Review: Taipei Story (by R.F. Kuang)

My Rating: 4 stars 

I’m recovering from an ear infection this past week that affected my ability to concentrate, so I haven’t been able to get as much reading done as I had hoped.  I’ve been able to plow through, but it will probably be slow-going for a couple more weeks, which unfortunately doesn’t bode well for my ginormous fall reading list (especially given the fact that I’m also a bit behind on my summer reading too and have been trying to catch up).  That said, I am determined to get through all the 2026 books I’ve been planning to read, since I want a clean slate as much as possible going into 2027 given the number of anticipated releases I already have lined up (I’m sure fellow bookworms can relate).

Anyway, working my way (slowly) through my fall TBR, I decided to start with one of this season’s most anticipated releases, R.F. Kuang’s Taipei Story.  Kuang’s newest work is a bit of a departure for her genre-wise, as she goes the straight up literary fiction route this time around (as opposed to her previous works which leaned more toward fantasy, dark academia, and literary satire), and while I did enjoy this one more than the other works of hers that I’ve read (Yellowface and Katabasis, specifically), it didn’t blow me away in the way that I was expecting it to.  This is an important point to make in this case because for me personally, out of all of Kuang’s works, Taipei Story is the one most in my wheelhouse – from a genre perspective, literary fiction is one of my favorite genres to read, and from a subject matter perspective, my Chinese background means that I am intimately familiar with the language and culture elements that form the crux of the story.  Most of all though, I also share a background with the story’s protagonist Lily Chen, being from an immigrant family and part of the Chinese diaspora, who grew up speaking mostly English in everyday life and Chinese only with my family while learning the mechanics of the language (Mandarin, that is) mostly through school.  To this point, I could absolutely relate to Lily’s struggles with learning Chinese, as I had similar experiences during my own undergraduate education pursuing a degree in Asian Studies.  Indeed, the scenes involving Lily’s one-on-one class with Teacher Sun reminded me of the independent study class I took during that time, which was taught by one of the university’s esteemed Chinese literature professors.  I remember the feelings of anxiety when, for my final project in the class, I had to write a critical analysis essay on Su Tong’s classic novel Raise the Red Lantern entirely in Chinese – a feat made even more difficult given the fact that computer-based foreign language typing applications were not common back then, so I actually had to write the entire essay out by hand (though I guess the silver lining is that I was able to get plenty of practice writing Chinese characters).  Having to endure my own “sea of red” for many of the assignments in that class, I could definitely understand Lily’s feelings of frustration and inadequacy in those instances.

When I read a book where there are so many aspects that I’m familiar with (i.e. the language, culture, history, etc.), it usually enhances the reading experience for me.  In this instance, Kuang packed her novel not just with tons of language-related and historical elements that I was already familiar with, she also incorporated a lot of film, literature, food, and pop culture references that I also recognized.  Yet, oddly enough, while reading this book, I didn’t feel particularly connected to either the story or the characters. Now that I think about it, this seems to be a common problem I have with Kuang’s books – regardless of how much certain elements of the story seem to resonate with me (familiarity with the subject matter and/or cultural elements, a shared background with the main character, etc.), I always feel a bit of an emotional distance with her works that makes it difficult to connect or engage at a level that would make the read 5 stars for me.  I am not able to pinpoint exactly what the issue is; as I mention in my previous reviews of Kuang’s works, she is obviously a skillful, intelligent writer – but perhaps that is precisely the problem:  I think sometimes Kuang’s highly impressive academic pedigree (undergraduate studies at Georgetown, master’s degree from Cambridge, another master’s degree from Oxford, currently working on a PhD at Yale) ends up getting in the way of her stories, albeit unintentionally.  With Taipei Story, there were large swaths of the book that, to me at least, seemed to contain “information dumps” which felt irrelevant to the story – in turn, these “information dumps” were often relayed in a matter-of-fact manner that made me feel like I was reading an excerpt from an academic essay or a textbook.  Of course, there is nothing wrong with showing off what you know (it IS one of the golden rules of writing, after all, to “write what you know”), especially if you’ve put in the effort to do the copious amounts of research (which Kuang obviously does with every book) to back up that knowledge, but I think the less-than-seamless way that knowledge (research) is incorporated into the story can, in some instances, have an unintended negative effect on the story (at least for this reader it did).

Overall, I would have to say that this was definitely an enjoyable read that I liked well enough (I mean, I did give it 4 stars when both Yellowface and Katabasis got 3.5 stars and 3 stars, respectively), but I didn’t “love” it like I initially thought I would.  That said, I definitely continue to be interested in reading Kuang’s works – though perhaps knowing that her books usually take a little more time for me to complete, I should plan better in the future and wait to tackle them during a time when I’m under less pressure to get through a ridiculously long TBR list

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Katabasis (by R.F. Kuang)

My Rating: 3 stars

My first thought after finishing this book is that I am most definitely NOT the right audience for it, as majority of the story went way over my head. To say that I struggled with this book is an understatement -- if I had to assign a number, I would probably say that I only understood maybe 60% of the story (and that’s being generous).  My problem with this book wasn’t in the writing, as it’s a known fact that R.F. Kuang can absolutely write (and beautifully at that) – rather, I felt that Kuang tried to cram too much into this book and made it way denser than it really needed to be.  What I mean by this is that Kuang incorporates an insane amount of philosophical, mathematical, and scientific concepts (some explained, some not) and name drops numerous philosophers and scholars along with the theories they specialized in (to the point that she had to “explain” some of the scholarship in an Author’s Note at the end of the book) – which had the effect of convoluting and overwhelming the story in a way that I felt was unnecessary.  In fact, the academic overload felt so intense at times that I found myself having to dig deep in order to unbury the story that Kuang was trying to tell (and even then, I still felt like I didn’t “get” majority of what she was trying to say, lol) – the result being that this was a tremendously tedious and exhausting read that I’m not really sure was worth the effort.  At some point probably a third of the way through, I started skimming not paragraphs, but pages, as I felt like I was reading the same sentences 3-4 times but still not understanding a single word, and I was starting to get anxious about wasting my time.

As I was reading, one thing that became quite obvious to me is that this book was written by someone with a deep, intimate knowledge of academia – which makes sense given that Kuang, with her Masters and Doctorate degrees from Cambridge, Oxford, and Yale, is practically a scholar in her own right.  Now don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against pursuing higher education (I actually have a Master’s degree myself so I’m kind of partial to that world too), but I think that sometimes a background like that can have an unintended impact on the work you produce that is meant for mass consumption.  Specifically, the way that the book was written, it seemed to take for granted the fact that most “ordinary” readers would not be well-versed in philosophical theories, mathematical formulas, scientific hypotheses, etc. that someone from the academic world would probably be more familiar with (though with that said, even someone like me with a higher level academic degree was still completely lost in this instance).  In hindsight, if I had known how philosophically and theoretically dense this book would be (especially towards the subjects of math and science), I probably would not have chosen to pick this one up (at least not during this particular time when I’m already overwhelmed and exhausted from work and family obligations).

Given everything I said above, those reading this review might be wondering why I didn’t rate this book lower (as I would have in similar circumstances).  Part of the reason is because of the writing, as I mentioned earlier – Kuang is a skillful writer and her strength in worldbuilding (from her roots as a fantasy writer no doubt) definitely shines here.  The detail with which she describes Alice and Peter’s journey through Hell is truly astounding -- I can’t help but admire her ability to take such an obscure premise and build out such an intricate story from it.  Also, I truly did enjoy the last 50 or so pages, including the way the ending played out (which I felt like Kuang nailed this time, especially when compared to her previous novel Yellowface).

Overall, I would say that this was an “okay” read – not entirely a waste of time but also not the best use of my time either.  I’m just glad I finally got through it and can now move on to other books that will hopefully work out better for me.

Received ARC from Harper Voyager via NetGalley.

Review: Yellowface (by R.F. Kuang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars



I'm honestly not sure how to feel about this one.  Part of me wants to approach this from the satire angle, which helps me to not take this story so seriously and thereby enables me to tamp down my frustration and anger at the plethora of "problematic" actions and behaviors of all the characters in the story. The other part wants to approach this from the angle of a necessary commentary on the dark and ruthless underbelly of the publishing industry, the toxicity of social media, the rise of online book communities, and of course, the most most front and center hot button topic in recent years — racism and social justice. Regardless of which angle though, one thing I do need to make clear is that I'm approaching this book from the position of not having read any of R.F. Kuang's previous works and also not having much knowledge of her background or history as an author.  I feel this is an important distinction to make because, just glancing through the mixed bag of reviews and ratings on Goodreads, it's pretty obvious that this book is going to provoke strong reactions in readers that will vary greatly  depending on each person's background, experiences, and also familiarity with the author and/or her works. (As a side note, it seems that most of the negative reviews of this book on Goodreads seem to focus on the "meta" aspect of the story as it pertains to Kuang's own background and interactions related to her previous works — while these observations may be completely valid, this was an angle that did not concern me given my lack of familiarity with the author, so it won't be a focus of this review).

Kuang actually covers a lot of ground with this book in terms of topics — in addition to the commentary on hot button issues mentioned earlier, the story also explores cultural appropriation, colonialism, systemic racism, cyber bullying, the current political environment, censorship, toxic friendships, recent debates about who should be allowed to tell which stories, etc. While so many of these topics are important and should be brought up for discussion, I have to admit that it felt like too much all at once, to the point that, at times, I felt I was being bombarded with one issue after another after another, making it difficult to process my thoughts (which, to me, was necessary given how "heavy" so many of the topics were).  I honestly think that the story would've been a less overwhelming experience (and hence a more powerful and effective story) if it had focused less on trying to cover all bases and instead, focused on only a few topics to explore more in depth.   

Aside from the subject matter, the other thing that made this book a difficult read, at least for me, was the fact that all of the characters in the story were hugely unlikable, with the main protagonist June Hayward (aka Juniper Song) being particularly loathsome and pathetic (it also didn't help that the entire story was narrated from June's first person point of view, so we were stuck listening to her endless excuses and whining the whole time).  It's honestly hard to enjoy a story when you hate the main character and have no one else to root for because all the supporting characters were also annoying.

As I mentioned earlier, this is a provocative story with so many topics that could actually be debated ad nauseam and probably we would never be able to come to an agreement on anything.  One of the central issues that the story dives into — and the one most resonant for me — is the idea of who gets to tell what story.  In theory, I don't have a problem with an author "going outside their lane" so to speak — in this instance, a white author writing an Asian story — as long as it's done correctly, which in my book means doing so respectfully and as authentically as possible (though yes, there is also the argument about how this takes the opportunity away from a marginalized author to tell the same story, which I also agree with, but that's a whole separate debate altogether and not really the focus of this story).  But I think what happens in Yellowface actually goes beyond this (who should get to tell the story) — technically, it's not about whether June, who is white, should be allowed to tell a story about Chinese history and culture, as the fact of the matter is that the original story was written by her friend Athena Liu (who is Chinese).  The real issue here is that, when Athena dies unexpectedly, June "takes" the manuscript and publishes it as her own.  Sure, June makes a lot of edits to the manuscript and even "rewrites" large chunks of it, since Athena's version was unfinished (this is important because June clings to this throughout the story as her main "justification" for why the story belongs to her and hence she did nothing wrong).  Even so, June had the choice to go down the proper path with this — that is, to credit Athena for coming up with the story and writing majority of it, and to attach herself as collaborator in finishing and editing it (there is a scene where June actually considers doing this).  But she deliberately chooses not to and that, friends, is the crux of the problem.  To me, once June made that choice, nothing else mattered — I no longer cared what excuses or justifications she gave (believe me, she gave PLENTY), or what "factually" happened or didn't happen (i.e.: "I didn't mean to take it, I was just curious" or "I never 'pretended' to be Chinese so it's not cultural appropriation" or "Athena is a bad person because she stole from me first", etc). At that point, it was hard not to view June in a negative light for the rest of the story.  

Of course, it probably also doesn't help June's case that I'm Chinese myself and am intimately familiar with the language and culture, which means that I understood most of the nuances in Athena's manuscript, so June's actions come across as even more egregious in my view.  There was one passage in particular that got me seething mad (yes, THAT passage in which June's complete ignorance of Chinese culture is put on full display) — thinking about it now though, it strikes me that perhaps this may have been intentional on the author's part, as there is no way that anyone with even a passing knowledge of Chinese language and culture wouldn't be triggered by the "edits" that June makes to the script.  Speaking of which, the other thing that really bothered me was June's attitude — specifically the utter delight and glee with which she "changed" Athena's creation. The entire section that details June's "editing sessions" was honestly very painful to read — not just from the perspective of someone who knows the culture, but also from the perspective of a writer who has spent countless hours on a project, only to see someone else come in and happily "butcher" it.  And then, to add further insult to injury, there's this passage, where June's editor Daniella tells her at the end of the sessions: "You are so wonderfully easy to work with. Most authors are pickier about killing their darlings" to which June's immediate reaction is "This makes me beam. I want my editor to like me. I want her to think I'm easy to work with, that I'm not a stubborn diva, that I'm capable of making any changes she asks for. It'll make her more likely to sign me on for future projects."  Needless to say, I wanted to punch June's lights out by that point (and this was only at the 15% mark in the story, unfortunately). 

Overall, in terms of literary merit, I feel that this book is definitely worth reading (and to some extent, it's actually a necessary read from the social commentary aspect), but like I said earlier, what the reading experience is going to be like will depend on how close you are to the subject matter.  Given my background, reading this book was obviously not a pleasant experience for me (hence why I rated this the way I did), but that does not mean others will feel the same way.  With that said, I do think that, with this book in particular, given so many triggering elements to it, the best course of action might be to check out as many reviews as possible (both positive and negative) before making the decision whether to pick it up.  I had heard that this book is actually a departure from R.F. Kuang's usual style and while I can't comment on that, I will say that the unpleasant experience with this one hasn't discouraged me from wanting to read her previous works.  I have both Babel and The Poppy Wars trilogy on my shelves and I do intend to read both at some point down the line.

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.