Review: Homeseeking (by Karissa Chen)

My Rating: 5 stars

Karissa Chen’s debut Homeseeking is a novel that resonated deeply with me, to the point that I’m honestly not sure where to begin in terms of writing this review.  There is so much to unpack with this story, which is very aptly described as both simultaneously “epic” and “intimate” as it follows two childhood sweethearts across six decades and two continents. 

The narrative begins with the inciting incident that essentially triggers the rest of the events that occur: in 1947 Shanghai, amidst the Chinese civil war, Wang Haiwen decides to secretly enlist in the Nationalist army in order to save his brother, leaving behind not only his family, but also his girlfriend and soulmate Zhang Suchi – a decision that ends up changing the trajectories of both lives in profound ways.  The story then jumps to Los Angeles in 2008, where Haiwen and Suchi (now going by their American names “Howard” and “Sue”) are unexpectedly reunited when they bump into each other at the local 99 Ranch Market.  As the two reminisce about the past, it becomes clear that they have both endured and survived circumstances that changed them – whereas Haiwen continues to hold his memories close to his heart, Suchi insists on only looking forward and letting the past stay in the past. From there, the narrative weaves back and forth in time, tracing the path of both characters’ lives within the context of Chinese history (i.e.: WWII and the Japanese occupation, the Chinese civil war, the Great Famine and the Cultural Revolution, etc.) to reveal the circumstances that led up to that reunion.  Notably, the narrative not only alternates between both main characters’ points of view -- with Haiwen’s story moving backward in time, from the present to the past, while Suchi’s story moves forward from the past to the present, with both story arcs ultimately re-converging again in the present – it also follows them across continents, from Asia (Shanghai, Hong Kong, Taiwan) to North America (California and New York).  Throughout their separate (and at times very disparate) journeys and despite the many changes that their lives undergo, one thing that remains constant in in terms of Haiwen’s and Suchi’s relationship is the determination to never lose sight of the meaning of home (including their parents and the sacrifices they made), which they continue to keep in their hearts no matter where they end up.

There was actually so much I loved about this book – the beautiful writing, the poignant, moving story arc, the authentic portrayal of history and culture, the complex structure that was executed near flawlessly, the wonderful character development (I honestly did not want to let go of these characters even after I finished reading the book), just to name a few.  But what made this the ultimate reading experience for me was the fact that I was able to connect with the story on all levels, from the overarching themes to the minute details about the settings, language, culture, history, etc.

While on the surface, Homeseeking may appear to be a love story that highlights the enduring power of love to transcend time and place, I would argue that the story actually goes way deeper than that.  Yes, there are indeed elements of a love story – specifically about two star-crossed lovers who are fated to find their way back to each other (given the epigraph, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I found Haiwen and Suchi’s fated/fateful love relationship to be reminiscent of Shijun and Manzhen from Eileen Chang’s famous classic Half a Lifelong Romance) – but for someone like me who grew up as part of the Chinese diaspora in Los Angeles, I found special meaning in this story that went beyond the romance / love story elements. 

First, the setting – for the parts of the story that took place in Los Angeles, I loved seeing the mentions of so many places that I was familiar with – for example: Monterey Park and San Gabriel are usual haunts for most of us in the LA Chinese immigrant community (if you want the best authentic Chinese food in LA, those are the places to be) and of course, the 99 Ranch Market is as ubiquitous to us as H Mart is to the Korean community (I will admit that as I was reading, I did have one of those book nerd moments where I was tempted to research whether the 99 Ranch Market that Haiwen and Suchi meet at is the same one I frequent, LOL).  I also got a kick out of the scenes about encountering rush hour traffic on the freeways and the mentions of how long it takes to get from one place to another in LA (story of my life right there, haha).

In terms of setting though, Los Angeles wasn’t the only connection for me to the story.  I was born in Hong Kong, my mom is from Shanghai, and some of my relatives live in Taiwan, so those are all places that are more than familiar to me, whether from a history, culture, cuisine, language, geography, etc. aspect (it always elevates the reading experience when I’m able to recognize so many of the cultural, historical, etc. elements in a book). 

With that said, one of the biggest things that made this book such a meaningful read for me was the way that the author, Karissa Chen, handled the language aspect. Not only does Chen not directly translate many of the Chinese words and phrases in the book (with the exception of the few instances where she added notes in the back of the book for context), she also incorporates the local language and/or dialect based on the region that those scenes are set in.  For example, in the scenes set in Shanghai, the names as well as Chinese words and phrases are in Shanghainese (with some Mandarin depending on the situation), the scenes in Hong Kong are in Cantonese, the ones in Taiwan are in both Taiwanese and Mandarin. Even “Chinglish” was incorporated into some of the scenes set in Los Angeles! In her “Note on Languages” at the beginning of the book (which is an absolute must read in order to understand the structure of the story), Chen explains her approach in structuring the language in this manner as a way to faithfully represent both the different languages in Chinese-speaking communities as well as the lived experiences of those who have to navigate multiple languages on a daily basis:

“One of the challenges in writing an English-language story about the Chinese and Taiwanese diaspora is figuring out how to faithfully represent the different Sinitic languages spoken in different regions (and sometimes even within the same region). Because the Chinese written language uses a representational (versus phonetic) system, the same written word has many different pronunciations, depending on what language the speaker is using. This includes names. Given that my characters move within various Chinese-speaking regions of the world, I wanted to make sure to denote their code-switching in a way that would feel accurate. Therefore, each character may be referred to in a multitude of ways and may even broaden or change the way they think of themselves given a situation or over time. For this reason, chapters have not been labeled by character names, as our characters’ names evolve over time… For many people in the world, learning more than one language is a necessity, either because of migration or simply because the place they live in is a global one and survival dictates it. It is a skill that requires an ability to adapt and challenge oneself, and for many immigrants, it’s one of the most difficult, humbling, and uneasy parts of coming to a new country. If you, the reader, find yourself confused, I hope instead of giving up, you might take a moment to imagine what it must be like for those who have to navigate this on a daily basis, and then forge onward.”

I love and appreciate the fact that Chen not only pays such meticulous attention to language usage, but also makes a genuine effort to reflect our code-switching as well.  In my case, it so happens that all the Chinese languages and dialects used in the book (Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese, Taiwanese, and yes, “Chinglish,” which was actually the language of my childhood) are also ones that I’m familiar with due to being amongst a community of family, friends, and relatives who speak one or more of these languages on a constant basis.  As an avid reader of English-language books about the Chinese diaspora, I can’t emphasize how rare it is to encounter a book that strives to represent the various Chinese-speaking regions in such a thoughtful and sincere way (though it’s not just the language – the historical and cultural elements are authentically represented as well). For me, this attentiveness to authenticity alone makes this an absolutely worthwhile read!

As this review is already quite long, I won’t go into every aspect of the book that made it such a personal and rewarding reading experience for me, but I have to mention one more thing:  this book made me cry genuine tears – not just because of the moving story (though yes, that definitely played a role), but because the familiarity and personal connections I felt to so many aspects of the story made me feel seen and understood in a way that no reading experience has made me feel in a very long time; to encounter books like this one is one reason why I read! 

Definitely pick this one up if you get a chance, as it’s a 5+ star read that’s well worth the time (especially highly recommended if you’re a fan of Eileen Chang’s works like I am).

 

Review: Three Days in June (by Anne Tyler)

My Rating: 4 stars

Anne Tyler’s latest novel may be a short, quick read, but it contains the same low-key yet poignant exploration of human nature that is a common feature of nearly all her books. Tyler is a master at taking mundane, everyday events and turning them into a meaningful story – one with substance and heart and subtle humor.  Her characters are always so relatable, probably because they are ordinary people going through ordinary life events, with emotions that always feel so real. 

This time around, the main character is Gail Baines, a 61-year-old who loses her long-time job as assistant headmistress at her town’s school over a lack of “people skills.” As if that weren’t bad enough, her only daughter Debbie is getting married the next day, yet as mother of the bride, Gail feels like an interloper – not only is she barely involved in any of the wedding planning (the mother of the groom has pretty much taken care of everything), it also looks like no one bothered to tell her about the special pre-wedding spa day that the mother of the groom organized for all the women in the wedding party.  But the worst is when Gail’s ex-husband Max (from whom she has been divorced for over 20 years) shows up unannounced on her doorstep with a stray cat in tow.  True to its title, the story unfolds over the course of these 3 particular days in June – the day before Debbie’s wedding, the day of the wedding (or “D-Day” as it is referred to in the chapter heading), and the day after – though there are also snippets interspersed throughout that provide some insight into Gail and Max’s past as well as how their marriage ended up falling apart.  The story is narrated entirely from Gail’s first-person perspective, which has the effect of giving us a front-row seat to Gail’s thoughts and feelings as she reflects on everything going on around her.

While I did find Gail to be frustrating at times with her stubborn adherence to certain perfectionistic tendencies that made some things in her life harder than they needed to be, at the same time, I also connected with her introverted, socially awkward nature.  There were moments that resonated quite deeply, where I found myself nodding my head and thinking, “yes, I know that feeling exactly!” – though of course, there were also moments that made me wonder what in the world Gail was thinking. 

With Three Days in June, Tyler once again provides us with a nuanced portrayal of human relationships rendered in her signature style.  While this was certainly not the most engaging of Tyler’s novels that I’ve read, it was enjoyable nevertheless.  Definitely recommended!

 

Review: Good Dirt (by Charmaine Wilkerson)

My Rating: 4 stars

I really enjoyed Charmaine Wilkerson’s debut novel Black Cake, which I found to be a very interesting story told in a way that was so different from what I had read before.  That story was told not just from multiple perspectives, but also jumped around through multiple locations and time periods; plot-wise, the narrative unfolded around a female protagonist, a treasured family heirloom, and secrets from the past that significantly impact the characters’ present and futures, all while shining a light on aspects of history.  Wilkerson’s sophomore effort, Good Dirt, follows largely the same pattern structurally, yet it is also a completely different story. 

The story begins with a tragedy – 10-year-old Ebby Freeman is playing hide-and-seek with her beloved 15-year-old brother Baz at their home in an affluent New England neighborhood when two men enter and shoot Baz dead.  The tragedy garners massive media attention, mostly due to the fact that the Freemans are one of the few African American families living in an exclusive enclave where all the other wealthy families are predominantly white.  Despite the media frenzy over the case, the crime is never solved.  Ebby, now 29-years-old, is about to be married to Henry Pepper, who is also from an affluent and influential New England family, but on her wedding day, her fiancé ghosts her, leaving her to deal with yet another barrage of unwanted media attention when her family is thrust back into the spotlight due to the high-profile nature of the relationship.  Ebby ends up fleeing to France, where she hopes that a solitary retreat at her friend Hannah’s village house will help her heal – a hope that is upended when Ebby’s past catches up to her.  At the same time, Ebby continues to deal with the trauma of Baz’s death 18 years ago and the survivor’s guilt that has followed her since that moment she found her brother lying bloodied on the floor of their home, surrounded by shattered pieces of a stoneware jar – an heirloom that had been in their family for nearly two centuries.  The heirloom’s significance – both to Ebby’s family as well as to her own future – becomes the main thread that links the narrative’s various threads together.

Just like Black Cake, this story is beautifully written and one that explores complex themes of grief, trauma, racism, etc. interwoven with heartbreak and loss, yet also balances this with themes of love, courage, resilience, and hope.  Ebby is a character I couldn’t help rooting for – Wilkerson did a great job developing her character arc in such a way that it was easy to connect with her experiences despite being from different backgrounds.  I also appreciated how part of the story was told from Ebby’s parents’ points of view as well, which provided important insight and perspective on the various events that happen in the novel.  The historical elements also blended nicely with the present-day timeline, as Wilkerson explored the Freeman family’s origins as well as the significance of the heirloom that played such a central role in the story.

This one is highly recommended, especially if you enjoyed Wilkerson’s phenomenal debut.  For me, both books were equally great reads, though I think Black Cake stuck with me more because it dealt with more obscure history that was less familiar to me.  Either way, Good Dirt is a well-told, fascinating, and thought-provoking story definitely worth the read!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes (by Chanel Cleeton)

My Rating: 4 stars 

As much as I wish for it to be otherwise, my reading life is off to a late start this year.  I wasn’t able to read much in January or February due to some things I had to take care of in my personal life, so now, heading into March, I’m trying to play catch up with my TBR.  Though I guess if I’m being honest, it’s not that I didn’t do any reading the past 2 months (because I’m always reading something), but rather I didn’t want to spend time writing about it.  In any case, now that I have things a little bit more under control, I’m starting to slowly but surely clear out my ARC list.

 

It's actually a little bit ironic that the first ARC I’m starting with this year doesn’t publish until July, but that’s how things ended up turning out.  The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes is Chanel Cleeton’s latest Cuban-themed historical fiction novel and it’s definitely a good one!  I’ve read most (but not all) of Cleeton’s past novels and especially enjoyed her series about the Perez family, though her other novels (the ones not about the Perez family) have been a hit or miss for me overall.  With this latest one, I’m guessing I enjoyed it so much because the storyline revolves around a lost book and its connection to three women from three different time periods. 

In the present timeline (London in 2024), Margo Reynolds is hired to help her client find a rare book that was written 120 years ago, but there is a huge catch – only one copy of the book is currently in existence.  Though Margo accepts the challenge, she quickly realizes that she may actually be in over her head as other parties interested in the book start to come out of the woodwork and her life is placed in danger.  The timeline then moves to Havana in 1966, where librarian Pilar Castillo lives in grief and anger over the loss of her husband, who was arrested and imprisoned for going against Fidel Castro’s regime.  Pilar comes into possession of the mysterious book when it is turned over to her for safekeeping by a neighbor and eventually becomes more than a source of comfort for her as she endures the difficulties of living under Castro’s repressive regime.  Finally, the third timeline, in 1900, introduces us to the author of the book, Eva Fuentes, a Cuban teacher who is given the opportunity to travel to the United States as part of a summer cultural exchange program at Harvard University. During Eva’s stay there, she experiences both joy and heartbreak that not only end up altering the course of her life, but also provide the inspiration for her novel.

 

I have to admit that I was a bit dubious at first how the story would unfold given how far apart the three timelines were.  It turns out I didn’t have to worry though, as Cleeton definitely knew what she was doing in making Eva’s book the central thread that connected the seemingly disparate timelines together, but in a way that was seamless and made sense for the story’s development.  Given my affinity for historical fiction, no doubt that I enjoyed Eva’s and Pilar’s timelines more -- Margo’s timeline was well done overall, but since the three timelines alternated with each chapter, it did feel a little jarring to jump from an early 20^th century historical setting to a modern day murder mystery setting in 2024.  Things turned out fine in the end though.

 

As an avid reader and also a writer myself, I love learning about the behind-the-scenes aspects of how a particular story came to be as well as the inspirations for certain characters and events, which is perhaps why Cleeton’s latest work resonated with me more than her previous novels did.  Speaking of behind-the-scenes, Cleeton writes in her Author’s Note that The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes is a “love letter to the power of books and the impact they leave on our lives,” which is one of the main reasons why she had Eva’s fictional book be what links the three women in the three different timelines together.  I couldn’t agree more!  Cleeton fans will definitely want to pick this one up, but those who enjoy “books about books” will likely enjoy this one as well.

 

Received ARC from Berkley via Book Browse First Impressions program.

2024 Year in Review

Happy New Year!!!

As I type up this post literally 20 minutes into the start of the new year, I recognize that this is the latest that I’ve ever posted my “year in review” recap since I started tracking my reading a few years back.  Another first for me this year (2024) in terms of my reading life is that I was way off the mark with my reading goals – at the beginning of the year, I had planned to read between 50-60 books, which is the range that I had been averaging the past few years, however I ended up having to revise my reading goal in the middle of the year when I realized I was nowhere near being able to make the number I had initially planned.  I ended the year with 31 books logged and read* according to Goodreads as well as my reading log (though as noted with the *, there is a caveat which I will explain later in this post).

 

My reading life this year has been an interesting one. I would say that the best way to describe it would be a “quality over quantity” year.  Sure, I didn’t end up reading as many books as I usually do, but nearly every book I read (with the exception of 3) fell into the 4-5 star range, which is, of course, a rare occurrence, even for a reader like me who is highly selective about what I read (mostly due to time constraints with having to juggle so many things going on in my life).

 

Another thing I realize as I reflect on my reading life this year is that I have been less of a stickler with the “mechanics” of reading – for example, religiously logging and writing a review for every book I read and not allowing myself to move on to another book until I do so – and instead, let the reading experience speak for itself.  Now I have to be honest in saying that I didn’t plan it this way – as the year started, I was just as determined as I’ve been in the past to log and review every book I read, but halfway through the year, the plan kind of fell apart because both work and school became increasingly busy – that coupled with additional responsibilities at home that placed further constraints on my time made it difficult to stay with the plan…once I started falling behind with my reading, it was nearly impossible to catch up. 

 

And here is where the caveat comes into play.  For school especially, I had a few classes where we had to read entire books (there were a few months where I actually read 1 book a week) and given that we had to write extensively about these books for class (including, in some cases, academic papers), I felt like it would be overkill to write reviews for these books on top of that (plus I was in a time crunch), so I decided to forego that process.  I would estimate that there were around 10-12 books I had read this year that fell into this category.

 

Overall, I would have to say that, despite not meeting my reading goals this past year (in terms of actual numbers, that is), I’m still quite happy with my reading life, as I was able to read more high quality, meaningful books this year than in years past.  Of course, being the perfectionist that I am, I will probably set an overly ambitious reading goal again in 2025 (and end up falling short of the number and having to adjust it mid-year), but given what I experienced this past year, I am not going to worry about it and see how things play out.

 

So without further ado, here is my recap of the books I read 2024 (again, these are the ones that I had actually logged and wrote reviews for).  Note that after ditching ratings for my recap last year, I decided to go back to listing based on ratings, mostly because I’m already late with this post and ratings was the easiest way to go…

 

**

 

Favorite Reads of 2024

 

Books I rated 5 stars:

 

-        The Book of Fire by Christy Lefteri (published 2024)

-        Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro (published 2010)

-        The God of the Woods by Liz Moore (published 2024)

-        The Lost Story by Meg Shaffer (published 2024)

-        And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini (published 2013)

-        Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates (published 2015)

 

 

Books I rated 4.5 stars:

 

-        Mercury by Amy Jo Burns (published 2024)

-        The Women by Kristin Hannah (published 2024)

-        After Annie by Anna Quindlan (published 2024)

-        Real Americans by Rachel Khong (published 2024)

-        Only the Beautiful by Susan Meissner (published 2023)

-        Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (published 1814)

-        The Briar Club by Kate Quinn (published 2024)

-        Rental House by Weike Wang (published 2024)

 

 

Books I rated 4 stars:

 

-        Atonement by Ian McEwan (published 2001)

-        River East, River West by Aube Rey Lescure (published 2024)

-        The Storm We Made by Vanessa Chan (published 2024)

-        Supercommunicators by Charles Duhigg (published 2024)

-        The Twilight Garden by Sara Nisha Adams (published 2024)

-        The Return of Ellie Black by Emiko Jean (published 2024)

-        Shelterwood by Lisa Wingate (published 2024)

-        Viewfinder: A Memoir of Seeing and Being Seen by Jon M. Chu (published 2024)

-        Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout (published 2024)

-        Here One Moment by Liane Moriarty (published 2024)

-        The Sequel by Jean Hanff Korelitz (published 2024)

-        Dreaming in Cuban by Cristina Garcia (published 2011)

-        Meditations for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman (published 2024)

-        Beautiful Ugly by Alice Feeney (publishes 2025)

 

 

Books I rated 3 to 3.5 stars:

 

-        The Other Side of Disappearing by Kate Clayborn (published 2024)

-        The House on Biscayne Bay by Chanel Cleeton (published 2024)

-        Like Mother, Like Mother by Susan Rieger (published 2024)

Review: Beautiful Ugly (by Alice Feeney)

 My Rating: 4 stars 

Alice Feeney has become one of my “go-to” authors in the thriller/suspense genre over the years, to the point that I’ll automatically pick up any new book she writes, sometimes before I even know what the story will be about.  Having read all of Feeney’s books, I’ve enjoyed nearly all of them, though there have definitely been some that were more “miss” than “hit” (and only one book so far that I hated enough to regret reading).  Her newest book, Beautiful Ugly, is one that I have mixed feelings about.  On the one hand, I continue to be blown away by Feeney’s ability to come up with original, mind-boggling twists for story after story (she is known as the “Queen of Twists” after all) -- most of the time, when I read her books, I’m not able to guess the ending (this newest book, with its back-to-back twists dropped one after the other near the end, certainly was no exception).  On the other hand, I also feel that, with each book, the plot seems to get more convoluted and the ending a tad more outlandish while the characters behave in ways that make them less likeable as the story unfolds (all of which were definitely the case here).  With all that said, I also feel that this book is Feeney’s most atmospheric one to date (I heard that there are sound effects on the audio book version that enhances the atmospheric experience manifold, so might want to give that version a try), as well as the most clever – even though I’ve read all of Feeney’s books and am more than familiar with her style, the various twists still took me by surprise (after I finished the book, I realized that she had mirrored a very similar format from a previous book for one of the twists, but it was so smooth and seamless that I totally did not catch on). 

 

I’m keeping this review brief and vague on purpose, as there really isn’t a whole lot that can be said without giving parts of the story away.  I read some reviews that say this book is Feeney’s best one yet and while I don’t necessarily agree with that statement, I will say that it is definitely one of her better ones.  This is also the “twist-y-ist” of all her novels in the sense that there are multiple “what the heck just happened” moments that kept me turning the pages and wanting to know how everything comes together.  As for the ending – all I’m going to say is that the opinions are bound to be mixed on it (for me personally, I haven’t figured out how I feel yet about what happens at the end).  Overall, my favorite of Feeney’s novels is still her debut Sometimes I Lie, followed closely by Rock Paper Scissors (His & Hers was pretty good as well, but not as memorable as these two).  This newest book will definitely satisfy long-time Feeney fans, though for those who have never read her, I wouldn’t recommend starting with this one.  Also, her novels tend to lean darker on the psychological thriller spectrum, so that’s something to keep in mind as well.  I’m honestly curious to see what Feeney will come up with next – she has written 7 books so far and all of them have been very different both in scope and story, so I wonder which direction she will go next.  Whatever the case, I know I will be there for it!

Review: Rental House (by Weike Wang)

 

My Rating: 4.5 stars

A couple weeks ago, I had made a plan to take advantage of the vacation time I would have during the last two weeks of December to catch up on as many 2024 reads as possible. While I realize now in hindsight that this plan was a bit too ambitious given all the family obligations I had around the holidays, I’m glad I put in the effort because even though I won’t get through as much as I had planned, at least I’m making a decent dent to my TBR pile.
 

One of the books that I have been looking forward to reading ever since I found out about it is Rental House, Weike Wang’s third novel that she wrote during the pandemic. I loved her previous novel, Joan is Okay, which resonated with me deeply and was a 5-star read for me, so of course it’s no surprise that this new book was high on my list of must-reads.  I finally got around to reading the book this week and I’m definitely glad I did.  At only 213 pages, this slim novel is a quick read, but yet, one that also packs a punch.

 

In Rental House, Wang presents a marriage between two people from completely opposite ends of the cultural divide.  Keru was born in China, but immigrated to the United States with her parents as a child and despite having completely assimilated into American culture (including becoming a citizen through naturalization), she is still viewed as “foreign” by many people, including her own in-laws.  Keru’s parents, who are strict and demanding (as most immigrant Chinese parents are), expect perfection at every turn and believe that only through endless striving and struggle can immigrants such as themselves gain success in a country not of one’s origin. Nate is white and from a rural Appalachian, working-class family that distrusts intellect and striving as a means to get ahead and instead believes that those in a position of wealth (including the government) should be expected to help them out.  Despite being from two disparate cultures, Keru and Nate marry after college and instead of having kids, decide to raise a sheepdog whom they name Mantou (which means “steamed bun” in Chinese).  The book is divided into two parts, with part 1 being about a vacation in Cape Cod with Keru and Nate as well as both sets of in-laws (albeit separately – Keru’s parents visit first, then Nate’s parents), while part 2 takes place 5 years later, with Keru and Nate vacationing in the Catskills, this time without either set of in-laws (though their presence is still hugely felt despite not being there physically).  The story essentially chronicles the culture clash that ensues as Keru and Nate navigate a life together while simultaneously having to deal with the differences between their families.

 

As a Chinese American woman, I always feel seen whenever I read Weike Wang’s works – more than when I read other works by Chinese/Chinese American authors – probably because of how realistically she is able to portray the Chinese American experience in a modern-day setting.  I love how Wang captures the nuances of the Chinese American experience so perfectly and precisely every time – though in Rental House, the differences are more out in the open due to the juxtaposition of the two main characters who are from such disparate and opposite backgrounds. Given my own background, I especially resonated with Keru’s struggles: the pressure that her Chinese immigrant parents place on her to achieve success, with this success in turn being used as justification that her parents’ sacrifices were not in vain; the never-ending identity struggle that comes with being caught between two disparate cultures; constantly having to weigh the necessity of assimilation against the risk of losing her own cultural identity; and the nagging feeling that, even when she does everything right (works hard, gains prestige and wealth through a respected, high-paying job), it is somehow never going to be enough.  Most of all though, I resonated deeply with the way Keru behaves in the presence of her parents, especially her mother. Growing up with my background, I’ve found that one of the biggest things that my non-Asian friends have the hardest time understanding is the relationship dynamic between the Chinese mother and her children (sons to a certain extent but especially daughters).  In the face of relentless criticism from our Chinese mothers, the most common question that Chinese daughters such as myself get asked is why do we behave the way we do in front of our mothers and furthermore, why do we allow our mothers to treat us this way in the first place.  What those who ask this question fail to understand is that, for Chinese mothers, criticism (especially toward Chinese daughters) is their love language – it’s something so ingrained and such a natural element of the Chinese parent/child relationship that, when we’re in each other’s presence, we automatically slot into our roles without even realizing it.  Weike Wang is one of the few Chinese American authors I’ve read who is able to convey this dynamic so well on the page and I love her for it!

 

With all that said, my favorite novel of Wang’s is still Joan is Okay, but this newest one isn’t too far behind.  I will pretty much read anything Wang writes at this point, and I’m hoping her next novel won’t take too long to come out.

 

Also, one last thing I want to put out there: as those who are familiar with Weike Wang’s works probably know, her style is not for everyone.  She writes with a wry, ironic wit in a snarky, dead-pan style that is oftentimes misunderstood, perhaps because she is unapologetic about portraying her main protagonists in all their quirky, eccentric, realistically flawed glory, which may not work for all audiences.  Her books also tend to be heavily character-driven and not only lack a coherent plot, but also lean more toward “slice-of-life vignette” territory where parts of the story may feel abrupt or incomplete.  This kind of style may not work for all readers, so it’s important to keep this in mind when deciding whether to pick this one up.