Haunted by American Son

I finished reading Brian Ascalon Roley’s novel, American Son, a couple of weeks ago, and have been struggling with writing about it since. It has seemed to haunt me. While I wouldn’t necessarily say this about being haunted in all situations, in this case, it’s a good kind of haunting. It’s the kind of haunting that reflects how deeply Roley’s novel was able to affect me. Powerful stuff here.

I’ve read other texts by Filipino authors before, including but not limited to Jessica Hagedorn (Dogeaters) and Nice Rodriguez (Throw it to the River), but without the same effect. American Son was particularly touching to me because the one-and-a-half generation immigrant status of Gabe and Tomas is one I also share, as well as the California upbringing. That’s the extent of my life’s similarities with those of Gabe and Tomas’, but I found Roley’s depiction of the tensions and struggles faced by us one-and-a-half generation immigrants immensely poignant.

Even now, weeks removed from my reading of the text, I still find myself thinking back to Roley’s vivid portrayals: of dinner with relatives where tensions are running high alongside efforts to keep face; of how being sent back to the Philippines was seen as a panacea for all the wrong/American ways immigrant kids adopt; of trying to fit in with classmates; of (mis-) adventures with sun-in; and of the hope (accompanied by sacrifice) of parents so that we children might have the chance at something better. These are just some of the things that spoke specifically to me.

On the whole, however, Roley’s novel is remarkable because of his focus on biraciality. Biracial and multi-racial realities have long existed for many, but it seems that it is only very recently that they are coming into greater focus and attention. The exploits in American Son of Tomas and Gabe living out their mestizo (white & Filipino) realities, intentionally and unintentionally passing as white and/or Chicano, and of being Filipino, American, and Filipino-American paint a picture I haven’t seen nearly enough of.

I will have to say, though, while this story is more Gabe’s (from who’s perspective the story is told), I was left wanting for more of Tomas’ story. It’s there, but elusively so. He’s the son that brings money into the household by means that are best coupled by family members’ active denial. He’s the son that is in many ways a disappointment to his mother, yet simultaneously fiercely protective of her. It’s his story, of an Asian American who finds himself outside of the black/white binary of race in the U.S. and responds by making himself into a Chicano that really piqued my interest. I look forward to more texts from all genres exploring the connections between Filipinos and Chicanos, and of Filipino-Chicano mixed-race realities.