Topic simply: Maxine Kingstons The Woman Warrior
| FEMINIST CRIMINOLOGICAL RESEARCH | 3 days ago · However, the bond between Maxine Hong Kingston and her own mother in The Woman Warrior is like that of a roller coaster with happy highs and crashing lows. As Chinese-Americans, there is the question as to what values do they hold onto from their pasts and which ones do they leave behind. 1 day ago · MAXINE HONG KINGSTON THE WOMAN WARRIOR. Maxine Hong Kingston is Senior Lecturer for Creative Writing at the University of California, Berkeley. For her memoirs and ction, The Fifth Book of Peace, The Woman Warrior, China Men, Tripmaster Monkey, and Hawai’i One Summer, Kingston has earned numerous awards, among them the National Book Award, the National Book . 20 hours ago · List wise famous quotes about Kingston's: I have found things that I could have done better in 'The Woman Warrior.' But then I thought: Let the. |
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In China your father had a sister who killed herself. She jumped into the family well. We say that your father has all brothers because it is as if she had never been born. Those lucky enough to get contracts waved goodbye from the decks. All of them sent money home. She could not have been pregnant, you Maxine Kingstons The Woman Warrior, because her husband had been gone for years. No one said anything. We did not discuss it. In early summer she was ready to have the child, long after the time when it could have been possible.
On the night the baby was to be born the villagers raided our house. Some were crying. Like a great saw, teeth strung with lights, les of people walked zigzag across our land, tearing the rice. Their lanterns doubled in the disturbed black water, which drained away through the broken bunds.
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As the villagers closed in, we could see that some of them, probably men and women we knew well, wore white Maxihe. The people with long hair hung it over their faces. Women with short hair made it stand up on end. Some had tied white bands around their foreheads, arms, and legs.
Then they threw eggs and Kingstnos slaughtering our stock. We could hear the animals scream their deaths—the roosters, the pigs, a last great roar from the ox. Familiar wild heads ared in our night windows; the villagers encircled us. Some of the faces stopped to peer at us, their eyes rushing like searchlights. The hands flattened against the panes, framed heads, and left red prints.
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Their knives dripped with the blood of our animals. They smeared blood on the doors and walls. One woman swung a chicken, whose throat she had slit, splattering blood in red arcs about her. We stood together in the middle of our house, in the family hall with the pictures and tables of the ancestors around us, and looked straight ahead. When the men came back, we would build two more to enclose Maxine Kingstons The Woman Warrior courtyard and a third one to begin a second courtyard. From this room a new wing for one of the younger families would grow.]
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