The Woman Warrior by Maxine Kingston addresses the importance of language for Chinese-American women, using Kingston's life experiences as the foundation of the novel. In the book's final chapter, "A Song for a Barbarian Reed Pipe," he details his developing relationship with silence and language. Kingston expresses her frustration and distrust of Chinese tradition as both her speaking and her silence elude connection to her. She argues that she must find a voice of her own, as a Chinese-American woman, to bridge the gap between generations and communities, and that this voice must be used to empower others, not tear them down. It is through the arts that this voice takes shape, both through song and through literature, as in the case of the novel. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay Throughout the chapter, it is clear that Kingston's struggle to find his own voice is intertwined with his struggle to make sense of Chinese vocal tradition. Is silence or loudness the embodiment of being Chinese, especially for a Chinese woman? As a child, she identified primarily with silence and initially saw silence as an integral part of being a Chinese girl: "The other Chinese girls didn't talk either, so I knew silence had to do with being a Chinese girl" ( 166). Silence is something in which one originally takes comfort. Kingston states that she liked the silence and it was a natural state for her as it "did not occur to her that [she] should speak" (166). For her, silence was not a lack of things to say but a "curtain, and it was the moment before the curtain opened or rose" (165). His silence, this curtain “so black and full of possibilities” (165), only hid the “great works” on stage in his mind. Kingston also takes up the theme of silence, or at least the absence of communication, from Chinese adults, particularly in traditional communication. In one section he talks about the ambiguity of Chinese holidays and how “even beautiful things are unspeakable” (185). No one tells her when the holidays are and “adults get angry, evasive, and shut you up if you ask them” (185). You rightly ask “how can the Chinese maintain traditions?” (185), pointing out that one of the negative aspects of the silence in which she grew up is that it stifles continuity between generations. The lack of communication is largely responsible for the disconnect between Chinese and Chinese-Americans, which Kingston said leaves younger generations with a lot of uncertainty in dealing with life's challenges. “If we had to depend on what we were told, we would have no religion, no children, no menstruation (sex, of course, unspeakable), no death” (185). His statement may allude to the biblical Garden of Eden, where it was only when God spoke to Adam and Eve about the Tree of Knowledge that they stumbled upon the ups and downs of mortality. This interprets silence as an almost childlike state, in which there is protection from both the good and bad things in life. Here we see Kingston disdaining the gaps in knowledge this state leaves. So what about volume and sound? Kingston provides evidence that perhaps it is the volume that embodies the Chinese woman. The silence that pervades Chinese girls in American school quickly evaporates once they enter Chinese school; “The girls were not silent. They yelled and screamed at recess, when there were no rules; they had fistfights” (167). Here she seems to argue that it is the American school environment that induces calm in her and the other girls; once placed in a Chinese environmentthey adapt the form of the Chinese expression. His father also comments on this topic later in the chapter: “Why can I hear Chinese from blocks away? Is it because I understand the language? Or do they speak loudly?" (171) Kingston goes on to describe the irreverence of a Chinese audience at a piano recital, because "the Chinese don't hear the Americans at all" (172). And then he lays it out quite clearly by saying, "The voices of ordinary Chinese women are strong and domineering" (172). Strong and domineering, loud and irreverent, this is what is presented to Kingston as the manifestation of the Chinese. Yet the strong Chinese voice does not resonate with her. Her own judgment is reflected when she says, “You can see the disgust on American faces…it's not just the volume. It's the way Chinese sounds, chingchong ugly…not beautiful” (171). pot lids during the eclipse and distrusts the Chinese voice because "they want to capture your voice for their own use" (169) For Kingston this distrust of the Chinese voice plays a major role in the communication problems between Chinese and Chinese-Americans . Throughout the novel and especially in this chapter, Kingston struggles to figure out which stories he hears from his mother are true and which are jokes. Speaking of his mother's stories, he shouts: “They put me in difficulty. You lie with stories…I can't tell the difference” (202). This outburst stems from years of pent-up anguish over Kingston's fear of being sold out in the marriage and all the many derogatory comments made about women, particularly her and her Chinese American sisters. His mother, responding to Kingston's accusations, retorts, "You can't even tell a joke from real life" and "That's what the Chinese say. We like to say the opposite” (202-3). There is clearly a gap in understanding between Kingston and his mother. This gap is symbolized in the ordeal with his mother cutting Kingston's frenulum, an act that evokes pride and terror in his heart. Her mother claims she “cut it so you wouldn't be left without a tongue. Your tongue could move in any language” (164). Kingston has a distrust of her mother's reasoning and blames her for making her have "a terrible time speaking," the cut "tampered with my speech" (165). So was her mother trying to silence her or free her tongue? Kingston points out that "the Chinese say that 'ready tongue is bad,'" but his mother retorts that "'Things are different in this ghost country'" (164). This language paradox symbolizes the ambiguities and communication problems between Chinese and Chinese Americans and also highlights the importance of place to communication guidelines. In order to bridge the gap between her generation and that of her parents, she must find her own voice; Kingston will make clear what's at stake if it can't. On page 186 he explains: “I thought talking and not talking made the difference between sanity and insanity. The crazy ones were the ones who couldn't explain themselves." He goes on to tell about Crazy Mary and Pee-A-Nah, both women who have grown into adults unable to communicate with the world. Kingston is afraid of becoming like these women; “I didn't want to be our fool” (190). So how does Kingston think he can avoid this fate? She has in mind all these fantasies and imaginary conversations, the work that her period of black painting hid, and it is the need to communicate these internal truths that leads her to make her list, “a list of over two hundred things I had to say to my mother so that she would know the true things about me and stop the pain in my throat” (197). Kingston and other Chinese-American women need their voices. She needs her voice to bridge the gap between her mother, ha.