Summary of Stephanie Foo's What My Bones Know , livre ebook

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33 pages

English

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Please note: This is a companion version & not the original book.
Sample Book Insights:
#1 I borrowed a VCR and struggled with the puzzle of plugs and cords. I pushed one tape in, and it started with Christmas in 1984. I saw a four-year-old girl in a velvet dress, her little neck swallowed by an enormous white lace collar. She had thick, straight-across bangs and braided pigtails.
#2 My father was a brilliant man who had spent his life immersed in tropical heat. He had spent his life dreaming of going to American colleges, but when he wrote to American colleges asking about scholarship options, they told him not to waste his time. Then he got a perfect 1600 on the SATs, and was able to escape poverty and go to college in America.
#3 My parents took me to The Tech Museum of Innovation or the Children’s Discovery Museum on Saturdays, and we had fun. On Sundays, we went to church and sang Shout to the Lord with our all-white congregation.
#4 I had to go through and edit all of my notes, and my mother did the same. She marked my work with red X’s, circles, and strikethroughs. Each pen mark was a punch to the chest.

Informations

Publié par	Everest Media LLC
Date de parution	22 mars 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781669357285
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0150€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Insights on Stephanie Foo's What My Bones Know
Contents Insights from Chapter 1 Insights from Chapter 2 Insights from Chapter 3 Insights from Chapter 4 Insights from Chapter 5
Insights from Chapter 1

#1

I borrowed a VCR and struggled with the puzzle of plugs and cords. I pushed one tape in, and it started with Christmas in 1984. I saw a four-year-old girl in a velvet dress, her little neck swallowed by an enormous white lace collar. She had thick, straight-across bangs and braided pigtails.

#2

My father was a brilliant man who had spent his life immersed in tropical heat. He had spent his life dreaming of going to American colleges, but when he wrote to American colleges asking about scholarship options, they told him not to waste his time. Then he got a perfect 1600 on the SATs, and was able to escape poverty and go to college in America.

#3

My parents took me to The Tech Museum of Innovation or the Children’s Discovery Museum on Saturdays, and we had fun. On Sundays, we went to church and sang Shout to the Lord with our all-white congregation.

#4

I had to go through and edit all of my notes, and my mother did the same. She marked my work with red X’s, circles, and strikethroughs. Each pen mark was a punch to the chest.

#5

The purpose of the journal was to improve my writing skills, but it was also to preserve my childhood memories. But as I read through it now, I realized that my mother’s mission had failed. I had no recollection of the Santa Cruz trip or the lion dance.

#6

The author’s mother was extremely critical of her daughter’s developing body, and she did not tell her about her period. Instead, she bound her chest and wore baggy T-shirts to hide her developing breasts.

#7

I had the wrong idea about my mother and her trip. I thought things would be okay after that weekend, but instead, my mother was humiliated by me. I was always making my mother look bad.

#8

I remember being so afraid of my mother’s beatings that I would cry bitterly after every one of them. But I also loved her, and so I must have felt guilty and frightened.

#9

I knew I couldn’t control my mother’s feelings, but I could control how I reacted to them. I knew that if I took up all that space with my feelings, what space could I maintain for hers. hers were more important.

#10

I took it upon myself to keep everything in order when my parents wanted to sleep in on Sundays. I forced them to go to church so God would know how serious we were about maintaining the peace in our household.

#11

I was a child, and I needed play. I could not survive in a world where I simply fought, negotiated, and worked toward perfection. I needed release. So I handled that like I handled everything else: I made time for it by popping Sudafed before bed.

#12

I had no refuge from my mother’s abuse other than the internet. I didn’t know what I’d do if she took that away. I had taken to fingering our knife blades late at night, wondering how much it would hurt to slit a wrist and whether my mother would notice in the morning if I slipped one into my backpack to take to school.

#13

I loved Malaysia because Malaysia loved me. I was the king of kings, the supreme ruler, because I was heralded as the best. I rarely got into trouble, and everyone bought me all the toys I wanted.

#14

My aunt was the caretaker of our family. She was a total wack job, but her whole self was infused with mischievous glee. She taught me mah-jongg and stroked my hands.

#15

I felt most special during my one-on-one time with Auntie. In the late afternoons, when everyone else was napping, I followed the sound of green bean stems breaking juicily between Auntie’s fingers, my bare feet slapping gently on the marble floor.

#16

When I was 13, my mother took me out for a bowl of my favorite shrimp dumpling noodles and told me she was divorcing my father. I called her cellphone for days, but she never answered. She returned two months later to pick up some clothes, and I knew then that I’d already made up my mind.

#17

I made my father start calling me Noi Noi, which is a diminutive for girl. I was not a girl. I was his caretaker. We had to sell the house and move into a smaller apartment, but we kept everything that reminded us of my mother.

#18

I learned that hatred was the antidote to sadness. It was the only safe feeling. I began to lean into my freakishness, and doubled down on my fury. In my adult circles, my father wasn’t faring much better. His small handful of friends had distanced themselves from him because he couldn’t stop complaining about his shitty ex-wife.

#19

I was just like my mother, my father said. He told me that she had tortured me my entire life, and that he didn’t want to be like her. He started spending time with his new girlfriend. I stopped eating and dropped to ninety-five pounds.

#20

My father was a fan of car terrorism. Whenever we fought while driving, he would start sweating and shaking, breathing heavily until the car windows fogged up. Then he would blow stoplights, brake so hard my seatbelt choked my breath, and careen near the edges of cliffs.

#21

I was too afraid to go down into the kitchen to see if there was anything in the refrigerator. I didn’t eat, and I didn’t cry. I sat on my bed fuming, my mind churning. I had faced death so many times before that I knew the feeling well.

#22

I was alone in the boonies after my father left. I had a debit card for essentials, but I rarely used it except to buy gas to get to school. I subsisted on a large supply of shoplifted Healthy Choice microwavable dinners.

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