4 Relationship Lessons from The Joy Luck Club (1993)

Ok, so as many of you may already know, I’m sort of obsessed with Wayne Wang’s 1993 film adaptation of Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club.  I first saw the film on network television during the late 90s—I was probably about 10 at the time—and remember becoming instantly and inexplicably enthralled by Tan’s interlocking set modern parables told from the perspectives of 4 first generation Chinese-American immigrants and their daughters.  As I grew up and started dating, I began to realize that beyond offering a beautiful, almost mythical depiction of the Chinese-American immigrant experience during the second half of the 20^th century, The Joy Luck Club was also a veritable encyclopedia of solid relationship/dating advice.

Seriously, every bad relationship paradigm I’ve ever experienced is represented and explored in this film.  Ever felt ignored?  Undervalued?  Ever been too accommodating?  Ever married an accountant who makes you pay for his ice cream???  Yes, I thought so. 

After a long, unproductive search for curious new JLC inductees (seriously, none of my friends would watch it with me), I’ve decided to sift through the 139-minute masterpiece and pull out the 4 most precious gems of relationship wisdom for all to marvel at.  In this rendering, the drama is all but done away with and the story arch completely missing.  The soundtrack is gone and the artful cinematography reduced to a few choice GIFS.  However, if you really don’t have the time for the real thing (scoff), I’m hoping this, my inaugural Joy Luck Blog post, will at least partially fill you in on what’s been going on in your life.  Enjoy.

Some Background

Four Chinese-American women play mahjong. Each
woman has a daughter.  Each mother/daughter pair
has a lesson for you...

June (voice over): My mother died four months ago.  I realized for the first time they wanted me to take my mother’s place.  So I sat down on the East, where things begin, with my mother’s best friends.  My mother started the Joy Luck Club having met all these women in church:  Auntie An Mei, Auntie Lindo, Auntie Ying Ying.  For 30 years, these women feasted, forgot past wrongs, laughed and played, lost and won, and told the best stories.  Each week, they hoped to be lucky, and that hope was their only joy.  Their connection with each other had more to do with hope than joy or luck. 

Pair 1: Waverly & Auntie Lindo

Ok, this is a good one to start with because I think we've all been in this situation—trying to get mom to fix that cheap dye job of hers so she won't embarrass us at our posh 90s wedding. Some background: Waverly is this ultra chic 90s business woman who is engaged to a hot Southern man named Rich.  Her mother is this extremely withholding, judgmental woman named Lindo.  It has been difficult for Waverly to get her mother to acknowledge her relationship with Rich since he is not Chinese.  At the salon, the pent up tension surrounding the wedding comes out in little jabs. Waverly insults her mother's poor haircare decisions.  Lindo insults her daughter's extravagant lifestyle and says she doesn't want to pay for the expensive dye job.  Waverly takes her mother's obstinacy as a sign of disapproval regarding the wedding.  Let's hear how this all culminates:

Sad faishes :(

Waverly: Why don't you like Rich?

Lindo: It’s Rich you afraid I not like.  If I don’t liking Rich, I act polite, say nothing, let him have big cancer, let my daughter be a widow.  I like Rich, of course I do.  To allow him to marry such a daughter…

Waverly: You don’t know, you don’t know the power you have over me.  One word from you, one look, and I’m four years old again crying myself to sleep.  Because nothing I do can ever, EVER please you. 

Happy faishes :)

Lindo: Now—now you make me happy. 

(Mutual laughter ensues.)

LESSON 1: Sometimes that nitpicky roommate, family member, or friend just wants to KNOW that he/she is making you feel bad.  They're not doing it because they don't love you.  In fact, they do it exactly because they do love you.  They just want to be sure that you also care about them, and the only way they've found to reassure themselves on this point is to exert a bit of control over your emotional state by being super rude and mean to you.  When you get upset, your anguish shows them that you care.  Don't let this get you down, though. You can both acknowledge how fucked up it is and have a good laugh about it! (Mom, you're such a bitch, lol!)

Pair 2: Lena & Auntie Ying Ying

Hot Lady and Icky Man

Ok so pretty much, Lena is this really sweet, agreeable dish who marries this icky bald accountant man who keeps track of all of their expenses separately and makes her pay him back for things he buys that only she uses (like tampons). And can I just briefly say about this whole situation: gross.  Really icky and bad and gross.  He's really mean and condescending to her and she totally eats it up even though she deserves way better since she's a hot, capable young woman with a full head of hair and a chic 90s wardrobe.  Anyway, her mother, Ying Ying, comes over to the couple's new ultra modern apartment (made mostly of sad, gray metal) and starts wondering why her daughter puts up with all of this aggressive bull shit.  She sees the icy efficiency of the relationship reflected on the cold, crooked surfaces of the apartment.  Here's what she has to say: 

Checking out the lopsided house...

Ying Ying (voice over): All around this house I see the signs.  My daughter looks but she does not see.  This is a house that will break into pieces.   It’s not too late.  All my pains, my regrets, I will gather them together.  My daughter will hear me calling even though I’ve said no words.  She will climb the stairs to find me.  She will be scared because at first her eyes will see nothing.  She will feel in her heart this place that she hides her fears.  She will know I am waiting like a tiger in the trees now ready to leap out and cut her spirit loose.

"Mommy?"

Ying Ying: Do you know what you want, I mean from him?

Lena: Respect, tenderness.

Ying Ying: Then tell him now and leave this lopsided house.  Do not come back until he give you those things with both hands open. 

Lena: I can’t.

Ying Ying: Losing him does not matter.  It is you who will be found, and cherished. 

LESSON 2: You can’t negotiate fair terms in a relationship.  A relationship isn't a business contract; certain things like respect and tenderness should just be inherent and forthcoming.  The accounting example is an extreme one, but we've all been there more or less.  If you're at the point of trying to bargain for something really basic that you're not getting from a significant other, it's probably too late for your lopsided house and everyone in it.  You had best get out, girl, and take some of that metalic furniture with you.  That is, if you can get all of the ick off of it.  (Tide pen?)

Pair 3: Rose & Auntie An Mei

-"What do you want for dinner?"
-"Oh, dear god."

Ok so Rose and Ted are getting a divorce after their marriage sort of falls into the shitter.  We see a flashback of them on their first date.  They're still in college and Rose gets all sassy and calls Ted out about his icky rich boy attitude.  He's clearly into it. As their relationship progress, however, Rose starts to ease up on the sass pedal. She becomes less and less opinionated and more and more eager to please until she can't even form an opinion about what she wants for dinner.  ("I want whatever you want.  I just want you to be happy!")  He's clearly no longer into it.  Now she's preparing to meet with him to finalize their divorce settlement, and decides to bake a chocolate peanut butter pie to take along as a gift.  Good thing mom's there to check that decision with a little wise sass of her own.

"Sweety... how about no
pie gifts at the divorce proceedings?"

An Mei: What you going to do with leftovers after he eat one slice? 

Rose: Throw it away I guess.

An Mei: You ask yourself why you make this.  Because I know even if you don’t.

Rose: I like being tragic, ma. I learned it from you. 

An Mei: You think he sees this pie, now he so sorry take you for granted?  You think this?  You the foolish one.  Every time you give him gift, like begging.  Take this.  I’m sorry.  Please forgive me.  I’m not worth as much as you.  So he only take you more for granted.  You’re just like my mother.  Never know what you’re worth.

LESSON 3: You can’t make someone appreciate you by being accommodating or giving gifts.  In fact, these selfless acts and prostrations may actually cause a partner to appreciate you less as your needs and priorities become lost beneath theirs.  You've gotta give a little push back, girl; make your needs known.  No one's going to read your mind, yet almost anyone (given enough persuasion) will eventually treat you like a doormat (and doormats are no fun to date). There should be some friction in a relationship—it's a sign that you've maintained two independent sets of needs.  Your husband will appreciate you more if you occasionally put your own needs first.  So next time you find yourself in doormat mode, do yourself a favor—throw that peanut butter pie in the trash, dust that shoe dirt off of your face, and tell him exactly what it is that YOU want for dinner!  (My guess is crab.)


Pair 4: June & Auntie Suyuan 

"It's just not... well... sophisticated."

And now the moment you've all been waiting for: the epic and much-quoted crab quality speech!!!  It is the best part of this or any movie.  I'm considering getting it tattooed across my neck for safekeeping.  Anyway, the story goes that Waverly and June have been friends and rivals since early childhood.  Growing up, their mothers were in the habit of comparing the two girls' accomplishments in ruthless public bragging competitions, so the daughters were constantly under pressure to measure up to one another.  Now they're grown up and Waverly's become some sort of sexy 90s business professional while June is this chirpy, turtleneck-wearing freelance writer with side bangs.  The two moms and their daughters have just sat down to a nice crab dinner when Waverly insults some freelance work that June did for her company, saying it lacks sophistication and style.  The girls argue until June's mom steps in and just completely stabs the shit out of her daughter's back:

     Suyuan: True, cannot teach style.  June not like Waverly.  Must be born this way.  

Later, while June and Suyuan are cleaning up from the dinner party, June confronts her mother about her lofty expectations and perpetual disappointment.  Mom fires back with one glorious doozy of a monologue, referred to in film circles as the "crab quality speech."  Let's listen in:

"Its hurts me, mommy."

June: Every time you hope for something I can’t deliver, it hurts.  And no matter what you hope for, I’ll never be more than what I am.  And you never see that—what I really am. 

Suyuan: June, since your baby time, I wear this next to my heart.   Now you wear next to yours.  <Places locket in hand.> It will help you know I see you.  I see you.  That bad crab, only you tried to take it.  Everybody else want best quality.  You, you thinking different.  Waverly took best quality crab, you took worst, because you have best quality heart.  You have style no one can teach.  Must be born this way.  I see you.

"I see you!"

LESSON 4: Everyone seeks out a primitive sense of existential validity from their parents and close friends, and it can really fuck a sister up when this gets withheld. But every so often, circumstances and bitches conspire to make you feel like a total joke, and that's why it's important to have some strategies in place to sidestep the approval wagon with its heavy load of value-specific success measurements before it runs your insecure ass over. Especially when times are tough and you feel like a failure, it's important to remember that you are made valid merely by virtue of your existence, the "what I really am" that June refers to.  It's enough to just be a human, and you're a human before you are anything else.  With the crab speech, Suyuan recognizes the inherent human worth of her daughter.  June is a good person, and that's good enough.  Through the act of "seeing" her, she provides June with a preliminary basis for existential security and self worth.  And June's just all like, "Coolawesomethanks, Mom."  Seriously though, even if mommy and daddy didn't provide you with the most secure existential footing, you can adjust the way you see yourself.  Get in touch with your inalienable human worth and then shame Waverly into paying you back for that freelance work that is good enough and will definitely work just fine for her firm.  Also don't invite her over to dinner again. She can make her own damn seafood if she's that obsessed with crab quality.

-Jenkins