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With the dire combination of the Holiday shopping season approaching and the massive recall of toys and other products made in China, Sara Bongiorni's book "A Year Without Made In China" is a very timely book. The premise of the book is based on the author's personal odyssey to see if she and her family could survive a year without buying Chinese made products, for no other reason other than to see if it were possible. It shows how prevalent and dependent the American consumer has become, without even knowing it, on macroeconomics which has shifted the balance of trade in an invisible but inevitable way. The book Bongiorni has written deals with her personal experience with this boycott, her reactions, and those of her family members who were joined in the adventure, whether willingly, as in the case of her husband, or unwillingly, as in the case of her children. It is a story of how the geopolitical becomes the personal in the most mundane things that hardly get thought about in daily life, those items that many in the West buy without thinking much about, such as sneakers or Mandarin oranges. Throughout the book, country-of-origin labels become such a prominent character in the story that they nearly become the protagonist (or maybe, antagonist), that it is hard to forget about them once the book is finished. Bongiorni's adventure began well before the numerous recalls that have plagued the economic relationship between the United States and China in 2007. An American living outside of New Orleans who is also business writer, Bongiorni happens to be surveying the landscape of her house just after Christmas 2004, when she realizes that she is surrounded by China in the form of everyday products: shoes, socks, lamps, dolls, even the dog's chew toys. The more she notices it, the more it seems to stand out to her. Due to her profession, she is well aware of the trade imbalance that affects the two countries, with the United States on the losing end. But it is seeing it strewn all over her own living room that raises her to a clarion call: What if she tried to avoid adding anymore Chinese products to her life for an entire year? Given the ubiquitous nature of Chinese merchandise, is it even possible to embark upon a middle class lifestyle without using China as a broker? This simple question leads her upon her journey to boycott China, at least while she is at the store. The quest that Bongiorni foists upon her family has nothing to with geopolitics, at least in any activist sense. There is no deep impulse or inclination to protest against American manufacturing jobs being outsourced to China or rage against the treatment of Chinese workers in sweatshops, although Bongiorni is well aware of these facts and has qualms against both conditions. In talking with her mother (who is an advocate for the poor and disenfranchised) at the beginning of the boycott, she states simply that this is intended as an experiment with no other real reason than it can be done. That sets up a boycott that is more playful in tone than one mired in outraged justice, and seeps into the atmosphere of the book, which is more fun and casual rather than businesslike and austere. Getting China out of Bongiorni's house turns into a relative thing: she decides against throwing out products already purchased, and places several loopholes in the boycott. Gifts, internal components, and products from Taiwan and Hong Kong are exempt from the Made in China boycott. It isn't terribly long before these loopholes come into play, and she uses them herself to circumvent the rules that she herself has set up. Her own heritage makes this whole thing relative to begin with: she has a Chinese ancestor who married into her German family several centuries earlier. Every time she sees a dark hair in her head or that of her daughter's (both of whom are on the fair side), she is reminded of the throwback, and how much China has come to be part of her life. Her reflection of this is no xenophobia. She embraces her heritage, and is no demagogue ranting against "yellow peril". Rather, the hair becomes a symbol of how intricate her relationship with China really is. The antics that Bongiorni experiences as a consumer are the dominant feature of this book. "A Year Without Made In China" is less a discourse about the dynamics of economics and more a dialogue with the neighborhood mom trying to deal with the ups and downs of raising a family in day to day life. Bongiorni's casual voice lends a more chatty and conversational tone to the book than if she had written a hardcore business treatise. But the tone works well for what Bongiorni is trying to convey: how the faraway economic reality of China, which seems intangible in its invisibility, affects the everyday life of a suburban mom with a career outside of the home in how she raises her family. The geopolitical becomes the personal and the individual in this context. The book is cheery enough to make that macro reality seem secondary, but even with that veneer polishing it over, it can't help but to take center stage. To me, the only major drawback of the book was that its everyday chatter began to read more like a diary listing events that began to repeat themselves. Bongiorni was trying as best as possible to cover the scope of what it was like to go the whole year with the boycott. To be fair, this repeating effect she depicts is what she had to go through herself, so it is an accurate reflection of the drudgery that she endured in her quest. Other than that criticism, the book is enjoyable without being dictatorial, and Bongiorni makes it clear of what it is like to try to circumvent the Chinese side of the economic trade. With the current recalls, it may be a prescient realization that mindless buying leads to trouble on all sides, and that consumerism needs foresight and wisdom to be humane for all parties involved. |
