racism. They love Kingston because Kingston heaps contempt on all Chinese and all of Chinese culture by selling you her pitiful cutdown of Far Mulan.
The Chinese of San Francisco and Kingston were stripped of all knowledge of the books that held our identity, asthe Bible holds the identity of Christians, and Torah holds the identity of the Jews, and Koran holds Islam identity. Since our arrival in 1849 we were greeted with contempt, in the White religion. The Whites refused to read what we offered. We knew Whites. Whites had been China peddling Christianity and selling opium for sixty years before we took of greener pastures and the Gold Rush. But the Whites did not want to know us.
In 1889 Missionary Donaldina Cameron and the Age of American Imperialism came to San Francisco. She invented the stereotype of Chinese men are cruel to their women and built Cameron House. The stereotype became a staple of SF Christianity and is the jewel of Chinatown.
You are not my friend. A friend would have read THE BALLAD OF MULAN. A friend would have given Chinese poetry a glance and seen that before MULAN the only patriotic beauties were concubines skilled in pleasing targeted men and four of them are celebrated as THE FOUR BEAUTIES. Mulan was the first girl to decide for herself how to save her family. She decided when and who she fucked and her saved family accepted. A friend would have been impressed that her name was invoked by Liang Hongyu, the girl who drummed signals to Han Zhisong, her husband and troops on the field below. Her belly was slashed and her guts spilled out in battle. She stuffed her intestines back into her body, wrapped a scarf around to hold them, remounted her horse, said, "Today I die for my country," and rode into a barrage of arrows. She is buried with her husband. Mu Guiying, was a bandit queen who captured a general of Yang family, fell in love with him, married him and was appointed commander of the seven Yang family armies by the Yang matriarch. Both Liang and Mu were allies of General Yue Fei- the tattooed general, and Kingston's source for the tattoos Mulan's parents inflict on the child when born!
My friend would notice that all the Yellows whites like to read trash Chinese and exalt Whites. That's what Whites like to read. And thanks to White publishers like Coffee House contempt for the Chinese Heroic Tradition is all they get.
Some friend. Cameron House and their lovable Ornaments and all the Yellows honeys doing White news only are more numerous than ever. My friends are not my friends. Too cowardly to read. They go like torn pages in the wind.
Our relationship is business. Just business. Old business.
I go now looking for a non-existent Yellow America publishing house. China and Singapore are authoritarian states. Readers there have to take me under the covers. At least in America they can read my lesser works in a plain brown wrapper.
Now Pres Bill Clinton's 1998 award of his Humanities Medal to Kingston for "revealing the truth of Chinatown" hangs like a Damocles sword over Hillary Clinton campaign. Maybe you can warn them, and maybe they can smooth over Pres Bill's white racist act of contempt for the Chinese.
Date: March 26, 2014
I'm sorry Cinda and I weren't able to get together with you on our little get-away trip to Los Angeles early this month. I actually put together an itinerary for the trip with things to do and people to see in the morning, afternoon, and evening of every day of our visit--you were on it. But even though I'm much better than I was in early December, two years plus of chemo and eight years of leukemia have taken their toll. We had to scale back those plans dramatically.
But if all goes well, I will be back in your fair city later this year or early next. I have a long list of books I'd like to see at the Huntington Library, as part of the research for the book I'm writing--a quirky history of publishing from a literary publisher's point of view. If I'm able to make the trip, I'll get in touch and maybe we can get together for lunch. Speaking of our last exchange of emails, which began when a teacher who had assigned your book, contacted us about what appeared to be an error in Donald Duk. You confirmed that it was an error, and we will be making the correction next time we reprint.
And that's when I told you about the ordeal I've been through, and how I wound up getting saved at the last minute by a new drug. And your response was, "Hey, Don't Die you fucker. I'm running out of Whites to yell at."
Ah, Frank, don't you think it's time to stop yelling at people? You had a case to make, with regard to the way some Asian American writers have portrayed Chinese culture, and the obligation of Chinese American writers to read the classic Chinese texts. And you've made that case eloquently and fiercely over a long career.
And during that career you have written some terrific plays, stories, novels, and essays. It was my honor to have published some of your stories and your two novels, Frank. The work you have had performed and published has influenced at least two generations of Asian American writers.
Now it's time to take pride and pleasure in your achievements. Don't worry about Maxine Hong Kingston, or Amy Tan, or any of the writers with whom you have had a quarrel. You've made your case in speeches and essays, and by example in the books you've written.
As I'm sure you know, physically, getting older sucks. Every day another part of your body hurts, or doesn't work as well as it once did. Our only recompense is to take some pride in having made the contribution it was in us to make.
I feel so good about my years as a publisher. And I'm so grateful that Chris Fishbach was there to take over Coffee House Press, and build on my accomplishments while making his own contribution. Leukemia sucks, but I can take pride and pleasure in knowing I gave everything that was in me to literary publishing, and I still had enough left for my family.
You've had a great literary career, Frank, and you've influenced hundreds of writers, and tens of thousands of readers. As to your perceived "literary enemies"--let your anger go, man. Stop yelling at people. It's not good for you. Take it from a guy living with cancer.
I don't know what brought up the above late-night night diatribe, but don't worry about having burned bridges, or destroyed a long, warm relationship. I know about writing late night letters. Fortunately I threw most of them away, or the people who did receive them chalked them up to a crazy mood of the moment.
So, I hope you got to sleep last night, and that today life seems a bit brighter. Go have a cappuccino and enjoy your day--keeping in mind that it's eighteen degrees here in Minnesota. And remember that a lot of people care about you.
at 1:53 AM