I am reading the Buddha in the Attic (read 50%). I am somehow disappointed as charatecters are so generic that it is impossible to love or hate or admire one. I do not give up as the theme – immigration by Japanese into US – is interesting and the text is poetic. First time I read a book written in “we” form and that is a kind of generalization of the life of many women.
“where we lay awake every evening staring up at the American stars, which looked no different from ours: there, up above us, was the …”