Jessica Au

[b:Cold Enough for Snow|58730649|Cold Enough for Snow|Jessica Au|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1628539813l/58730649._SY75_.jpg|89225823] is a quiet novel about a woman and her mother touring Japan. It is so quiet that almost nothing happens, they take trains, go sightseeing, hear music, shop, eat meals, walk and talk--very matter-of-fact. The book has an almost daunting tiny font-size and is only ninety-five pages. Yet, squinting, I read on enjoying the author's perfect, measured writing and calm in this author's reflections.

"I asked my mother what she believed about the soul and she thought for a moment. Then, looking not at me but at the hard, white light before us, she said that she believed that we were all essentially nothing, just series of sensations and desires, none of it lasting. When she was growing up, she said that she had never thought of herself in isolation, but rather as inextricably linked to others. Nowadays, she said, people were hungry to know everything, thinking that they could understand it all, as if enlightenment were just around the corner. But, she said, in fact there was no control, and understanding would not lessen any pain. The best we could do in this life was to pass through it, like smoke through the branches, suffering, until we either reached a state of nothingness, or else suffered elsewhere. She spoke about other tenets, of goodness and giving, the accumulation of kindness like a trove of wealth. She was looking at me then, and I knew that she wanted me to be with her on this, to follow her, but to my shame I found that I could not and worse, that I could not even pretend."… (mehr)

A short novella which goes against many of the conventions of novel writing.
There is virtually no plot - a daughter takes her mother on a holiday to Japan. There are no other characters - although the daughter reflects on some others - her first boyfriend, her husband, her sister. The writing style is chatty - almost like a long letter home while travelling.
But the core of the book is the first generation migrant experience. The narrator is Australian-born Chinese, and reflects on the life of of her and her sister compared to the life of her mother in Hong Kong. The contrast is stark but the narrator doesn't dwell on it. It's left to the reader to marvel at the distance between the dirt floor house in China of the mother and the liberal arts tertiary education of the daughter.
This is a great "people story", but if the background is the story, I can't help wishing there was something more in the foreground. There's one quirky moment - after being away on a hike for a night and a day, the narrator comes back and can't find her mother at the accommodation. And the host says that it was only booked for one guest. Was the mother really there? Was she travelling alone and only thinking deeply of her mother? If this is "the catch" it needed a little more development.… (mehr)