In "Saving Fish From Drowning," Amy Tan tells a story we already know about oafish American tourists at loose in the world. Still, she's such a beguiling writer that we go along as armchair travelers.
Twelve smugly privileged San Franciscan culture vultures fly off to a remote area of western China with the intention of crossing into Myanmar (the name Burma acquired under its brutal military regime). They complain about the less than five-star accommodations while stupidly rooting about for "authentic" ethnic experiences. They'll be paid back in terms of loose bowel movements (endlessly detailed) and anger from the local authorities, who view the tourists' stumbling into shrines as a transgression.
The posthumous narrator is Bibi Chen, a socialite who was found dead in her shop with a rake-like wound in her throat days before departure. She had organized the tour, and might have spared the natives the worst of her friends' behavior, and vice versa. But observing from the afterlife, she can do little to prevent their kidnapping.
Having finessed their way into Myanmar, the tourists continue to play the fool. Harry, a celebrity dog-trainer back home, sets his room on fire with a candle as he attempts to seduce art dealer Marlena. Dysentery fells a few of them. Meanwhile, 15-year-old Rupert, seen doing card tricks by a tribe in need of a savior, is taken to be the reincarnated Younger White Brother, lord of the deities controlling misfortune.
Tan steps up her satire as the foreigners are tricked into following the tribe to their remote village hidden in the mountains.
As poor as it is, the self-titled Lord's Army has managed to install a big-screen television, which allows the Americans to tune in when the search for them becomes global news.
Harry, who was left behind, is manipulated into appearing in tourist spots by Myanmar regimists who cleverly seize an opportunity for spin control. In time, the tribal brothers' dream of starring in their own "Survivor"-like reality show gives way to preparations for a mass suicide when it's reported the military is coming.
Despite humor this broad, Tan still infuses the story with the spirituality common to her books. Yet while she excels in detailing cultural divisions, the farce is somewhat leaden. Perhaps it's that the boorishness of rich Americans who imagine themselves in touch with the world's suffering is just too obvious a target.