Review: Made in China: A Memoir of Love and Labor (by Anna Qu)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

As I continue my new-found audio book journey, I’ve been focusing on listening to memoirs and other non-fiction works that I’ve had on my TBR list for ages, but never got around to reading previously.  One such memoir is Anna Qu’s Made in China: A Memoir of Love and Labor, which I can’t remember why I had on my list, but I’m glad I finally got to it.  To be honest, the subtitle of this one is kind of misleading, as there was little to nothing about “love” in these pages, though the part about “labor” is true enough.  Not long after Qu’s father dies when she was a baby, her mother goes to America to pursue a better life, leaving Qu behind in China in the care of her grandparents.  At five years old, Qu is finally reunited with her mother and her new family in Queens, New York, but instead of being a happy reunion, this becomes the start of a nightmare for Qu.  In addition to being forced to work at her mother and stepfather’s garment factory (aka sweatshop), Qu is also repeatedly abused by her mother, who favors Qu’s half-siblings (a brother and sister) and alternates between treating Qu as a maid (making her take care of all the household choirs as well as both of her half-siblings) or pretending she doesn’t exist.  Qu spends most of the book detailing the abuse she suffers at her mother’s hand, such as when she is punished for doing her homework and thrown out of the house by her stepfather at the direction of her mother.  The most harrowing instance of abuse is when Qu’s mother beats her with a hanger for daring to tell her half-sister to ask for permission before using her colored pencils – an incident that nearly kills Qu when she tries to jump out the window to avoid her mother’s violence.  Pushed to the end of her rope, Qu alerts the Office of Children and Family Services through her school’s guidance counselor and after an investigation, Qu sees her situation improve in that she no longer has to work in the family’s sweatshop (where any money she “earned” went to her abusive mother) and instead, she is allowed to make her own money through jobs such as a dental assistant and waitressing.  Even though the social worker assigned by the OCFS, Mary, helps make Qu’s life a little bit better, the one thing that Mary is not able to help Qu with is the one thing she desperately wants – to make her mother love her.  Qu eventually goes off to college and becomes estranged from her mother for the most part (though she does go back to visit her mother, stepfather, and half-siblings at their Queens home and has dinner with them as though nothing happened, which I honestly found a bit baffling given everything she suffered in that family, culminating with her mother’s most recent refusal to provide her with the signature needed for her to continue with her schooling).

In the second half of the book, which takes place 20 years later, Qu recounts her experience working at a start-up company that is on the brink of collapsing.  This portion of the memoir I felt was kind of irrelevant to everything that occurred in the first half (though perhaps Qu included it to show how miserable her life continued to be due to all the lingering trauma from the abuse?).  During this time, Qu decides to request her OCFS report and when she receives it, she is shocked to find tons of inaccuracies with the report, all the way down to the OCFS finding that there was no evidence that Qu was ever abused.  This revelation, along with the discovery that her mother had kept the news of her beloved grandfather’s death a secret from her, devastates Qu.  Though the memoir does end on a slightly positive note with Qu being reunited with the grandmother who raised her in China and the only person in her family who truly loves her unconditionally, that scene felt too short and abrupt to counteract the “heaviness” of everything that came before it.

Overall, I found this to be an uncomfortable read, not just because of the subject matter, but also because there were points throughout the memoir (though mostly near the end) where it came across as though Qu was trying to justify her mother’s abusive behavior by relating it to the struggles she endured being widowed at a young age and then having to build a life for herself after immigrating to America alone. In a segment near the end of the book, it almost felt like Qu was trying to find excuses for her mother, insinuating that perhaps the hardship of having to overcome her situation as a Chinese immigrant woman in America is what made her violent and abusive, which might be true, but then seems to dismiss everything else she had written prior to that. 

The other thing that made this a not-too-pleasant listen was the narrator of the audio book (not the author) who read the entire book in a tone that sounded perpetually angry and bitter.  While it can be argued that using such a tone probably makes sense in this case given the subject matter, it felt grating after awhile, especially after listening for several hours straight, and put me in a depressed mood.  I think this is an instance where it would’ve been better for me to actually read the book instead of listening to it via audio.

Review: The Things We Never Say (by Elizabeth Strout)

My Rating: 5 stars

I didn’t think that I could love another Elizabeth Strout character as much as I love Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton but gosh darn it, Artie Dam has definitely earned a place at the top alongside my two favorite characters from the Strout universe!

On the outside, Artie seems to live a happy life – he has a teaching job he loves, a son he adores, a wife with whom he has spent more than three decades, friends and neighbors he often hangs out with, and so much more.  Yet on the inside, Artie struggles with a profound sense of loneliness – a feeling that is compounded by the anxiety he feels about the chaotic state of the world (the story takes place around the time of the 2024 election) – all of which combine to push him into what seems to him like a perpetual state of despair and gloominess.  Outwardly though, Artie is his usual self – humorous, kind, intelligent, and always making a difference to those around him (especially his students) in one way or another. When Artie discovers a secret that has been kept from him for many years, he is forced to re-examine his life, his relationships, and the people closest to him, leading him to question how it is possible to not actually know someone despite being so close to them for so long.

As is her style, Strout writes movingly yet realistically about the human condition, with its many trials and tribulations, mundanities and cruelties, and both its beauty and ugliness which, more often than not, can co-exist in surprising ways.  On an emotional level, I understood Artie in ways I didn’t expect – specifically, his ponderings about relationships and our inability to know each other, even with our closest, most intimate family members.  I’ve honestly felt this way with my own family on numerous occasions and as I reflect upon my own relationships with them, I realize how applicable Artie’s sentiment truly is.  I also can’t help but marvel at how very aptly the title of the book ties into the story – which, at its core, really is about all the things we never say, whether it’s because we “can’t” or “won’t” say them.

One thing I do have to mention (which I kind of alluded to already earlier in my review) is that our current political situation plays quite a huge role in the story.  Now, I’m not normally keen on books that incorporate politics into the story, especially contemporary politics, and usually this is a dealbreaker for me – but this book ended up being an exception.  The reason is not because it was written by one of my favorite authors, but rather, the way that the political situation was incorporated made sense within the context of the story and its characters (and it was not heavy-handed, which I appreciate).  Of course, everyone’s tolerance of this will be different, which is fine, but I personally did not have a problem with it.

With her latest novel, Strout presents us with an entirely new cast of characters (and a new setting too, as this story is set in Massachusetts rather than her usual go-to of Maine) and I ended up loving this one so much more than her previous novel Tell Me Everything (which I enjoyed, but not as wholeheartedly, as the main highlight of that book for me was the long-awaited meeting between Olive and Lucy, but that was only a small portion of the story) – perhaps because this time around, I was fully invested in not just the story, but also all the characters (both the main characters and the supporting ones).  Though with all that said, there IS an Olive-related easter egg in the story, though it’s subtle and can be easy to miss (especially for those who may not be familiar with Strout’s previous works), so Olive fans definitely keep an eye out. 

As I was putting my thoughts together for this review, it dawned on me that many of my most favorite contemporary authors (Elizabeth Strout, Ann Patchett, Fredrik Backman, Lisa See, just to name a few) have something in common that is one (though not the only) reason why I love them so much:  they all have the distinct ability to write about the human condition in ways that resonate and really hit home.  Though I’m not sure if there will be another Artie book (there might not be given what happens in the story), I still look forward to encountering these characters again at some point.  Either way though, one thing is for sure and that is, I will continue to read whatever Elizabeth Strout writes, no matter what!

Review: Gather Me: A Memoir in Praise of the Books That Saved Me (by Glory Edim)

My Rating: 4 stars

I enjoyed this memoir from the founder of the Well-Read Black Girl book club, Glory Edim, where she discusses the books and authors that saved her during some of the most difficult moments of her life. From Nikki Giovanni to Maya Angelou, Audre Lorde to Toni Morrison, and many many more, Edim recounts how the words of these brilliant writers had such a huge impact on her and eventually inspired her to start her hugely popular book club so she could continue to uplift stories by Black writers.

Even though I come from a completely different cultural background, I found that I was still able to relate to quite a few of the struggles that Edim talks about in her memoir.  For example, as the daughter of traditional Nigerian parents who immigrated to the United States, Edim had to constantly navigate the culture clash between her American upbringing and her Nigerian heritage, with having to reconcile the two often leading to an identity crisis.  This is an experience that resonates deeply with me as someone who also comes from a very traditional culture (Chinese) that oftentimes conflicts with the culture that I was raised in (American). One scene from Edim’s memoir especially stuck with me -- she talks about how she was attending her father’s funeral in Nigeria, alongside her mother and her brother Maurice and ended up causing an uproar when she insisted on saying a few words, as the cultural mandate was for women to be seen but not heard:

“I had written something about my father that I wanted to read, but I was firmly told that it would not be possible: A daughter does not speak at her father’s funeral. A woman does not speak in church. I was told not to worry; Maurice could speak for us both.”  

Edim also recounts other instances during her trip to Nigeria where she would be standing next to her brother, but people would refuse to speak to her or even acknowledge her existence, choosing instead to talk to the male in the family. Coming from a culture that places higher value on sons over daughters, I know first-hand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such snubs (both intentional and unintentional), so I applaud Edim for standing up for herself.

This was definitely a worthwhile read, one that was made even more special with its message about the power of books to not just entertain, but also inspire, heal, and serve as a refuge during moments when it is most needed.  This one is especially good on audio, where Edim’s lively narration adds an emotional element that without a doubt enhances the reading experience.  And yes, the book recs are a wonderful bonus!

Review: The Young Will Remember (by Eve J. Chung)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Ever since I finished reading Taiwanese American author Eve J. Chung’s stunning and immersive debut novel Daughters of Shandong back in 2023, I have been eagerly anticipating her next book, so I of course was ecstatic to find out that her sophomore novel, The Young Will Remember, would be published this year.  Whereas Chung’s debut drew on her own family history – specifically, the story of her maternal grandmother and her experiences during the Chinese civil war -- this second novel is inspired by her half-Korean husband’s family history and shed lights on another lesser-known piece of 20^th century history:  the Korean War, which was also known as the “Forgotten War.” At the same time, Chung also incorporates her own experiences as a women’s human rights lawyer as well as her work with victims of sexual violence to bring some much-needed attention to the crime of military sexual slavery and the history of “comfort women” during World War II and the wars that followed it. 

Chung weaves these threads together through the story of Eleanor (Ellie) Chang, a Chinese American journalist who becomes trapped behind enemy lines when the plane she is riding in goes down in the mountains of North Korea at the height of the Korean War.  Upon witnessing her comrades being executed in cold blood, Ellie believes she is about to meet the same fate – that is, until a woman she later comes to know as “Emma” claims Ellie as her long-lost daughter Song Yun-Hee, whom Emma had been searching for ever since she was kidnapped by Japanese occupation forces during the previous war.  Even though Ellie is obviously not her daughter, Emma takes her into the home where she lives with her long-time friends, the Pak family – Pastor Pak, his wife Imo, and their son Jae-Min – and treats her as part of the family.  Gradually, Ellie forges a close connection with Emma and Imo – a relationship that only grows stronger as the war intensifies and they are eventually forced to escape to safety in the south. Throughout their harrowing escape, even as they bear witness to the chaos and destruction of bombs raining down on them almost daily, Emma never stops searching for her daughter and at some point, Ellie also takes up the search for Yun-Hee as her own personal mission.  While the search for Yun-Hee is a thread woven throughout the narrative, the heart and soul of the story centers around the bond that Ellie and Emma form as they endure the difficulties of life amidst the upheaval of war.

Once again, Chung delivers a moving story about ordinary women who, bound together by the will to survive the extraordinary hardship and devastating heartbreak that they face, fight against all odds to rise resiliently above the forces that threaten them.  In situating her characters within the historical context of the impact that World War II had on Korea (which she discusses in her Author’s Note), Chung succeeds in doing what well-researched and well-written historical fiction does best: shed much-needed light on little known aspects of history that can also serve as relevant teaching moments when circumstances require it.  In this light, and given its themes, the title of the novel – The Young Will Remember – is indeed apt.

While I still prefer Chung’s debut novel Daughters of Shandong (which was a 5-star read for me), this sophomore effort is a worthwhile read and definitely highly recommended – though with the caveat that this won’t be an easy read by any means, given its depiction of war and its atrocities. Even so, it is still time well-spent.

Received ARC from Berkley via NetGalley.

Review: This is the Story of a Happy Marriage (by Ann Patchett)

My Rating: 5 stars

Ann Patchett is one of my favorite authors, so it probably doesn’t come as a surprise that I will pretty much read anything she writes.  After finishing Tom Lake back in 2023, I’ve been slowly working my way through Patchett’s backlist and recently finished her 2013 essay collection, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I listened to on audio – a wonderful experience in and of itself, since she narrates the audiobook herself. 

Despite what the title says, this collection of essays actually covers a variety of topics – yes, her marriage to Karl is talked about at length, but there are also essays about everything from her relationship with her grandmother, to her friendship with the late Lucy Grealy and the reception of the book she wrote about her (Truth and Beauty), to her closeness with one of the nuns who had taught her in school.  There are also essays about her dog, about how she came to co-own the bookshop Parnassus in Nashville, about her experience “training” in the police academy so she could write about it (her father is a retired LAPD officer), as well as the introduction she wrote as the editor of the 2006 volume of The Best American Short Stories (among many other essays).  Though I loved all of the essays in this collection, if I had to pick a favorite, it would definitely be “The Getaway Car,” which is Patchett’s manifesto about writing – the tips that she gives in this brilliant essay are absolutely invaluable, which also makes this a must-read for all writers, whether aspiring or seasoned.

One thing to note -- this is a compilation of essays that Patchett wrote for various publications over the years, but they are not in chronological order, so technically you can skip around if you want, especially if you already read a particular essay when it was first published (though for me, I still read the collection straight through from beginning to end, regardless of whether I had read an essay previously or not).  With that said, I would actually advocate for reading all of the essays in this collection due to the multifaceted nature of the essays, which, combined as a whole, provides a fascinating glimpse into Patchett’s world and especially helps those of us who are fans of her work better understand who she is not just as a writer, but also as a person.

This is a collection I absolutely recommend, whether you’re an occasional reader of Patchett’s work or a superfan like me – and of course, if you decide to pick this up, the audiobook is definitely the way to go, as there is something about listening to Patchett narrate her own essays that elevates the reading experience.