3. “Our inner trees, our veins, are involuted, cocooned, webbed. The blood cells in the trunks of our bodies, like tiny specks of light, move in a sluggish river. It is more a potential than an actual river – an electric liquid – the current flowing in between us, between our generations. […] Towards the ends of our branches and fingertips, tiny human-shaped flames or leaves break off and leap towards the shadow. My arms are suffused with the suppressed urge to hold. […] With a putty knife, [obasan] begins to scrape off the thick clay like mud that sticks to my boots.”
In Kogawa’s “Obassan,” the main role of an old woman Obasan always keeps silent to avoid talking about her past and her family history. Even though she rejects to talk details of her family history to her children, she does not want to totally forget of them. She has a controversy in her deep heart. “Our inner tree” (90) in “Obasan” means Obasan’s family tree. From her ancient to current generation, from the past to present, the tree symbolizes Obasan’s family history. Kogawa uses a structure of human body to celebrate the theme of organization. Whatever the thing is, it has an order with “trunks” (90) and “branches” (90). A poem connects a biological science with a family. People’s daily life is scientifically. Our life is filled in with pressures as if “arms are suffused with the suppressed urge to hold.” When a tiny thing happens, we can find the reason(s). “Ends of our branches and fingertips” (90) are adjusted by nerves. Any thin nerve is controlled by a central nerve, which is located in brain and backbone, like a trunk. The trunk links roots and branches together as an organic system. Whatever the weather is warm and sunny or stormy or cold from year to year, the tree is alive from spring to winter and so on. Obasan’s family from her father’s generation to hers and to her children’s, it conquers a huge amount of difficulties and grows generously.
