분야
hwp The old woman remembered
a swan she had bought...
many years ago in Shanghai
for a foolish sum.
"This bird," boasted
the market vendor...
"was once a duck that
stretched its neck...
in hopes
of becoming a goose.
And now look.
It is too beautiful to eat."
Then the woman and the swan
sailed across an ocean...
many thousands of li wide...
stretching their necks
toward America.
On her journey
she cooed to the swan...
"In America I will have
a daughter just like me.
But over there, nobody will say
her worth is measured...
by the loudness
of her husbands belch.
Over there, nobody will
look down on her...
because I will make her speak
only perfect American English.
And over there, she will always be
too full to swallow any sorrow.
She will know my meaning
because I will give her this swan...
a creature that became more
than what was hoped for."
But when she arrived
in the new country...
the immigration officials
pulled the swan away from her...
leaving the woman
fluttering her arms...
and with only one swan
feather for a memory.
For a long time now,
the woman had wanted...
to give her daughter
the single swan feather...
and tell her, "This feather
may look worthless...
but it comes from afar
and carries with it...
all my good intentions."
- Hi!
- Oh, Jennifer! Oh, hi!
- Hi, June.
- Hi.
Yeah, I want-- Thats it.
How are you, June?
...the official line
of scrimmage. No gain.
- Come on, do or die.
Right here. Come on, do or die!
- Come on!
- All right, all right,
theyre lining up for a pass!
- A pass, man!
- Its a pass! Here we go, baby!
- Fourth and seven.
- Here we go. Come on!
- Oakland.
All right, all right,
here we go! Here we go!
- Yes. Yes. Yes!
- Yeah!
Yes! I told you, man!
I told you!
Yeah, you owe me five bucks!
Every morning,
"Wave, Wave, Waverly-a!"
I do not sound like--
Shes saying I sound like my--
I do not sound like my mother.
How could I be like my mother?
- And you started--
- She said that too.
- She is right, you know.
This kind of vegetable...
- What?
- Dont put Chinese cabbage in the salad.
- has to be, has to be boiled.
- I always use Chinese cabbage--
- Its bitter.
- Mmm, Dad, that smells good.
- Thanks.
- No! No!
- It will fall apart!
- Someone help me now.
- I cant believe theyre still arguing.
- Come on, picture time!
- Picture time! Picture time!
All right, picture time now.
- Waverly, Waverly loves it!
- Aunt Rose! Rose!
- Rose! Rose! Rose!
- Come on, come on, come on.
- Picture, picture.
- Were ready.
- Come on.
- Oh! June.
-June. Come here.
- Come on, June!
- Get over here!
- Get over here!
-Get over here!
-Come on!
-Oh, no, thats all right, Lena.
- Come on!
- Its all right.
- No, really.
- Go ahead. Go ahead. Go ahead.
- Go on!
- Come on, right now.
-June, come closer, darling. Come closer.
- All right, enough.
- Enough. Time to take the picture now.
- Come on, girls.
All right, let me check your hair.
Okay, it looks nice.
- Now smile naturally, Ma.
- I always do, Waverly.
- You look beautiful.
- No, you dont. Do a nice, friendly one.
- You look younger all the time.
How is that?
- I give you my good skin.
- Really? You promise?
- You will look like me when you are older.
- Yes.
- Come close.
- Im close, Mom.
- But dont crush my hair.
- Say cheese.
- I wont.
- Cheese!
- Cheese!
- Cheese!
Ying Ying, take this.
-My mother died four months ago.
-...$ . .
I realized for the first time,
they wanted me to take my mothers place.
So I sat down on the East,
where things begin...
with my mothers 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 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.
- You win like your mother?
- Uh, I only played once...
- with some Jewish friends in college.
- Hmph! Jewish mah-jong.
Not the same thing.
Entirely different.
Now, Chinese mah-jong
very tricky.
You have to watch
what everybody throw out...
and you keep all this
in your head.
And if nobody play well...
then the game is just like
Jewish mah-jong: no strategy.
You American girls
play Chinese, Jewish.
Whats the difference?
Oh.
They were worried.
In me, they see their own daughters.
Just as ignorant of all
the hopes and dreams...
our mothers brought
to this country.
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
No talking in Chinese.
- Huh?
- How do I know youre not cheating?
- We would not cheat.
- You dont know, but not we.
- Ah.
You dont know, but we are your auntie,
and we are very honest people.
- We will not cheat you.
- Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe.
Hey, June, why you not
take the piano home?
You only one who play.
When I was nine years old...
my mothers version
of believing in me...
was believing that
I could be anything...
anything she wanted;
the best piano prodigy
this side of China.
I never
