In The Bonesetter’s Daughter, Amy Tan draws the heartbreaking, complex picture of the relationship between Ruth Young, the middle-aged Chinese-American daughter of LuLing. LuLing’s story is woven into Ruth’s life just as quickly and mercilessly as it is threaded into the reader’s life. It is a sad tale involving dragon bones, World War II China, love, death, and acceptance. Ruth assists in the writing of self-help books; on top of her problems with the authors she helps, she is increasingly finding difficulty with her home situation – Art, her boyfriend, is a divorcee with two daughters, and her struggle to understand her mother’s words is apparent.

LuLing has given her a chance to understand her, however; Ruth receives a diary of sorts describing – well, she isn’t sure. She holds on to it for a long time as her Chinese is terrible, and it’s not until she finally submits it to an expert to translate that she realizes LuLing’s signs of Alzheimer’s aren’t quite as bad as she suspects. She discovers with the reader the truth of LuLing’s past, the significance of ghosts, and the beauty that can come from healing past scars.

It’s hard to formulate a real review of this book; there is so much going on in it – I haven’t even summarized the half of it. It is divided into three parts. The first describes Ruth in a bit of detail including what she’s dealing with and her concern for her mother. The second is the translation of LuLing’s diary as presented to Ruth by the translater who, we discover in the third part, has fallen in love with LuLing through her words. It’s not quite as miraculous as it seems; there is depth in the details presented and one easily feels he/she is struggling through World War II era China right along with LuLing and her family. The third part illustrates Ruth’s reactions to the tale, and her decision of what to do with her mother.

This is an engrossing book which I barely found time to put down. The characters drew me in more than anything else. Ruth reminds me a bit of myself – nitpicky, a little unreasonable, but extremely concerned for those she loves. LuLing shows a strength of will and heart that is almost incomparable by any of the other characters in my life; I imagine it would be an honor to know such a formidable woman. Art, despite Ruth’s misgivings, is an ever-supportive partner. GaoLing, LuLing’s sister (of sorts), shows admirable confidence in her sister’s ability to survive; she also sticks by her through and through without hesitation. It was a quick read, but by no means a light one. I found myself crying several times throughout this book, maybe in part because of the river-flow of smooth, eloquently chosen words, but I think it is mostly because I was sincerely torn when the characters were. I felt for them. I felt like I was with them.

As Ruth finds her voice in the course of this book, so I also felt like I had found something unrecognized previously within me. At the beginning, she is frustrated, feeling useless as one able to speak but unable to speak for her mother – in her defense? Or perhaps she is upset because she cannot find the words to tell her mother how she feels. Once she has read LuLing’s story, however, she finds her voice once again. She speaks out to GaoLing, to Art, to every influence in her life she feels is wanting. Her voice returns as her strength deepens, and I had the impression this is because she discovered a part of her that was once lost. She never knew, of course, LuLing’s struggles, but by learning the truth she has gained bits and pieces of her own past, as well as her mother’s and grandmother’s, thus puzzling together a whole Ruth who feels more complete to face the changes coming in her life. Her voice returns, and I felt full again too.

The Bonesetter’s Daughter is an illustrious painting of the lives within. Layers reveal hidden intricacies of each character – like a special cream-filled surprise. I enjoyed this book, but it hasn’t encouraged me to read other books by the author. This is my first Amy Tan book, unlike most other readers who started with Joy Luck Club (I haven’t even seen the movie!), but as beautifully executed as it was, it wasn’t memorable. It’s been four days since I’ve finished it, but I sadly can’t think of very much else to say in my review. I loved it while I was reading it. I was inside it (as I mentioned); I felt I was part of the story. If I had reviewed it immediately, this post would probably be much longer and full of details pertaining to ink-making and hard work, Ruth and LuLing’s voices, mother-daughter relationships, love in times of war, and who knows what else! But I quickly forgot all the details I wanted to impress in relation to these themes; even now, I can only recall that these were themes, but I wouldn’t be able to give a detailed account.

It was an extremely good book and I would recommend it to anyone, but only under the expectation that the joy won’t last. This is not one of those books that will become a “favorite book;” you won’t cry for the characters after the last page is turned. You’ll have a fond memory of it, knowing that you really loved it, but you won’t be able to say why.