Review: Rental House (by Weike Wang)

 

My Rating: 4.5 stars

A couple weeks ago, I had made a plan to take advantage of the vacation time I would have during the last two weeks of December to catch up on as many 2024 reads as possible. While I realize now in hindsight that this plan was a bit too ambitious given all the family obligations I had around the holidays, I’m glad I put in the effort because even though I won’t get through as much as I had planned, at least I’m making a decent dent to my TBR pile.
 

One of the books that I have been looking forward to reading ever since I found out about it is Rental House, Weike Wang’s third novel that she wrote during the pandemic. I loved her previous novel, Joan is Okay, which resonated with me deeply and was a 5-star read for me, so of course it’s no surprise that this new book was high on my list of must-reads.  I finally got around to reading the book this week and I’m definitely glad I did.  At only 213 pages, this slim novel is a quick read, but yet, one that also packs a punch.

 

In Rental House, Wang presents a marriage between two people from completely opposite ends of the cultural divide.  Keru was born in China, but immigrated to the United States with her parents as a child and despite having completely assimilated into American culture (including becoming a citizen through naturalization), she is still viewed as “foreign” by many people, including her own in-laws.  Keru’s parents, who are strict and demanding (as most immigrant Chinese parents are), expect perfection at every turn and believe that only through endless striving and struggle can immigrants such as themselves gain success in a country not of one’s origin. Nate is white and from a rural Appalachian, working-class family that distrusts intellect and striving as a means to get ahead and instead believes that those in a position of wealth (including the government) should be expected to help them out.  Despite being from two disparate cultures, Keru and Nate marry after college and instead of having kids, decide to raise a sheepdog whom they name Mantou (which means “steamed bun” in Chinese).  The book is divided into two parts, with part 1 being about a vacation in Cape Cod with Keru and Nate as well as both sets of in-laws (albeit separately – Keru’s parents visit first, then Nate’s parents), while part 2 takes place 5 years later, with Keru and Nate vacationing in the Catskills, this time without either set of in-laws (though their presence is still hugely felt despite not being there physically).  The story essentially chronicles the culture clash that ensues as Keru and Nate navigate a life together while simultaneously having to deal with the differences between their families.

 

As a Chinese American woman, I always feel seen whenever I read Weike Wang’s works – more than when I read other works by Chinese/Chinese American authors – probably because of how realistically she is able to portray the Chinese American experience in a modern-day setting.  I love how Wang captures the nuances of the Chinese American experience so perfectly and precisely every time – though in Rental House, the differences are more out in the open due to the juxtaposition of the two main characters who are from such disparate and opposite backgrounds. Given my own background, I especially resonated with Keru’s struggles: the pressure that her Chinese immigrant parents place on her to achieve success, with this success in turn being used as justification that her parents’ sacrifices were not in vain; the never-ending identity struggle that comes with being caught between two disparate cultures; constantly having to weigh the necessity of assimilation against the risk of losing her own cultural identity; and the nagging feeling that, even when she does everything right (works hard, gains prestige and wealth through a respected, high-paying job), it is somehow never going to be enough.  Most of all though, I resonated deeply with the way Keru behaves in the presence of her parents, especially her mother. Growing up with my background, I’ve found that one of the biggest things that my non-Asian friends have the hardest time understanding is the relationship dynamic between the Chinese mother and her children (sons to a certain extent but especially daughters).  In the face of relentless criticism from our Chinese mothers, the most common question that Chinese daughters such as myself get asked is why do we behave the way we do in front of our mothers and furthermore, why do we allow our mothers to treat us this way in the first place.  What those who ask this question fail to understand is that, for Chinese mothers, criticism (especially toward Chinese daughters) is their love language – it’s something so ingrained and such a natural element of the Chinese parent/child relationship that, when we’re in each other’s presence, we automatically slot into our roles without even realizing it.  Weike Wang is one of the few Chinese American authors I’ve read who is able to convey this dynamic so well on the page and I love her for it!

 

With all that said, my favorite novel of Wang’s is still Joan is Okay, but this newest one isn’t too far behind.  I will pretty much read anything Wang writes at this point, and I’m hoping her next novel won’t take too long to come out.

 

Also, one last thing I want to put out there: as those who are familiar with Weike Wang’s works probably know, her style is not for everyone.  She writes with a wry, ironic wit in a snarky, dead-pan style that is oftentimes misunderstood, perhaps because she is unapologetic about portraying her main protagonists in all their quirky, eccentric, realistically flawed glory, which may not work for all audiences.  Her books also tend to be heavily character-driven and not only lack a coherent plot, but also lean more toward “slice-of-life vignette” territory where parts of the story may feel abrupt or incomplete.  This kind of style may not work for all readers, so it’s important to keep this in mind when deciding whether to pick this one up.

Review: Joan is Okay (by Weike Wang)


My Rating: 5 stars

We're often told that it's hard to write about a book you love and for me, this was absolutely true with this particular book, as there was so much I loved about this one that I'm actually at a loss as to where I should start in my praise of it.   To me, this was one of those rare books where every single aspect of it came together so perfectly – from the thought-provoking story to the wonderfully rendered characters to the sparse yet beautiful writing, to the carefully chosen prose that flowed so smoothly from page to page – to the point that I wanted this book to go on forever.  When I was only a few pages into the story, I already knew that the main protagonist Joan (whose last name is never revealed to us) would be one of those characters who'll make an indelible mark on my heart – and by the end of the story, she did exactly that and then some!   For me, Joan was more than just a favorite character; she was a kindred spirit whose smart, observant, witty voice expressed thoughts and feelings that I resonated deeply with.  Though certain aspects of Joan's background were similar to mine (Chinese daughter of immigrant parents who came to the U.S. in pursuit of the American dream; has a disillusioned older brother whose values are opposite of her own; grew up in a household where she had to straddle two completely different and opposing cultures, etc.), where we actually had the most in common was in our reclusive personalities, which is significant to me because my personality plays a huge role in my life experiences.  This is partly why I related so well to Joan as a character, since so many of her experiences and struggles are ones I'm familiar with myself.  When Joan talks about immersing herself as deeply into the studious part of her schooling (she "went from library to classroom and only returned to the dorm to sleep") as she could to avoid having to socialize or interact with others, or when her boss praises her work ethic, she cringes and tries to change the subject because she hates drawing attention to herself and is uncomfortable receiving praise, or when she has problems communicating with others, whether friends or family, and therefore gets herself into awkward situations – all of these are deja vu experiences that I've struggled with my entire life.  Most of all, Joan's "relationship" with her work hit the hardest for me, as I struggle with the exact same experience of being defined primarily by my work, often to the detriment of other "relationships" as well as to my own well-being (I both laughed and cried at Joan's "reaction" to being forced to take time off from work – I laughed because it was truly hilarious how that situation unfolded, but then thinking about the implications in my own situation was a bit upsetting).   Reading this book was actually a roller coaster ride for me emotionally – at some parts, I would laugh so hard that I nearly fell out of my chair, but then on the next page, something would happen that would be a gut punch to me and I'd feel like crying.

 

One of the things that this book did exceptionally well was breakdown the aspects of Chinese versus American culture in a way that was succinct and accurate (and funny without deliberately trying to be funny), yet still respectful to both cultures.  My favorite scenes were the ones where Joan would have conversations with her mother, whether by phone or face-to-face, and a few words in, the various clashes of culture (east versus west), generation (older vs younger), values (work vs family), etc. would come out in full force – clashes that I was more than familiar with having experienced most of them myself continuously my entire life.  Most of the conversations were short, but yet, there was so much context there, and covering so much ground.  Being an immigrant myself, I'm of course drawn to immigrant stories and having read my fair share of them, I have to say that this book, more than any of the others I've read, comes the closest to relaying what my personal journey as a Chinese woman growing up in an immigrant family in America truly feels like.

 

As I said from the beginning, there was so much I loved about this book that there's no way I would be able to do justice to it with a simple review. In addition to the "immigrant story" aspect (though those of us who read a lot of immigrant stories will quickly find out that this one is technically not the "typical" immigrant story that we are used to reading), this is also a timely story that, in its short 200+ pages, manages to also explore what it is like being a Chinese American female doctor working at a major hospital in New York at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic (having followed the news and the course of events in society over the past 18 months, the significance of this portrayal is not lost on me).  This is a book that I highly, highly recommend and yes, I am definitely going to go back and read this author's debut novel, Chemistry.

 

As a concluding thought, I wanted to share an excerpt of one of my favorite passages from the book (this is one of many – looking back, I probably highlighted close to 80% of the book!).  The lead up to this is that Joan is reflecting on an incident earlier on when she let her neighbor Mark talk her into having a party at her New York apartment – a situation that actually she abhors, since she hates parties:

 

My epiphany. Mark was just like Reese [her colleague at the hospital] —well-meaning in some ways, clueless in others. Neither could imagine having wasted another person's time or consuming every square inch of air in a room. Because Room People were full of themselves. They believed their own perspectives reigned supreme. And whereas I was taught to not stick out or aggravate your surroundings, to not cause any trouble and to be a good guest, someone like Mark was brought up with different rules—yes, push back, provoke, assert yourself, some trouble is good, since the rest of us will always go easy on you and, if anything, reward you for just being you....I chose to not text him back or do what I wanted to do, which was call and lay into him until he could finally see where I was coming from.  Expending more energy on him wasn't the answer.  Why try to explain yourself to someone who had no capacity to listen?

 

This was one of many profound passages from the book that I loved because, through Joan's voice, Wang put into words my sentiments exactly when it comes to interacting with people around me.  It wasn't until I read this passage that I realized I've been surrounded by "Room People" most of my life and, like Joan, I've struggled through numerous "why did I let them talk me into this" situations – but it doesn't have to be this way.  Why continue to expend energy on people or situations that do nothing but bring awkwardness/misery/regret?  Instead, I now understand that others may have been brought up with different rules and I don't have to compromise mine in order to conform to theirs. 

 

Received ARC from Random House via NetGalley.