"Yamamoto does reveal through her fiction the sorry plight of many female immigrants caught in unhappy marriages. What made the lives of these Issei women especially bleak was that unlike Black women, for example, who in similar situations often turned to one another for support, rural Issei women were not only separated by the Pacific from their mothers and grandmothers, but often cut off from one another as well. Having to take care of children and to work alongside their husbands on isolated farms, they had little time and opportunity to cultivate friendships with other women. The only members of the same sex to whom they could embosom their thoughts were their own daughters, who all too often had engrossing problems of their own."Seventeen Syllables" both begins and ends with a conversation between the mother and daughter, which is the only access the reader has to the mother's passion about writing and her past secrets. Both mother and daughter realize the difficulties in communications between one another, and suspect its dangers, yet they continue to have intimate discussions. Because we are only given Rosie's perspective, we are aware of her reservations. For example, when confronted with the intense conversation between she and her mother at the end of the story, she thinks to herself, "don't tell me now ... tell me tomorrow, tell me next week, don't tell me today." (Yamamoto 390) Although she realizes this could be the end of her world, as she knows it she listens as a way to support her mother. The mothers motive for sharing with her daughter in this way can only be gleaned from Cheung's description of life for these female immigrants. By significantly placing the conversations at both ends of the story, Yamamoto stresses these conversations, and further questions the healthy nature of such talk between mother and daughter by only giving us the daughter's perspective and allowing the reader to see her fear and reluctance in...
