Review: Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning (by Cathy Park Hong)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

Upon finishing Cathy Park Hong’s book of essays entitled Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning, I have to admit that I feel a bit conflicted.  As an Asian American woman who is close in age to Hong and also grew up in the Los Angeles area like she did, there were many experiences she described in her essays that were absolutely familiar to me – for example, struggling with identity and belonging, being discriminated against due to my race, feeling like I oftentimes have to explain my heritage to people due to preconceived biases stemming from ignorance – the list goes on and on.  Because of these shared experiences, I am able to understand wholeheartedly where Hong is coming from in her essays, even though culturally, we are from completely different backgrounds (Hong is Korean American, I’m Chinese American).   

Overall, I found Hong’s essay collection to be an insightful read and very different from a lot of what is typically written about identity and race, especially from an Asian American perspective.  The basic premise that binds all of Hong’s essays together is the concept of “minor feelings,” which Hong describes as “the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one’s perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed.”   In essence, it is the recognition that the negative emotions many Asian Americans (and other minority groups) have to deal with on a daily basis – feelings of shame, self-doubt, paranoia, suspicion, melancholy, etc.  – can be traced back to America’s history of imperialism and colonization of Asian nations, a history that resulted in the creation of an inherently racist capitalistic system that will constantly be in conflict with the reality of our racial identity.  Amongst other things, Hong writes about the “weight of indebtedness” that is a constant presence in her life as well as the lives of most immigrants regardless of background, with the context of this “indebtedness” correlating to a “gratitude” of sorts for being able to make a life for ourselves in this country.  All of Hong’s essays are infused with a raw honesty that is at the same time perceptive and intelligent, but also easy to grasp and understand. 

With all that said however, going back to why I felt conflicted after reading this book -- while there is definitely much truth to what Hong wrote and several aspects of it did actually resonate with me, there was also a large portion that I felt strayed too far from my own personal reality.  I’m not an activist and in fact, most of the time, I try to steer as clear away from politics as I possibly can.  I also don’t spend every waking moment of my life thinking about race, identity, and/or how I fit into this world as an Asian American – not because I don’t care or that I’m okay with being complacent about the racial circumstances in our society or whatnot – but rather, the practical realities of my life don’t afford me the “luxury” of constantly dwelling on identity politics and race.  Don’t get me wrong though – this doesn’t mean that if I see an injustice occurring, that I stand idly by instead of speaking up and fighting…if the circumstances warrant it, I will do what is necessary and also within my power to do.  But by the same token, it would also be “unjust” in my opinion to judge those who choose not to fight, who choose not to rock the boat, who choose the path of least resistant because they are content with living an ordinary, peaceful existence, even if it means being largely invisible and/or complacent from an identity perspective.  Forcing oneself to see everything through the lens of race and identity is exhausting and for me personally, that has never been how I want to go about my life.  At the end of the day, the most important thing, for me at least, is respecting each other’s viewpoints and choices, especially if they are different from our own. 

While my viewpoint may differ from Hong’s in many areas, I respect the fact that these essays reflect her personal thoughts and experiences and she doesn’t try to impose those onto us as readers.  I also appreciate Hong’s unflinching honesty as well as her willingness to so candidly voice her feelings.  Regardless, we definitely need more books like this one, where we get to hear different voices tell their stories – it takes a lot of courage to do so and that alone is already deserving of respect!  Definitely a recommended read, though of course with the understanding that this is Hong’s personal perspective as an Asian American living in the United States and by no means does it represent all Asian Americans.

Received ARC from One World (Random House) via NetGalley.

Review: All the Ways We Said Goodbye (by Beatriz Williams, Lauren Willig, and Karen White)

My Rating: 4 stars

Three formidable women.  Three different time periods.  One hotel that connects their stories together.    This is the premise of All the Ways We Said Goodbye, which is the latest work of historical fiction from the famous ‘Team W’ – authors Beatriz Williams, Lauren Willig, and Karen White.  I’m familiar with each of these 3 author’s works individually, however this is my first time reading one of their collaborative efforts (though I have their previous two collaborations on my bookshelf waiting for me), and seeing how much I enjoyed this one, I am definitely grateful for the opportunity. 

The story opens first in the year 1964, with recently widowed Barbara “Babs” Langford at a crossroads trying to figure out her life after the death of her beloved husband Kit.  When Babs receives a letter from an American lawyer named Drew Boudoin seeking her help with locating a Resistance fighter whom her husband possibly knew while working in Nazi-occupied France during World War II, she agrees to join him in a search that finds them traveling to Paris and the famous Ritz hotel.  We are then taken back to the year 1914, at the onset of the Great War, where Aurelie, the daughter of the Comte de Courcelles, decides to leave her mother, who has been residing at the Ritz hotel in Paris, to accompany her father at their ancestral estate in Picardy, France.  Not long after she arrives, the estate is taken over by German troops who requisition the home as well as its surrounding area for their headquarters.  During this time, Aurelie discovers that she actually knows one of the German officers – Max von Sternburg – from her debutante days in Paris and despite being on opposite sides, they strike up a friendship that later develops into something more.  The timeline then switches to 1942, where Marguerite “Daisy” Villon lives with her Nazi collaborator husband Pierre and their 2 children in Paris, a few blocks from the Hotel Ritz where she grew up and where the grandmother who raised her still lives.  After some persuasion, Daisy agrees to assist in her grandmother’s Resistance efforts by helping to deliver identity papers created by a skilled forger named Legrand, to Jewish refugees.  Eventually, Daisy gets pulled deeper into the Resistance network, where working closer and closer with Legrand with change her life in ways she never expected.

The first thing that struck me about this novel was the seamlessness of the writing in that, to me at least, there was really no way to tell that 3 different authors were involved with writing this -- this is significant given that, in their individual works, each author has her own distinct style of writing, yet here, those different styles were pretty much indistinguishable.  Given the way the story was structured – with three alternating timelines anchored by three women with distinctly different personalities – I was impressed by how cohesively the narratives flowed together.  In addition to some clever transitions thrown in that linked the end of each chapter to the beginning of the next one (which I actually didn’t catch on to until about a third of the way through the novel), the various plot points were also well-crafted in terms of joining the timelines together in a way that still left room for each character’s individual stories to be told.  Speaking of the characters – one of the things I liked most about this book was the character development aspect, especially with regard to the 3 female protagonists, all of whom I found myself rooting for.  Even the male characters were written well, which isn’t always easy to do when the female characters in the story are strong and at the forefront of driving each of the narratives forward – I felt that the authors were able to strike a good balance in this aspect in terms of giving us strong, well-developed characters on both sides.

With all that said however, I did struggle a little bit with the rating on this one, as there were a few things about this book that I had a problem with, which is why, in the end, I chose to rate this 4 stars instead of 5.  One of the biggest issues was the emotional depth of the story, which I found surprisingly lacking given the setting against the backdrop of 2 World Wars -- I was expecting to be more moved by the story and even shed a tear or two, but that didn’t happen.  Perhaps the reason for this is, while there were plenty of historical elements, all of which were incorporated well into each of the narratives, the focus of the story overall seemed to lean more heavily toward the romance aspect and the relationships between the characters.  Of course, nothing wrong with this per se, but since I’m more of a historical fiction fan and less keen on romance, it makes sense that this would impact my reading experience a bit.  Another thing was that the plot elements were largely predictable in that, from the first chapter, I kind of already knew the direction that the story would be headed (and it turns out I was spot-on in terms of how all 3 narratives tied together), so there ended being no surprises or “gut-punch” moments for me.

Overall, I did enjoy reading this one, as it had many of the things I expect in a good book:  a compelling, well-written story that kept me turning the pages;  well-developed, complex characters that I felt invested in (to different extents); a relatively fast-paced plot that flowed well; and of course, a well-incorporated historical setting.  I think fans of the 3 authors will love this one and while it wasn’t necessarily a “favorite” in my book, I liked it well enough to want to go back through all 3 authors’ backlists as well as read the previous two ‘Team W’ works that they did – hopefully some time in the near future, I will have time to do so!

Received ARC from William Morrow (HarperCollins) via NetGalley.

Review: Why We Can't Sleep (by Ada Calhoun)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

Self-help books have always been a bit of a “hit and miss” for me, which is why I’m very selective when it comes to choosing books from this genre to read.  Of course, first and foremost, the subject matter needs to be interesting and also relevant to my current situation – on this count, Ada Calhoun’s newest book Why We Can’t Sleep did deliver, however in some ways, it also fell a bit short of expectations for me.

As a member of Generation X (like the author herself), it’s refreshing to read a book that was able to articulate so much of what I have experienced and felt for most of my life up to this point.  Many of the insights that Calhoun presented were spot-on, to the point that I found myself nodding my head a lot in understanding and agreement.   In addition to being extremely well-researched, with the material laid out in a format that was organized and easy to read, one of the things I appreciated most about this book was the author’s approach to the subject matter – through interviews with hundreds of women, most of them from Generation X, all of whom candidly shared their stories about their struggles and challenges, Calhoun was able to establish a sense of resonance with readers that other books on the same subject mostly lacked.   

On a personal level, I’m the type of reader who tends to shy away from books that I consider to be too “scientific” in nature, especially ones that are overloaded with a lot of facts, figures, statistics, etc., as I usually find these books boring and as a result, I lose focus really quickly.  This book was different in that Calhoun didn’t just regurgitate a bunch of facts and results from studies to support them – rather, she incorporated her own personal experiences  as well as those of many other women from different walks of life to create a more anecdotal read, which I feel worked well.  With that said though, I think one of the things this book lacked was, ironically, the “self-help” portion, in that it didn’t really present solutions on how to overcome the challenges that Generation X often faced overall. Yes, Calhoun does talk about what worked for her, and with a few of the other women interviewed, she also covered how they ended up improving their particular situations, but a lot of it was very specific to them and their lives.  Basically, this book was insightful in terms of explaining the “why” portion, but it didn’t really go into the “what to do about how we’re feeling” portion, at least not in a way that was helpful in my circumstances. 

Overall, I feel that this book is definitely worth a read, but I think how much readers would be able to relate to it depends on their personal situations (which I believe is why the reviews for this book are all over the place).  I certainly got some things out of it (mostly knowledge in that I found out some stuff I didn’t know before), but as I said earlier, I also found quite a few things lacking.  I would still recommend this book, but with a warning not to go into it with too many pre-established expectations – if it works for you, then great, but if it doesn’t, that should be fine too.