My Rating: 4.5 stars
It's not often that I come across a book where I'm able to resonate so deeply with the main character that, as soon as I turn the last page, the first thought that pops into my head is: wow, it's been a long time since I've felt so seen! That's exactly how I felt after meeting Audrey Zhou, the main protagonist of Delia Cai's debut novel Central Places.
To be honest, Audrey wasn't a likeable character for much of the story — as I was reading, there were so many instances where I found her actions and behavior annoying and frustrating, not to mention I kept wanting to yell at her to stop being so self-destructive and making a mess of her life. With that said however, Audrey was also a character I empathized with immensely — and in some areas, saw aspects of myself in. With my shared cultural background of being the Chinese daughter of strict immigrant parents as well as growing up in an environment where very few people looked like me, I was absolutely able to relate to so much of what Audrey went through in the story, but more importantly, I was able to understand, on a deeper level, the complicated family and society dynamics that shaped her into who she eventually became as an adult and why she ended up making some of the decisions she did (even ones that I disagreed with). I'm able to empathize because I went through many of the same struggles myself (some which I am still working through even now).
On a personal level, I know what it feels like to grow up in an immigrant household where there is always an unspoken pressure to prove the worthiness of your existence; where you constantly have to worry about living your life in a way that justifies the sacrifice your parents made in leaving their prior lives behind and moving to a foreign country where they are largely treated as second class citizens; where you are expected to be obedient, to follow the path your parents laid out for you, to work hard and keep your head down, and no matter what, don't draw attention to yourself, which often involves not reacting when people make fun of you for being different (or, in a real life example, when classmates make a game of deliberately kicking the back of your legs so it looks like you are kneeling and bowing down to them); where there is constant pressure to be perfect, to succeed, and not make any mistakes along the way so as to not give those who don't want you here in the first place the satisfaction of seeing you fail; where you are destined to endlessly strive for approval and acceptance that never comes. These are just a few examples — both in the story and in my own real life experience, there are way too many examples to list them all out.
The other aspect of the story that really resonated with me was the relationship that Audrey had with her mother — the relationship was a strained one that was plagued with communication issues, misunderstandings, silence as a form of punishment, and, the most destructive of all, an unwillingness to let their true emotions show for fear of letting their guard down and exposing their vulnerabilities. For someone who may not be familiar with the unique dynamics that often define Asian (especially Chinese) mother / daughter relationships, it can be hard to understand Audrey's immature behavior when she's back in her parents' presence in Hickory Grove. For me, I understood it acutely because I lived that same reality for most of my life (and continue to do so to this day). Culturally, Asian daughters have a whole set of expectations placed upon them from the moment they are born — expectations that Asian mothers are responsible for reinforcing throughout their daughters' lives…hence the relentless criticizing / nagging / judging / critiquing that we are constantly subjected to, regardless of how old we are or how successful we become. I've actually lost count already how many of my Chinese female friends (all of whom are around my age, in their 40s, and are strong, successful, financially secure women) complain about resorting to "petulant teenager mode" each time they are in their mother's presence — a sentiment that I resonate with wholeheartedly because I'm the exact same way whenever I'm around my mom. Even though rationally, we know that arguing is fruitless because, as much as we don't want to admit it, our mothers' nitpicking is their way of expressing their love for us, the hurt and pain we experience in the moment often defies all logical thought. It's a phenomenon that's very hard to explain, but those who live it (whether daily like me since I live with my mom, or only occasionally like my friends who live separately from their moms and only visit once in awhile) will undoubtedly understand.
One other thing I have to mention is how much I appreciated the realistic portrayal of the characters and what they go through in the story. Life is messy, complicated, and unpredictable, with both good moments and bad ones that are impossible to fit nicely into a box, to be put away and taken out whenever we feel like it. This book did an especially great job showing this complexity, which is probably why the story ended up gutting me in ways I wasn't expecting — in fact, it hit so close to home for me in so many areas that, at certain points, I had to put the book down so I could clear the lump in my throat (and actually wipe the tears from my eyes a few times). For me, there was so much to unpack with this story and in all honesty, I feel like I've only scratched the surface with this review. While I focused primarily on the aspects most familiar to me, there are actually an abundance of themes in here that are worthy of further discussion (i.e.: themes such as coming to terms with the past, self-discovery and self-reflection, mixed race relationships, etc.). I definitely found this to be a worthwhile read, but I know that each person who reads this book will get something different out of it, and in some cases, may not be able to relate at all to the story, which is absolutely fine, as that's the beauty of books and reading — they meet you where you're at.
Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.
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