Review: My Friends (by Fredrik Backman)

My Rating: 5 stars

This year has been a chaotic one for me: in addition to being super busy at work, I’ve also had some family issues I had to take care of, plus my own health issues I had to attend to – on top of all that, I’m on the final stretch of my Master’s degree journey, taking several classes all at once so I can finish in time to graduate in September.  With so much going on, my “leisure” reading life has unfortunately taken a hit, resulting in me falling behind on my reading goals. While I have been able to squeeze in a few books here and there, I haven’t been able to read as much as I would like.  With that said however, I hope to be back in full force come September, as I will be done with school and everything else should be sorted out by then.

Now even though I’ve been so busy, that has not stopped me from making time to read the latest novel from one of my all-time favorite authors, Fredrik Backman.  Yes, Backman has another book out (released this month, in fact) called My Friends and it is SPECTACTULAR!  I honestly don’t have words to express how much I love this book (though I guess the fact that I got 4 different versions of this book – including a signed version!!! -- is proof enough?)

As is the case with all of Backman’s novels, this one is absolutely an emotional roller coaster where I found myself laughing hysterically one minute and bawling like a baby the next.  In his signature style, Backman takes us on a poignant, heartfelt journey of 4 teenaged friends who form an unbreakable bond so deep and powerful that it ends up changing the life of a complete stranger 25 years later.  In all of Backman’s novels, the emotional core of the story lies in the characters, all of whom are tremendously flawed, with lives that are messy and oftentimes dysfunctional, yet you can’t help falling in love with them and rooting for them regardless of what happens.  I don’t know how he does it, but with all his characters, Backman is always able to capture the essence of what it means to be human, and portray human relationships in a way that resonates deeply and emotionally.  To me, his characters are always so real and yes, always, always unforgettable!

Those who are familiar with Backman’s style already know that this will be a story that is at once heartwarming yet also heart-wrenching.  In this story, there is sadness and pain, violence and heartbreak, loss and suffering, yet there is also hope and healing, resilience and redemption, humor and warmth, and yes, loads of laughter and love.

If you believe in finding hope even in the face of loss and suffering, if you believe in finding humor in the most unexpected of places, if you believe in the transformative power of art to connect people across generations, but most of all, if you believe in the ability of deep and unwavering friendship to heal wounds and transcend the worst impulses of human behavior, then you need to pick up this book.  Read this one with an open heart, but also have a box of Kleenex by your side because you will definitely need it!

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

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

 

My Rating: 5 stars

Browsing through my book news emails a couple weeks ago, I kept coming across reviews for Ta-Nehisi Coates’s newest book The Message (which I have not yet read but definitely want to) and it reminded me that I’ve had his award-winning masterpiece Between the World and Me on my TBR forever, but never got around to reading it.  Well, recently, I had the chance to pick this one up and I have to say, I was absolutely blown away.  In this book-length autobiographical essay, which is written in the format of a letter to his teenage son Samori, Coates shares his struggles growing up as a black man in America.  In meticulous, beautiful prose, Coates presents the harsh realities of America’s deeply ingrained attitudes toward race, placing it within the context of our country’s fraught history and the implications it has had (and continues to have) on society.  Coates does not mince words – he is searingly honest about the “American plunder” and how the nation was built on the backs of colored bodies.  At the same time, this essay can also be read as a father’s passionate (and desperate) plea for his son’s continued survival navigating a system where the odds are perpetually stacked against him.

In her endorsement of Between the World and Me back when it came out in 2015, the late, great Toni Morrison not only called the book “required reading,” she also praised Coates as essentially the heir-apparent to James Baldwin’s legacy: “I’ve been wondering who might fill the intellectual void that plagued me after James Baldwin died. Clearly it is Ta-Nehisi Coates.”  Indeed, a close reading of Coates’s book shows the numerous ways in which he pays respectful homage to Baldwin, from the epistolary format in which he frames his personal narrative (which is a nod to Baldwin’s famous letter to his nephew in his seminal essay collection The Fire Next Time) to the writing style, phrasing of words, narrative voice, and most significantly, emotional resonance.

This is a profound and powerful book – a modern classic that is absolutely a “must-read” for all Americans.  At once a gut-punch and a wake-up call, this book is not an easy read by any means, but it is a necessary read as well as a timely one (especially given the events of the last few days). Highly, highly recommended!

 

Review: And the Mountains Echoed (by Khaled Hosseini)

My Rating: 5 stars

Don’t expect his review to be a long one because I honestly don’t have the words to describe how I felt reading this beautifully written book. From the moment I read the interesting first line – “So, then. You want a story and I will tell you one. But just the one…” – I was preparing myself for an absorbing story, but I didn’t anticipate how truly exquisite the experience would be. Khaled Hosseini is indeed a masterful storyteller, but this novel also proves that he is a masterful writer as well.  Unlike his previous 2 novels, Hosseini employs a unique structure this time around in the form of a series of interlinked stories across nine chapters, each narrated from the perspective of a different character.  The format is nonlinear, with the narrative jumping back and forth between various settings (from Afghanistan to Paris to California to the Greek island of Tinos) and timelines (1940s through 2010).  Each chapter comes across vignette-like, where we get a glimpse into the life of each individual character, some of whom narrate their own stories in first person, while others are told in third person, with one chapter that is completely epistolary.  On the surface, it may not be readily apparent how each character’s story correlates with the other, but once I got to the end of the book, I couldn’t help but marvel at Hosseini’s genius in structuring the narrative this way.  Interconnectedness is a huge theme in the novel and Hosseini demonstrates this in multiple ways – through the plot and story, through the characters, and especially through the narrative’s structure.

 

Emotionally, this was one of those books that was simultaneously heartbreaking and uplifting -- to the point that I lost count of how many times the story and its characters broke my heart and then put it back together again. There were many moving and poignant moments that triggered a jumble of different emotions – sadness, anger, confusion, awe, wonder, surprise, relief, dread, hope, etc. (just to name a few).  Hosseini presents humanity and all its emotional complexities in such a realistic (yet not overwhelming) way that you get the sense he truly understands human nature -- the ‘good, bad, and ugly’ that resides in all of us.  The story is filled with flawed characters who find themselves in various morally and ethically ambiguous dilemmas – much life we would in real life – yet through it all, and despite the poor decisions that some of them make, I felt like I understood where they were coming from and so I couldn’t help wanting to root for all of them (with the exception of one or two characters).  This is illustrated best through the words of one of the story’s most prominent characters, Dr. Markos, a Greek plastic surgeon who dedicates many years of his life providing care to those in Afghanistan who sustained physical injuries and deformities from the violence and fighting: “If I've learned anything in Kabul, it is that human behaviour is messy and unpredictable and unconcerned with convenient symmetries.”

 

I’ve had Khaled Hosseini on my list of “must-read” authors for years (on the advice of multiple trusted reader friends who are huge fans of his works) and actually have all 3 of his novels sitting on my shelf, but regretfully, I hadn’t been able to get to his works until now. I started with And the Mountains Echoed first because that is the novel I’m studying in my Literature class, but I hope to also read his two previous (and even more famous) novels at some point as well.

 

Review: The Lost Story (by Meg Shaffer)

My Rating: 5 stars

 

I had read Meg Shaffer’s debut The Wishing Game last year and absolutely adored it.  That story was an imaginative, bookish take on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that was both charming and endearing.  This time around, with The Lost Story, Shaffer takes her inspiration from another children’s classic, The Chronicles of Narnia, while also paying tribute to fairy tales and the world of make-believe in the process. 

 

In all honesty, I don’t have words to describe how I felt reading this beautifully written story – one that drew me in from the very first page and I never wanted to end.  This was such a fun, delightful, charming story – truly a fairytale in every way, from its structure (with its storyteller who begins the story with “once upon a time” and ends it with “happily ever after”) to its magical, make-believe world consisting of castles and unicorns, heroes and heroines, knights in shining armor, villains that disappear and reappear in puffs of smoke, animals with the intelligence of humans, huge thousand feet trees with leaves in every color of the rainbow, etc. – yet on the other hand, this was also a very “adult” story that dealt with some very real and difficult issues (such as abuse, discrimination, bullying, for example).  Just like in a fairy tale, there was a deeply profound and meaningful moral lesson buried underneath the fantastical elements, but everything blended together so seamlessly that, at times, it was easy to get lost in the tale itself. There was so much to love with this one:  the characters were wonderfully-rendered and I actually loved all of them (Rafe, Jeremy, Emilie, Skya, as well as all the supporting characters) from the moment I met them within the first few pages, but I especially loved the way the characters interacted with each other; the descriptions of both the real and fantasy worlds were breathtaking and so well done that I definitely felt like I was completely immersed in a different time and place; the humor was also wonderfully done and there were so many scenes that had me laughing so hard, I started getting stomach cramps; most important of all however, was the underlying “lost and found” storyline (especially the one involving Rafe and Jeremy) that was both powerful and moving. 

 

This was no doubt an emotional read for me – a roller coaster ride that had me laughing one minute and crying the next.  At the same time, I also couldn’t help feeling a bit nostalgic and wistful due to all the memories that this brought back from my childhood – as an avid reader, I of course read everything I could get my hands on, but I especially loved fairy tales.  One of my favorite books growing up was a special hardbound edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales that I had read so much that it eventually fell apart to the point that I was forced to get rid of it (which still pains me when I think about it even now).  The fact that I essentially stopped reading fairy tales after that incident (plus my reading tastes after I became an adult were markedly different from what I used to read as a child), made the nostalgia feel even more poignant.  Getting the chance to revisit this aspect of my childhood through Shaffer’s story was definitely a welcome escape from all the craziness that has been a part of my life in recent months.

I don’t want to say much more about this book because revealing too many details would spoil the magic.  If you loved Shaffer’s debut The Wishing Game as much as I did, definitely pick up this sophomore novel of hers – it’s written in the same vein, yet also vastly different in many aspects.  Even though I ended up loving this one just a tad bit more, both are amazing reads that I highly, highly recommend!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The God of the Woods (by Liz Moore)

 My Rating: 5 stars

With summer in full swing, I’ve been trying to catch up on all the reading I had planned to do, which, admittedly, has not been easy given the many other obligations that I’ve been trying to juggle as well.  Having said that, I’m working through my stack slowly but surely, prioritizing the “must-reads” by favorite authors that I’ve been looking forward to for months.  One of those favorite authors is Liz Moore, whose 2 previous works Long Bright River (2020) and The Unseen World (2016) I had read and loved.  Moore’s newest novel, The God of the Woods, is her most ambitious novel to date and absolutely a brilliantly written masterpiece!

 

This intricately crafted, multi-layered story weaves together several complex threads, told from the perspectives of multiple complicated (and often morally ambiguous) characters, to create a wonderfully nuanced narrative that I honestly could not put down (despite clocking in at nearly 500 pages, I flew through this one in two sittings).  The story begins with a mystery – the disappearance of teenager Barbara Van Laar from a family run summer camp in the Adirondack Mountains (in New York) – but when it is revealed that another Van Laar child had also disappeared from the same family compound 14 years ago (Barbara’s older brother Bear), the possible connection between the two cases leads to a riveting exploration of family dynamics and much, much more.  This is truly a wide-reaching novel that covers many themes and social issues, including family and marriage struggles, parent/child relationships, class disparities and the implications of these differences on the rich vs the poor, gender discrimination, land conservation vs exploitation of nature, coming of age, identity and belonging, abuse and neglect vs caretaking and found family, inequalities within the criminal justice system, etc.  At the same time, there are also historical elements that Moore incorporated into the narrative that aren’t readily apparent without reading the Author’s Note (which I highly recommend). 

 

There is so much to unpack with this story, yet at the same time, it’s not the overly complex type of story where you have to read it several times to understand what it’s trying to say. In addition to the mystery / suspense element being superbly done (at multiple points when I thought I had figured out the ending, turns out I was completely wrong), the atmospheric nature of the writing (to the point that I felt transported back to a different time and place) gave this a historical fiction feel, while the extensive coverage of various contemporary social issues also made the story and characters highly relatable. 

 

One of the things I love about Moore (in addition to her knack for creating memorable characters that I can’t help stop thinking about) is her ability to take a subject that I’m usually not too keen on reading about (i.e. drug addiction/opioid crisis, computer science and technology, environmentalism) and craft such an emotionally compelling story around it that it piques my interest and I find myself wanting to read/learn more about the subject.

 

This brilliant, genre-defying novel is the perfect summer read and one that I highly, highly recommend.  If this is your first-time reading Moore’s novels, this is a great place to start, but definitely go back and read her previous novels as well, if you can (I myself still have to read her first 2 novels, which are on my list to get to at some point).  I can’t wait for what Moore decides to write next – hopefully we’ll hear something soon!

 

Received ARC from Riverhead Books via NetGalley.

Review: Never Let Me Go (by Kazuo Ishiguro)

My Rating:  5 stars

I loved Kazuo Ishiguro's Booker Prize-winning The Remains of the Day (which I only read a couple years ago even though it was written back in 1989) and since then, I've been wanting to read the rest of his books, it's just I hadn't gotten a chance to yet given my endless TBR stack.  So of course, I was delighted when both my book club and one of my classes chose Ishiguro's Never Let Me Goas our next book to read / study, as it gave me an excuse to finally get to another one of his books.  

Going into this one, I actually already knew most of the details of the plot, including the "reveal" about the characters and their school, as this book was talked about so much back when it came out in 2005 (plus there was a much-hyped movie adaptation that was made, which I haven't watched, but heard so much about) that it's kind of hard not to have already encountered the main spoiler, especially reading this book now, nearly 2 decades after it was written.  With that said however, the "spoiler" knowledge in this case did not ruin the book for me — rather it allowed me to focus instead on Ishiguro's beautiful, breathtaking, and elegant writing style as well as admire the masterful way in which he crafted such a poignant and powerful story that was both richly complex and thought-provoking yet also haunting and absorbing.

Given that I'll be spending quite a bit of time discussing and reflecting on this book with others over the next few weeks, I don't plan on saying too much in this review.  One of the things I do want to mention though is the genre-defying aspect of this book, which, in a sense, is one of its unique defining features. Most readers would probably categorize this one under science fiction (specifically of the speculative and dystopian variety), which is certainly appropriate, but only classifying it as such would be a great disservice, as there are also elements of gothic romance, mystery and suspense, as well as contemporary, literary, and historical fiction all interwoven seamlessly (and subtly) into the story.  As I was reading, I was honestly blown away by how perfectly Ishiguro was able to balance all these elements to create an emotionally nuanced story that is both compelling and gripping, while at the same time presenting a quietly contemplative, thoughtful, and reflective commentary on society that's also incredibly timely and prescient.  I mention all this because I know there are probably readers like me out there who aren't keen on reading science fiction and therefore might be hesitant to pick this one up.  If that's you, I would say don't worry because it definitely doesn't read like science fiction: part of the brilliance of this book is in its many subtleties — as it pertains to science (and technology) specifically, Ishiguro integrates this theme into the story in a way where the reader feels its presence looming in the background, but it never breaks forth to overwhelm the story.  

Even though I've only read two of Ishiguro's works (so far), I can already see why he is such a beloved and respected writer.  I'm glad he was finally awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2017 — absolutely well-deserved! I read in an interview Ishiguro did that it takes him around 5 years to write each book — since his last book Klara and the Sun (which I also need to get to) came out in 2021, that means we can perhaps expect a new book in 2026 (I hope)?  I definitely need to get going on the rest of his backlist before then! :-)

 

Review: The Book of Fire (by Christy Lefteri)

My Rating: 5 stars

Happy New Year!  I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season and that, like me, you were able to spend some time immersed in a good book! :-)

Kicking off the new year, I've been busy with my studies, but I did get the chance to squeeze in one of the January 2024 ARCs on my list, so I'm happy about that.

I chose to start my reading year with a new release from an author whose works I've loved since reading her debut novel, The Beekeeper of Aleppo, a few years back. In my opinion, Christy Lefteri is an underrated and under appreciated author whose works everyone should be reading.  She writes in a way that is atmospheric and poetic, with beautifully-rendered descriptions of time and place that make us, the readers, feel completely immersed.  

Lefteri sets her third novel in a Greek village where a devastating wildfire has ravaged the once-idyllic forest, destroying nearly everything — living and non-living — in its path. A close and loving family used to live in that forest:  Irini, a talented musician who could play the most beautiful songs with the instruments handed down over generations from her father and grandfather; her husband Tasso, an artist who could paint the forest so realistically that the sights and sounds of nature seemed to come alive just looking at the paintings; and their 10-year-old daughter Chara, a happy and playful girl whose name means "joy." Along with their devoted greyhound Rosalie, the family lived in a picturesque environment surrounded by the beauty of nature.  However, on a fateful day that starts off just like any other day, their paths cross with the fire and within hours, their lives are changed forever.  Their bungalow in the forest is destroyed (along with all of Irini's instruments), Tasso's hands are burned to the point that he can no longer paint, Chara endures second-degree burns that leave horrific scars, and Irini's father-in-law Lazaros goes missing (he's presumed dead).  Many of their friends and neighbors are either dead or missing, while those who survived are physically and emotionally scarred for life.  As if that were not enough, everywhere they turn, they are forced to witness the charred remains of the destruction around them  — the trees burned down to stumps, the barren ground where abundant plants and flowers once grew, and the pervasive, choking smell of burnt things.  Months later, the family (and the village) haven't completely come to terms with all they lost, but are actively trying to rebuild and move on with their lives.  It is during this time that Irini inadvertently encounters the man responsible for destroying their lives — a land speculator she refers to as Mr. Monk, who had started the fire on a small piece of land he didn't own in the hopes of acquiring it (illegally), not expecting it to rage out of control like it ended up doing.  Mr. Monk is mysteriously injured and appears to be on the brink of death — when Irini finds out who he is, she makes a last minute decision out of anger, which follows her for the rest of the story.  The investigation that follows will bring to light some painful truths about the community and its interactions with its surrounding environment.

As she did with her previous two novels, Lefteri once again delivers a hauntingly beautiful, emotional story that is at once heartbreaking and poignant, but also hopeful in its portrayal of humanity in the wake of tragedy.  Lefteri has a gift for writing about real-life (often controversial and difficult) issues relevant to society in a way that is thought-provoking and meaningful, yet not heavy-handed or preachy — in The Beekeeper of Aleppo, it was immigration and refugees fleeing from the situation in Syria; in Songbirds, it was the exploitation of foreign domestic workers in Cyprus; now in The Book of Fire, she explores the relationship of humans with nature and the wide-ranging effects that our actions can have on our environment.  I live in Southern California and remember the deadly 2018 wildfires that Lefteri mentions in her Author's Note (which, by the way, is a must-read in and of itself) as well as the many other fires that have occurred in the region the past few years, so this story definitely resonated with me.  The dilemma that Irini faces in the story is a difficult one and I will admit that if I were in her shoes, I would have probably struggled as well.  I finished this book a few days ago, yet I'm still thinking about this story and its endearingly-drawn characters. Needless to say, I will definitely be on the lookout for what Lefteri comes out with next!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: Daughters of Shandong (by Eve J. Chung)

My Rating:  5 stars

This incredible debut by Taiwanese-American lawyer Eve J. Chung doesn't come out until May 2024, but I was able to get an advance copy and boy am I glad I did.  Inspired by her family's history, Chung weaves the fictional story of Li-Hai, the eldest of four daughters from the Ang family, wealthy landowners in the small rural town of Zhucheng in Shandong, China. The year is 1948 and even though World War II has officially ended, China is caught up in its own civil war between the current ruling party, the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-shek and the Communists led by Mao Zedong.  In a country still steeped in the Confucian ideal of "zhong nan qing nu" ("value men, belittle women"), Hai's mother Chiang-Yue is treated worse than a servant in the Ang household due to her inability to produce a male heir (to say that Yue is "mistreated" is an understatement —  in addition to suffering constant physical and verbal abuse at the hands of her mother-in-law, her husband also neglects her and never speaks up for her).  In the eyes of the Ang elders, Hai and her sisters, being daughters, are considered "disappointments" and "useless mouths to feed" (their grandmother Nai Nai has no qualms about telling them to their faces that they are better off dead  so the family doesn't have to waste money on them anymore) — which is why, when the Communist army invades the town and the family is forced to flee, they decide to leave mother and daughters behind.  Abandoned and left to fend for themselves, Yue and her daughters become destitute and penniless after the Communists seize their home and kick them out.  Worse yet, in the absence of any Ang family males, Hai, as the eldest daughter at 13 years old, is chosen to answer for her father's and grandfather's "crimes" and is subsequently tortured to near death.  With the help of former workers whom Yue had always treated kindly, mother and daughters escape to the city of Qingdao, where they hoped to reunited with the rest of the family. They survive the arduous journey to Qingdao, only to find out that the family actually relocated to Taiwan (where Chiang Kai-shek re-established the Nationalist base after fleeing China).  Abandoned once again, the Ang women figure out a way to overcome the many obstacles they face, including  enduring a thousand mile journey to Hong Kong and eventually finding their family in Taiwan.  

The story is narrated in the first person from Hai's perspective, which was the perfect narrative structure in this case because it made the experience more immersive and personal.  In her Author's Note (which is not to be missed), Chung explains the inspiration for the story, which was originally going to be a biography of sorts about her maternal grandmother, whom she had stayed with in Taiwan as a child.  But after her grandmother died, she realized there were too many gaps in her grandmother's life that she knew nothing about and regrettably had never asked, so she pivoted to turning the family history she was planning to write into a fictional story using the notes and interviews that she and her mother had already gathered.  Basing the character of Hai on her maternal grandmother, Chung was able to fill in the gaps of her own family history, but more than that, for us readers, she delivered a beautifully-written story about a family of women who survive devastating heartbreak and hardship to resiliently rise above the entrenched cultural norms that bind them to inferiority within their society. 

As a Chinese daughter myself, I resonated deeply with Hai and many of the struggles she went through in trying to reconcile her identity with her culture.  While I didn't share all of the experiences she went through, I did grow up under the same Chinese culture, so I was familiar with many of the antiquated traditions as well as the historical context in the story. Even with this familiarity, I have to admit that many of the scenes involving Hai's POS (pardon my French) father and grandmother and their horrible treatment of the mothers and daughters in the family were hard to read. With that said though, this is actually where Chung's story stands out from many of the other historical novels that revolve around Chinese culture and tradition — I appreciated the way that she succinctly and clearly lays out the facts of how women were treated during that time without mincing words.  More than any other novel I've read in recent years (specifically ones written in contemporary times), this one does a great job exploring the internal battle that many of the women who grow up in these restrictive cultures face — despite understanding the injustices they suffer, they've internalized what they've been taught to the extent that it not only becomes a "normal" part of who they are, they also oftentimes end up perpetuating these same injustices (whether intentionally or unintentionally) onto future generations. To this point, there were many thought-provoking quotes throughout the book (which I of course marked up), but the following excerpt stood out to me the most.  In this scene, Hai (as an adult now) gets into an argument with her mother, who finally, after many years, gives birth to a son, Ming, to carry on the Ang family name (though ironically, this doesn't alleviate the poor treatment that the mother continues to endure because the mother-in-law is already used to abusing her); Hai sees her mother giving her baby brother Ming a bottle of milk while she only gives her other daughter Hua (who was born right before Ming) a bottle of rice water — Hai is livid that her mother would continue to perpetuate the "preferential treatment of boys over girls" tradition after everything they suffered the past couple years precisely because they weren't sons:  "…Mom began to weep. "Hai, Ming is the only one who will support us when we are old. The only one who can care for us in the afterlife. I love Hua and all my other daughters, but I have a duty, as a wife, to make sure Ming grows up well. When you have your own son, you will understand." She cried because she thought I was judging her unfairly, without realizing that her words had cut me deep. Mom hadn't said it explicitly, but I heard it loud and clear: All of us girls were worth less than Ming. She loved us less than Ming. Yet Mom was confused by my anger, and oblivious to my pain. To her, the ancient traditions centering the son were our pillar, entwined in our religion, inseparable from our existence on this earth. Telling her I was hurt would be like saying I was offended by the typhoon that tore through Mount Davis. In her mind, these injustices were part of being a woman, and bearing them was simply our fate. Men made the rules in our society, but women often enforced them. Was there something about having a son that transformed us? Was that why Nai Nai was so wretched? Was that going to be me as a mother? I didn't want it to be. After what I had been through, how could I fall into that same pattern?" Arriving at this understanding becomes tremendously important for the characters in the story, which I won't get into here (you will need to read this one to find out more).

Needless to say, this is a book I highly recommend, but with the understanding that it definitely won't be an easy read.  As with most stories about the travesties of war, this one has brutal scenes as it follows the harrowing journey of the Ang women through several generations, but the payoff at the end is well worth the read.  This story (and its characters) is not one that I will forget anytime soon!

Received ARC from Berkley / Penguin Random House via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

Review: A Man of Two Faces (by Viet Thanh Nguyen)

My Rating:  5 stars

As soon as I turned the last page of Pulitzer Prize winning author Viet Thanh Nguyen's new memoir, my first reaction was, well, silence because I was too awe-struck to speak.  I sat there for quite some time, reflecting on what I had just read (to say there was A LOT to reflect upon is an understatement), but also marveling at the brilliance that I had just witnessed.   Believe me when I say that this is no ordinary memoir — the content itself (with Nguyen's eloquent yet unflinchingly honest writing style) is powerful enough on its own, but the way he plays with elements of form throughout the book honestly just blew me away.  The formatting of the book is important here — the sections that mimic poetry, the clever use of white space, the different size fonts, the use of "TM" after certain words, the thoughtful (and careful) placement of words / phrases / sentences on the page to convey specific ideas, the shifting of voice and point of view, the interspersing of family photographs where appropriate, etc. (truly, I could go on and on) — all of this had the combined effect of creating a unique and powerful reading experience unlike any other.  I've read my fair share of memoirs over the years, but I've definitely never read anything like this one.

As I mentioned earlier, Nguyen writes eloquently, using language and prose in a way that captivates, yet doesn't come across as pretentious or highbrow.  In fact, Nguyen writes in such a straightforward, lucid manner that, at times, I couldn't help but feel taken aback by the brutal honesty of his words.  At the same time, I also resonated deeply with much of what he wrote (even though our backgrounds couldn't be more different). Case in point — I had actually received an advance copy of Nguyen's memoir and started off reading the e-arc, but barely a few pages in, I was already highlighting so many things that resonated with me, that I wound up getting a physical copy of the book instead so I could have something tangible in which to make notes (I ended up using an entire sleeve of colored sticky tabs because I found things I wanted to flag on nearly every page).  Something else that struck me with this memoir — Nguyen talks about a lot of very difficult topics in here (as he mentions himself at certain points, this is his family's story, but also a "war story"), yet he also infuses the entire narrative with a self-deprecating sense of humor — the net result being a perfect balance of serious and funny that made the "heavy" topics easier to engage with.  Personally, I found myself laughing and crying in equal measure while reading this book.

To be honest, I don't think any review will be able to do justice to the brilliance of what Nguyen was able to achieve with this memoir. I initially thought about including a few quotes in this review that especially resonated with me, but there were so many good ones that I had trouble picking only a few, so I decided not to include any.  Instead, I recommend anyone reading this review go pick this one up (a physical copy, as that's the best way to appreciate this memoir with such an unconventional structure) and experience it for yourself.  

Lastly, I wanted to put in a plug for Miwa Messer's interview with Viet Thanh Nguyen on her Poured Over podcast.  The conversation they had about this book was absolutely wonderful and inspiring — definitely a great supplement to the reading experience with this one! 

Received ARC from Grove Press via NetGalley.