Review: The Invisible Hour (by Alice Hoffman)

My Rating:  4 stars

I had heard so many great things about Alice Hoffman's works, but didn't get the chance to read anything by her until now.  Hoffman's newest book, The Invisible Hour, is a beautifully written story that covers so much ground theme-wise.  It is about a mother's undying love for her daughter, about the freedom of choice and defying the restrictions that society places on women, about love, heartbreak, self-discovery, found families, and what I loved most of all:  the enduring power of books and the myriad ways they can affect those who read them.  I'm sure many an avid reader will be able to recall an example of when the right book came into their lives at exactly the right time that resulted in a profound change or impact in some way.  In the case of the main protagonist in this story, Mia Jacob, the book is The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne — a book that not only (literally) saves her life, but also goes beyond that in its ability to provide profound clarity and meaning as the book accompanies her through her journey of self-discovery.

Hoffman weaves in time travel and magical realism to great effect here.  The first part of the story is set in an undefined "here and now" in Boston, Massachusetts, where Ivy Jacob, a young girl from a wealthy family, finds herself pregnant and alone after her boyfriend abandons her and her parents threaten to send her away as well as put the baby up for adoption.  Ivy runs away and ends up on a farm in rural Massachusetts, which turns out to be an oppressive cult called the Community, run by a charismatic but dangerous man named Joel Davis.  Ivy marries Joel and gives birth to her daughter, Mia.  The Community has strict rules and people who reside there are often subject to harsh punishments for the slightest infraction — punishments that usually involve public humiliation of some sort, such as having their hair forcefully cut or having a letter branded on their bodies.  When Mia commits the cardinal sin of reading books in secret (books are considered evil and are banned in the Community), she finds herself in an untenable situation where she must take matters into her own hands.  The second part of the story is set in 1837, in Salem, Massachusetts, and focuses on Nathaniel Hawthorne's life in the years prior to him writing the novel that would make home famous.  In part three of the story is where both worlds collide in ways that are interesting and unexpected, yet follow a trajectory that is careful about not altering history.

This was a book that I couldn't help being immersed in the entire time I was reading it, even though stories with time travel and magical realism aren't usually my jam.  I think much of this had to do with Hoffman's exquisite writing and brilliant storytelling, which wove the historical and fantastical elements together in a compelling fashion (though I have to say that I was a bit ambivalent about the ending).  When I finished the book, my first thought was to marvel at how Hoffman pulled this story off in a way that felt both magical and historically believable, while also incorporating timely commentary on societal issues.  Of course, this was also a wonderful tribute to books and reading. 

What a great first experience with Hoffman's works!  This definitely got me interested in reading her other books at some point.

Oh, also, for those who decide to pick this one up, there's a moving, gorgeously written Author's Letter at the beginning of the book that is absolutely not to be missed.  

Received ARC from Atria Books via Edelweiss

Review: Happiness Falls (by Angie Kim)

My Rating:  3 stars

I have such mixed feelings about this book.  On the one hand, I really liked the story and absolutely appreciated the way Angie Kim brought much-needed insight to a condition that's so misunderstood.  Not only did I learn a lot from the story, it also made me deeply reflect on my own preconceptions and biases and most importantly, it changed my perception on how I approach things that I may not understand.  On the other hand, I really really really did NOT like the way the entire story was executed. 

The story actually starts off fine — the first couple pages, the first chapter even, drew me in and I was invested.  I had read Angie Kim's debut Miracle Creek (which I loved), so I anticipated there would be some "science-y" stuff in this book as well (which I'm usually not keen on, but if the science stuff is incorporated well and it doesn't feel overwhelming, I'm fine with it) — seeing how perfectly Kim had integrated science into that book, I was expecting the same here as well. Unfortunately, this would not be the case, as it turns out this book was written very very differently from her previous one.  The science stuff in here wasn't just overwhelming, it was way over the top in my opinion, to the point that it bogged the story down. But that was a minor problem overall — the biggest problem I actually  had with this book was the narrative voice.  

The entire story is narrated from the first person (sometimes switching to second person) point of view of twenty-year-old Mia Parkson, who is mixed race (half Korean, half white), but she looks more Asian than her fraternal twin John Parkson, whom most people mistake for a white person (I say this because race does play a role in the story). They have a younger brother, Eugene, who has both autism and the genetic condition Angelman syndrome, so he is not able to speak.  Their mother Hannah is a linguistics professor and their father Adam is a stay-at-home dad who takes care of the household. The incident that sets the story in motion occurs pretty early on, when Eugene returns home by himself, bloody and disheveled, while his dad Adam, who had taken him for their usual morning walk to the park, didn't accompany him back.  Soon, the police are involved and an investigation is launched to figure out what happened to Adam. 

Mia narrates the story and pretty much gives us (the readers) a "play-by-play" of everything that happens, from the moment Eugene returns home and throughout the entire investigation. This normally wouldn't be a problem — except that, in this case, Mia is an INCREDIBLY annoying character.  The book's summary refers to Mia as "irreverent" and "over analytical" which are both true, but the problem I had is that Mia goes beyond that — she is also cynical, arrogant, self-absorbed, a bit narcissistic, and, like her father notes at one point, has a "sarcastic attitude and general disregard for others' feelings" (which Mia agrees is a perfect assessment of her but still can't help hating everyone who describes her as such).  For me, the most annoying part about having Mia narrate the story is that she kept "getting in the way" — in addition to repeatedly jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about EVERY SINGLE THING (even though she keeps telling herself that she's "learned her lesson" and won't do it again), much of the story consisted of Mia constantly justifying and re-justifying her behavior / thoughts / actions. Whenever anyone would say anything or anything would happen, it would be quickly followed by at least a paragraph (sometimes multiple paragraphs) of Mia's analyses and assumptions — to the point where it felt like the story would veer off into "Mia's justification tangents" every other page.  For me, this was not just annoying, but also extremely frustrating — after awhile, I actually found myself yelling at Mia to just shut the hell up and stop interrupting the story every 5 seconds to talk about herself.

I honestly wish this story had been told in third person rather than first person, as I felt it would've been much more impactful and powerful.  From reading the Author's Note, it sounded like one of the purposes for Kim writing this story in the first place was to call attention to our assumptions and biases as a society, especially toward people with special needs — while some of that did come through in the story (case in point: Eugene's struggles with communicating led me to read up on Angelman syndrome and the teaching methods described in the book), unfortunately, for me at least, the frustration with Mia's narration overshadowed majority of the story and made it hard for me to focus much on anything else.

Like I said earlier, I loved Miracle Creek, so I was really looking forward to reading this one (which makes me a little sad that this book didn't quite work out for me).  One thing I've figured out about my reading habits lately (this year especially) is that I'm very much a "character-driven" reader — meaning that the voice in which a story is told is more important to me than I realize and can have a huge impact on my reading experience.  I say this because I've read quite a few books this past year where the story was told from the first person perspective of an "unlikable to the point of annoying" character and each time, I ended up getting so frustrated with the character that it essentially turned me off to the rest of the story (even in the cases where the writing was brilliant and everything else about the story was awesome).  It makes me realize that, for me as a reader, these types of annoying characters are only tolerable if I'm able to read about them with a layer of remove — when I'm forced to listen to them go on and on (and on and on and on) about their own flaws (especially when the character is unapologetic about those flaws and there are little to no redeeming qualities), it negatively impacts my reading experience.  

With all that said, if I were to look past the narration issues, there was actually a lot to like about the story (which is one reason why I struggled so much with rating this).  I loved the character of Eugene and felt the mystery aspect was well done…also, there were some really important societal issues that were explored in here that were thought-provoking and necessary — I'm pretty sure if this had been told in a different narrative voice, I would've really taken to the story overall, as it's the type of story that's usually right up my alley.  Of course, this is just me — there are a lot of readers who loved this one, so it's probably best to check out those reviews as well before deciding whether to pick this one up.  

Received ARC from Hogarth via NetGalley.

Review: Tomb Sweeping (by Alexandra Chang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

This was an interesting collection of 15 short stories by Alexandra Chang, whose previous novel Days of Distraction I had read several years back and really enjoyed.  With this particular collection, I was drawn to certain stories more than others, which isn't surprising, as that's my usual reaction to short story collections that aren't linked somehow. While I would say that I did enjoy this collection overall in terms of content and writing, I didn't like that all the stories felt incomplete in some way — in some cases, I felt like I was being dropped in the middle of a scene that had already been happening, while in other cases, the ending felt so abrupt that I couldn't helping thinking I was missing some pages perhaps. That feeling of "incompleteness" is one of the things that makes short story collections a hit or miss for me (though at the same time, it's hard for me to not read them if I come across a collection that seems like it would suit my tastes).

For me, one of the things that stood out the most with this collection was the way Chang plays around with form in some of the stories. 

The first story that started off the collection, entitled "Unknown by Unknown"definitely captured my attention with its tense buildup, but then it veered a little bit into the abstract and in the end, I didn't really understand where it was going (though maybe that was just me).  The second story, "Li Fan" was the most interesting as well as the most obviously experimental one — the entire story was told backwards (which I actually didn't realize until I was about a quarter of the way through the story and was wondering why it read so oddly), with the last sentence first and the first sentence last.  This was definitely a unique structure, one that I'd never seen employed before, though to be honest, it didn't quite work for me, since I prefer stories in a more straightforward format (I get too distracted otherwise).  I actually had to go back and re-read this story the "right" way (starting at the end back to the beginning, which did irk me a little).  The story "Me and My Algo" features an algorithm as a main character (that is essentially in conversation with the unnamed first person narrator), while the story "Cat Personalities" consists of two characters talking about each other (and a friend) in relation to each of their cat's personality traits.

Even though I didn't necessarily resonate with some of the stories, I did appreciate overall the familiarity of the themes that we as Asian Americans and immigrants often struggle with — themes such as identity and our relationship with society, generational disparity and differences, reconciling past with present, the role of family and the way the dynamics evolve in an immigrant household, etc.   There also seemed to be quite a few stories relating to technology, which was interesting considering this was a central theme in Chang's previous work as well.

Overall, this was a pretty decent collection and I'm glad I read it, despite not necessarily understanding the message behind each story. I'm interested in seeing what Chang will write next, though I'm definitely hoping that it will be a novel rather than short stories.

Received ARC from Ecco Press via NetGalley.

Review: Persuasion (by Jane Austen)

My Rating:  5 stars

I read Persuasion for the first time back in high school and it quickly became my second favorite of Jane Austen's novels.  In my past reviews, I've talked about my love for Pride and Prejudice and while that has been (and continues to be) my favorite Austen novel, Persuasion is not too far behind it.  That being said, I have actually not re-read Persuasion as often over the years as I have P&P (which I will explain why a in a bit), so when I found out I would get a chance to re-read the novel again for one of the classes I'm taking, I was ecstatic (though the "literature nerd" in me would force me to admit that part of the excitement had to do with getting to deep dive into a classic again — something I hadn't done in a long time).  While I relished the opportunity to get reacquainted with all the characters in here (I've always liked the supporting characters in this story more than the ones in P&P), I was especially looking forward to experiencing Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth's love story again.  

For me, Persuasion has always been the most moving and most emotionally resonant of Austen's novels, and this most recent re-read only served to reinforce that fact.  Out of all of Austen's heroines, Anne Elliot is the one I find most relatable in terms of personality, comportment, feelings, thoughts, actions, and overall experiences she goes through.  Unlike the other Austen heroines, Anne is the loneliest and most isolated in that she doesn't have anyone around her who truly understands her, or who she can confide in or talk through her feelings with.  Her family (specifically her useless and vain father Sir Walter and her older sister Elizabeth) take her for granted — they never listen to what she has to say, her opinions are never regarded for anything (even though she is the most sensible one in her family), and she is pretty much treated as invisible (most of the time, Anne's father and sister don't even remember that she is in the room).  Even though she has a close relationship with Lady Russell, who is like a mother to her and advises/mentors her on all matters in a way that (usually) has her best interests in mind, at the end of the day, Lady Russell does not truly understand Anne's heart (a fact that Anne thankfully is not blind to).  While the Musgroves (her sister Mary's in-laws and family) are kind to Anne and it can even be said that they adore her (they definitely like her more than Mary), they also don't really "know" her; in a way, Anne's relationship with the Musgroves can be viewed in her "usefulness" to them — as a patient listener to their problems, as a fixer when issues arise, as a companion for her sister Mary when she gets in one of her exasperatingly whiny moods, as a caretaker for her sister's children, and as a friend who is always willing to be of help (though they are definitely more of a "family" to her than her own father and older sister). Anne's internal suffering, regret, longing, and whatever feelings she has overall about anything (especially her feelings about Wentworth) are mostly overlooked by those around her.  I resonate so deeply with Anne because so many of my experiences mirror hers (i.e.: not having anyone around who truly understands me, the feelings of loneliness and isolation, the feelings of regret and being resigned to fading into the background and finding ways to make myself useful to others,  etc).   Because of this personal connection that I feel to Anne, I'm constantly rooting for her throughout the story and of course, rejoicing with her when she finally gets her wish and is united with the man she loves in the end.

Even though I'm already familiar with the story and characters to the point that I already know what's coming, I can't help feeling a little emotional each time I re-read Persuasion — though in a way, I guess this is to be expected given that this is the most melancholic of Austen's novels as well as the one with the least amount of her signature wit and humor. This is actually one of the reasons why I don't re-read this one as often, as it admittedly leaves me feeling a bit melancholic myself afterwards (though another reason is because this was the last novel that Austen completed before she died, which always makes me a little sad when I think about it).  With that said, I also feel that this is the most beautifully written of Austen's novels — whether in its prose and language, story and character development, pacing, artistry, etc., there seems to be a level of maturity with this book that we don't see in her previous works.

Those who've never read Austen before often ask which of her novels they should start with — the most popular answer, of course, is usually Pride and Prejudice (and yes, I actually would recommend that one too).  But Persuasion is also a great choice (and it also has the advantage of being much shorter than P&P, so probably a quicker read).  Ideally though, if you are able to read both, that would be my ultimate recommendation!

P.S.: Please don't get me started on the recent Netflix adaptation of Persuasion.  All I'm going to say is that I lean more toward the "purist" camp when it comes to book adaptations, which should tell you all you need to know regarding how I felt about that particular adaptation…

Review: Tom Lake (by Ann Patchett)

My Rating:  5 stars

Ann Patchett has done it again!  One of my favorite authors on the planet has once again written a poignant, beautiful story, masterfully told in a way that had me hanging on to her every word from the first page to the last (and never wanting it to end).  

Told from the first person viewpoint of the main character Lara Kinnison, who lives with her husband Joe on a cherry farm in Michigan, the story weaves seamlessly between past and present as Lara tells her three grown daughters (who have returned to the farm during the pandemic to help with cherry picking) about the time she played summer stock at a theater company named Tom Lake, where she also had a brief romance with an actor named Peter Duke (who later becomes a hugely popular and famous actor).   I mention the pandemic, but please note that this is NOT a pandemic novel — instead, this is a novel about complicated family dynamics (especially the relationship between parents and their children), about love in its many iterations, about the innocence of youth, and above all else, about the complexities of human relationships.

With this novel, Patchett once again does what she is so good at — she presents an epic, luminous, profoundly perceptive story, but in a way that is subtle, exquisite, and never feels overwhelming. Patchett writes with an emotional subtlety that I absolutely love, but it was especially effective with this story, which, at its core, is an homage to Thornton Wilder's classic play Our Town. There was so much to love about this book — the gorgeous prose, the flawless writing, the endearing characters, the subtle humor, the picturesque setting, the quiet beauty of the story told in a wistful yet hopeful tone, the perfect amount of detail to establish a sense of place that made for an incredibly immersive experience, etc (and that's just scratching the surface).

In terms of the Our Town references — I had actually never read that classic, but immediately after finishing Tom Lake, I went and bought a copy of Our Town because I felt compelled to finally read it (on a recent podcast interview that Patchett did, the host said she should get a commission for all the times someone bought Our Town after reading her novel and I agree 100%!).  

Given how much I adored Patchett's newest novel, of course I recommend that everyone read it.  For me, I will read anything she writes at this point and while I wait for future new work, I will continue to slowly work my way through her backlist as I have been doing (I intend to be a completist of her work at some point).

Received ARC from Harper via NetGalley.

Review: Family Lore (by Elizabeth Acevedo)

My Rating:  3 stars

I read Elizabeth Acevedo's YA novel-in-verse The Poet X in book club a few years back and absolutely loved it.  I loved the book even more after I got the chance to watch an author talk that Acevedo did where she read an excerpt from the book out loud (with her being a poet, this was a wonderful treat that definitely enhanced my experience of the book).  Given this admiration for Acevedo's previous work, I was of course excited when I heard she would have a new book out this summer and that it would be her first novel for adults.

Family Lore is a story about a Dominican-American family told from the rotating perspectives of the Marte sisters — Matilde, Flor, Pastora, Camila — and their daughters Ona and Yadi.  Written in a non-linear format, the story is centered around the living wake that second eldest sister Flor decides to throw for herself to celebrate the long life that she has lived.  While this request may not be particularly unusual, it sets off anxiety and panic within this family because of the special "gift" that Flor possesses:  the ability to "see death" — that is, to predict (in some cases, to the exact day) when someone will die (the premonition comes in a dream to her). Whether Flor saw her own death or someone else's, she refuses to say, which has the family speculating as to the motivation behind the wake.  Flor's sister Pastora also has a "gift" of her own — the ability to "see truth" whereby she can tell just from the way someone talks and the tone of their voice whether they are lying or not.  So the family looks to Pastora to hopefully talk to Flor and get some answers— but instead, Pastora chooses to confront oldest sister Matilde about her unfaithful husband Rafa, whose philandering ways Matilde has tolerated for decades.  Meanwhile, their next generation, Yadi and Ona, have their own struggles and issues that they are secretly dealing with.  In the three days leading up to the wake, some things happen that lead the various characters to reminisce and reflect about their pasts, with a few "secrets" that undoubtedly spill forth in the process.  This is the part where the story jumps back and forth not just between time periods (past and present, though without specific timeframe), but also between settings, with scenes taking place in the Dominican Republic as well as in the United States (specifically in New York).

This was an interesting story that I found to be beautifully written with prose that was both poetic and lyrical.  With that said however, the format, unfortunately, didn't quite work for me. First, there were way too many characters, all with their own unique backstories that were told in alternating chapters non-chronologically, which made things hard to follow.  As I was reading, I was having a hard time keeping everyone's story straight, which was frustrating (though it helped that Acevedo included a character table at the front of the book, which I had to refer back to more often than not). The other aspect that I felt didn't really work were the snippets of commentary from Ona that were inserted throughout the story.  Ona's character, an anthropologist, interviewed various members of her family for a research project she was working on, and excerpts from those interviews were woven into the story — which I didn't mind, except that I felt those most of those snippets and segments didn't contribute much to advancing the plot, and given the non-linear nature of the story, it just made things more confusing (for me at least).  Thirdly, the story felt too scattered, with multiple threads that seemed to go in different directions, and while the threads did come together at the end, once I got there, I still felt like I didn't really know what was going on (and it also didn't help that the ending itself felt too abrupt and ambiguous, which made an already complicated structure even more confusing).

Overall, I felt that this story had potential, it's just that it was executed in a way that was more complex than it needed to be.  I did find several of the sisters' backstories interesting, especially in seeing how some of the things that happened in their lives shaped who they eventually became — but it felt like too much to explore all at the same time.  Perhaps a better approach would've been to focus only on one or two main characters' arcs rather than try to cover everyone's story all at once. As a whole though, I did appreciate what Acevedo was trying to do and indeed, there was much that I did enjoy about the book, but unfortunately, the tedious and frustrating reading experience won out in the end.

Though Acevedo's first foray into adult fiction didn't quite land for me, I continue to be an admirer of her YA works, with The Poet Xremaining an unforgettable favorite.  I also continue to look forward to any future works she might come out with, be it YA or adult — though hopefully the next adult one will be a better experience.

Received ARC from Ecco via NetGalley.

Review: Emma (by Jane Austen)

My Rating:  5 stars

I've been in a nostalgic mood lately and felt compelled to revisit some of the entertainment that had given me so much joy in my youth. Back during my school days, I was always an avid reader who pretty much read everything under the sun and never had a preference for any particular author or book.  That all changed when I read Pride and Prejudice for the first time in eighth grade and fell in love with Jane Austen's unique sense of humor as well as writing style.  Up to that point, I had already read a fair share of "classic" novels, but it wasn't until I encountered Austen's work for the first time that I realized reading classics could actually be so much fun.  Austen was the first author I remember publicly declaring as a favorite (to the point that I was nicknamed "Austen fangirl" throughout junior high and high school).  While my "favorites" list has expanded to include plenty of other authors over the past three decades, Austen has remained, without a doubt, at the very top of that list (a position that I don't foresee ever changing).

So I guess it should come as no surprise that, to satisfy the nostalgic itch to re-immerse myself in Austen's world, I decided to enroll in a class about Jane Austen  that I had come across recently.  The first book we explored in class was Emma, the "comedy of manners" that happened to be one of the few Austen works that I had never read in its entirety.  Reading Emma for the first time was a delight!  Of course, it was very different from P&P (which will always be my all-time favorite Austen work), especially with its focus more on language and prose than plot.  Also, in another departure from P&P, the main characters here (including our main "heroine" Emma Woodhouse) were less likable, and could even be considered "annoying" at certain points — but yet, despite their flaws, you can't help rooting for them by the end of the story.   For me, this is one of the brilliant aspects of Austen's writing — the way she is able to make her characters memorable to the reader, even the unlikable ones.

There is so much that could be said about this book, especially in comparisons to Austen's other works. This, for me, is one of the joys of studying an author in depth and seeing how their style evolves (or doesn't) across their works.  One of the things that has always stood out to me about Austen's works is how each re-read of the same novel still manages to feel different — for example, you catch things that you might not have noticed the first go-round, or some scenes / dialogue take on a different meaning upon re-reading.  In that sense, Austen's writing is nuanced, yet not complex to the point that it it takes a lot of brainpower and deep thinking to understand what she is trying to say.  While I don't plan to re-read Emma any time soon (mostly because I have an overflowing TBR stack that I need to get through), I am looking forward to staying in Austen's world a little longer by exploring (and in some cases, actually re-reading) some of her other works in the coming weeks.

Review: Days at the Morisaki Bookshop (by Satoshi Yagisawa)

My Rating:  3 stars

I was drawn to this story initially because of the bookish premise.  After twenty five year old Takako loses her boyfriend and her job in the span of a day, she has nowhere else to turn — so when her uncle Satoru invites her to stay in a room above his Morisaki bookshop in exchange for helping him watch the shop several hours a day, Takako agrees, even though she has never been a reader and has no interest in books.  When she arrives at the location of her family's bookshop in Jimbocho, she finds that the area is actually a book lover's paradise where "everywhere you turned, there was another bookshop."  At the Morisaki bookshop, Takako is (literally) surrounded by books day and night — not surprisingly, she also encounters various people who love to read.  Pretty soon, Takako experiences for herself the healing power of books, but more significantly, her stay at the bookshop ends up changing her life in ways she never thought possible.

This was a simple, quiet story filled with eccentric yet endearing characters that you couldn't help but love — for me, these were the main strengths of the book.  Unfortunately, the execution didn't quite work for me, as the writing felt choppy and stilted, with some sections sounding really awkward to read.  The pacing also felt off, with the two parts that the story was divided into feeling like two different books, which kind of threw me off a bit.  I'm not sure if something was lost in translation or the original work was written this way, but I just felt like there was more potential to the story than was tapped into.  And I must admit that I was a tad disappointed with the second half of the story veering away from the bookish aspects that played such a huge role in the first half.

Overall, this was an "okay" read.  I enjoyed some aspects over others and definitely felt the first half of the story was much stronger. This is an instance where I wish I knew Japanese so I could check out the original work and see if the experience would be different.  Ah well, that's how things go, I guess.

Received ARC from Harper Perennial via NetGalley.

Review: The Postcard (by Anne Berest)

My Rating: 4 stars

This was a unique read for me — not in terms of subject matter of course, as I've read plenty of books over the years about World War II from various perspectives as well as about the Holocaust. Rather, the "uniqueness" of this particular reading experience had to do with the format of the story, which was a combination of historical fiction and autobiography that I honestly had never encountered before. The formatting of the story wasn't exactly seamless, as the switching between first, second, and third person narrative, plus some of the dialogue and wording used made it relatively easy to tell which parts were historical and which parts were biographical. Also, there were quite a few references to exact addresses, dates, titles, and direct quotes/references from research material inserted throughout the story (especially in the first two-thirds of the book) that sometimes made it feel like I was reading a history textbook instead of a novel. Though these things were distracting and did take me out of the story at times, fortunately the storytelling overall was compelling enough that, after awhile, I became absorbed in the story and stopped thinking about the format as much.

The story is actually based on the author Anne Berest's own family history and the mysterious postcard that her mother Lelia received in January 2003 with four names on it: Ephraim, Emma, Noemie, Jacques. Ephraim and Emma Rabinovitch were Lelia's grandparents (her mother Myriam was their eldest daughter), while Noemie and Jacques were her aunt and uncle (Myriam's siblings) — all four of them had died in Auschwitz in 1942. Lelia's mother Myriam had survived the war, but had died 8 years prior (in 1995). The postcard is put away in a drawer and forgotten about until years later, when something happens in Anne's life that moves her to investigate the origins of the postcard (who sent it and why). With the help of her mother Lelia as well as several others, Anne sets out on a journey to piece together her family history in the hopes that it will lead her to the truth.

Given the subject matter, this was undoubtedly a difficult read at times. The scenes describing the atrocities of war and the aftermath were especially hard to stomach, to the point that I had to put the book down for a bit to regain my bearings in order to continue on with the rest of the story. Majority of the story took place in France and there was a lot of detail about the French government's role in helping to perpetuate the Holocaust through their actions of arresting and deporting Jews (oftentimes in collaboration with the Nazi regime in Germany) — which was an interesting angle that I haven't seen explored often.

The novel itself was actually written in French originally, but the English translation was so well done that it was honestly hard to tell (if I hadn't already known going into this one that it was a translation, I would've never guessed). Like I mentioned earlier, this one actually crossed several genres (historical, contemporary, literary, biography, etc.) but the "mystery" at its core, with Anne trying to find out who sent the postcard, was one of the elements that kept me turning the pages. Also, despite the page count (my hard cover version was exactly 475 pages), plus I had figured out early on who sent the postcard and why (I was actually surprised how spot on my theory was), at no point did that diminish my appreciation of the story.

Again, with the heaviness of the subject matter, this was not an easy read by any means and not surprisingly, it did take a bit of an emotional toll on me. Nevertheless, I still recommend this one, as it's both a necessary and timely read given some of the things happening in society currently. I'm glad I ghost the chance to read this and I hope more people will as well.

Review: Good Fortune (by C.K. Chau)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

As a long time Jane Austen fan, I've re-read her most popular (and well-known) novel Pride and Prejudice more times than I can count since encountering it for the first time back in 8th grade (don't ask me how long ago that was, lol).  Given how much I love P&P (it's definitely one of my favorite novels of all time), I've always been extremely wary of any books that attempt to retell or reimagine the classic in any way, shape, or form — that is to say, I try to avoid reading any retellings as much as possible.  With that said, there are occasions (albeit rare) where I'm drawn to a book precisely because of its P&P and/or Austen adjacent angle and end up really glad that I decided to give the book a chance due to how much I enjoyed the experience.  C.K. Chau's debut novel Good Fortune, a contemporary retelling of P&P set in New York's Chinatown, fit the bill perfectly. 

I was actually first drawn to this book out of curiosity, as I was interested in seeing what a Chinese-American spin on P&P would look like. Then, after I read the premise, I was even more interested, as I saw that the book would combine several things that were long familiar to me — the Pride and Prejudice story, Chinese culture and traditions, an immigrant family story, cultural identity, and best of all, an entire cast of characters who were all ethnically Chinese (with the exception of one character).  Once I started reading the book however, I was even more delighted to discover that the family at the center of the story (as well as most of the major characters) were all from Hong Kong (my birth city), and more importantly, the entire story would be permeated with not just Chinese culture, but more specifically Cantonese culture (which is what I grew up with and know very well).  I can't emphasize enough how rare it is to see Cantonese culture — my culture — represented so authentically in a mainstream American novel (and it's even more refreshing to see both the good and the not-so-good aspects represented).  I loved how Chau was able to seamlessly work in so many elements from a culture that I was more than familiar with:  the family-run Chinese restaurant where everyone was expected to chip in to keep the business afloat; the nosy and gossipy neighborhood aunties with their relentlessly prying questions (one of my favorite scenes in the book was during Alexa's wedding when the 5 Chen sisters were forced to politely endure the way-too-personal rapid-fire questions from a bunch of oblivious aunties — a "ritual" that I've endured countless times growing up, lol); the Cantonese turns-of-phrases sprinkled throughout the dialogue (in addition to the actual Cantonese words, I got a kick out of seeing colloquialisms such as "ai ya" and "aa" and the "la" at the end of some sentences); the descriptions of local Cantonese cuisine and dishes that, frankly, made me salivate; the Hong Kong pop culture references (I laughed when I saw TVB dramas mentioned at one point in the story); and what I loved most of all, the weekly Cantonese family tradition of yum cha (aka dim sum) — in one (amongst many) of my favorite scenes, Chau perfectly captured the "mad chaos" yum cha experience as we Cantonese are used to experiencing it: the standing room only wait amongst a sea of people for your number to be called, the musical chairs dance / fight for a table, the designated person in the family responsible for chasing down the aunties with the dim sum carts, then getting back to the table only to find that the only food left is whatever you have in your hand (which you had to claw tooth and nail to get), the entire meal taking up most of your morning, only to leave hungrier than when you first arrived…my first thought when I read that entire scene was that only someone who grew up immersed in the Cantonese culture could write a scene like that (needless to say, I LOVED IT!!!). 

Of course, what would a P&P retelling be without the P&P story elements?  In this aspect, I felt that Chau did a brilliant job.  It was fascinating to see how she brought the story from 19th century Regency England to 21st century contemporary America, while also adapting to the modern sensibilities of the times.  Most of the characters we're  familiar with are here (though some with different names and backgrounds):  the Chen family headed by the father Vincent (who, like Mr Bennett, is constantly seeking peace from the chaos of the household), the mother Jade (a high-strung hypochondriac), and 5 daughters Jane, Elizabeth (nicknamed LB in the story), Mary, Kitty, and Lydia;  Darcy Wong, his sister Geo (short for Georgiana); his friend Brendan Lee who has 2 sisters named Caroline and Louisa; Charlotte Luo (LB's best friend); Geoffrey Collins (yes, that Collins), who is the only non-Chinese character in the story; Lady Catherine (yes, there is a character actually named "Right Honorable Lady Catherine") and of course, the main villain Wickham (though he is not called anything close to Wickham in the story, but P&P fans will instantly recognize him as the Wickham equivalent). In terms of plot points, Chau definitely adapted the story to modern times — replacing marriage proposals with job offers, an email confession instead of a handwritten letter, fundraising galas instead of elaborate society balls, etc. (just a few examples). And YES, Pemberley absolutely makes an appearance (but you will have to read the book to find out how and what).  Oh and there is PLENTY of Austen-style humor in here too (gosh, I can't remember the last time I laughed so often while reading a novel).

A quick mention regarding our favorite couple (how could I resist?) — the Elizabeth in this story was actually more "bad-ass" than Austen's original version, which I found interesting and cool (I ended up liking this version of Elizabeth as much as I did our beloved Lizzie).  In terms of the character of Darcy in this story — he was ok, but it was honestly hard for me to picture a Chinese Darcy…regardless though, I think it's going to be a losing battle no matter who tries to "become" Darcy, as whenever I hear that name, the only face that will forever come to mind is Colin Firth's (lol).

By now, it's probably pretty obvious how much I loved this one (though part of me is still a bit surprised).  While it's not necessary to have read Pride and Prejudice prior to reading this one (since the story works pretty well on its own), the reading experience is definitely a lot more fun and enjoyable if you're familiar with the original story (and it's a bonus if you're familiar with the culture aspects as well).  This clever and charming story ended up being the P&P retelling that I didn't know I wanted to read.  I can't wait to see what C.K. Chau has in store for us next!

Received ARC from HarperVia Publishing via NetGalley.