Charles Yu and the Second Point of View
Interior Chinatown is about Willis Wu, an Asian American actor living in present-day Chinatown in Los Angeles. The overarching metaphor in the book is that Chinatown exists in a world where literally everyone is an actor participating or playing a role in a television production studio that serves to be an extension of American society.
Written in the screenplay format, the book is highly experimental and explicit in conveying its commentary on the roles minorities are expected to play in American society, specifically Asian American citizens. Using a combination of elements such as the screenplay structure, character, and point of view, Yu creates a metafiction of nesting dolls that reinforces the roles minorities are forced to perform to fit in.
Starting with the first thing the reader sees, which is the screenplay format. Visually, the narrative is displayed on the page in the precise template used to write stories for the movies— the dialogue is in the center of the page; there are shorthands and abbreviations instead of descriptions; even the font is a courier, which is an industry favorite. The first time the reader is introduced to Willis Wu is a breakdown of his character on page 7. Still, they’re a list of stock characters instead of character traits, which are essentially character interpretations used in American movies, TV, and other media to define an entire ethnic people. It groups them into a persona and, at the same time, manipulates the American perception of them. For example, they grouped all Arabs as ISIS members and branded them as terrorists in American society without proper context.
Willis Wu
(Asian) Actor
Skills:
Kung Fu (Moderate Proficiency)
Fluent in Accented English
Able to do Face of Great Shame on command
Resume / Repertoire:
Disgraced Son
Delivery Guy
Silent Henchmen
Caught Between Two Worlds
Guy who Runs in and Gets Kicked in the Face
Striving Immigrant
Generic Aisan Man
Therefore the screenplay format serves as the first nesting doll to showcase the protagonist, and all the other characters in the story, in their limited and assumed roles visually on the page.
Willis attempts to land better parts within the story of the screenplay. Striving for the ultimate starring role of an Asian-American man can land, Kung Fu Guy. Parts that will pay better and grant Willis more visibility and roles designed to promise more happiness, social mobility, and acceptance within American society. As our protagonist achieves these parts, he comes up against even more limitations.
“The two words: Asian Guy. Even now, as Special Guest Star, even here, in your own neighborhood. Two words that define you, flatten you, trap you and keep you here. Who you are. All you are. Your most salient feature, overshadowing any other feature about you, making irrelevant any other characteristic. Both necessary and sufficient for a complete definition of your identity: Asian. Guy.” (Pg. 61)
He eventually receives better “roles” or personas, climbing up that success ladder, but the characters he plays still confine him into a limited space and character. Dwindling Willis down from a person to a persona.
“Look what you made yourself into. Working your way up the system doesn’t mean you beat the system. It strengthens it.” (Pg. 61)
But what cinches this idea of roles is how Yu uses the second person pov throughout the book/screenplay. The story dips into second person pov when the narrative sinks into Willis’ thoughts and headspace—a behind-the-scenes / interiority of our protagonist. By using the second-person pov, Yu asserts two things. The first is placing the reader inside Willis’ perspective, which is standard when using this narrative style.
“You lie awake, staring through a small open window at a full blue moon complete with a silly face. This is the dream. Sustainable employment. Some semblance of work-life balance. Talk white. Not a lot. Get contact lenses. Smile. They will assume you’re smart. The less you say, the better. Try to project responsibility, harmless. An unthreatening amount of color sprinkled in. That’s the dream. A dream of blending in. A dream of going from “generic Asian man” to just plain Generic Man.” (pg. 122)
Yu’s use of the second-person perspective allows the reader to assume Willis as a character—to wear it, encompass it, and eventually be it. Here, the reader and protagonist do not merge into the same character. Using the concept of the role and role-play, the reader assumes the part of Generic Asian Guy or Willis Wu. By way of second-person POV, the reader becomes the role, much like the actor becomes the character.
