This may sound fancy but I have to say what I feel. This beautiful tale left me thirsty and craving for knowledge about this race that resides within me yet has not fully manifested itself. Buck is a beautiful and sweeping story of farmer Wang Lu and his wife O-lan. My only assurances were that it won the Pulitzer Prize and the author is a Nobel Prize winner. So when I picked up this book, I didn't know what to expect. Aside from that, you could say that I'm really much more familiar with Filipino and Western cultures. We also drink herbal tea at home and have this uncanny favoritism for Chinese restaurants during family get-togethers. My Grandma, the real Chinese in the family, still brings Moon Cakes during the Chinese New Year and we do maintain fireworks when celebrating. And as much as I'd like to think that I am familiar with the Chinese culture, I have to admit that my knowledge about that is limited and my views about them a bit stereotypical. China, I've only been there once as a tourist when I was a bit younger. A race that I have associated with frugality, hard work, mass production, internet restrictions, and Jackie Chan. A race that has given me these small eyes and this yellowish complexion. There is a gush of red, marvelous, and mysterious blood running through my veins.
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