In the short 176-page memoir that’s Diamond Grill, Wah captures all the registers and inflections of Chineseness you never imagined, from racialised officialspeak to affectionate appellations of the various members of his mixed race family. He talks China, Chinamen, Chinks, dirty Chinks, the Chinese, Chinese kids, Chinese Canadian, Chineseness, and even draws out lexical resonance in describing himself as a chintzy tipper. All these are presented within the context of growing up (a quarter) Chinese in small town Canada. “Chink” is a racialised term used by another child to name him: “I’m fairly blond in grade four but still she calls me a chink” (34). Wah acknowledges the power of names and naming in dominant discourse: “Until Mary McNutter calls me a chink I’m not one” (98). But surprises abound. The term is also used in wry affection when talking about his “brother Donnie, the blondest Asian in [his] family.” The family reunion is a site for yet more banter, and here Wah observes that most of his cousins turn “red when they drink but Donnie lights up like a Chinatown after rain” (140). In his judgment of Donnie he casually, affectionately appropriates the word that in other contexts is hateful: “He’s pretty fair for a Chink” (140).
