I think this book is important for highlighting the racism Japanese Americans faced historically in the United States. One compelling theme is the pusI think this book is important for highlighting the racism Japanese Americans faced historically in the United States. One compelling theme is the push and pull between assimilating to mainstream American culture and resisting such pressures. I liked that John Okada was honest and angry in his writing about racism, especially given that the main character in this novel spent two years in a Japanese internment camp. I didn’t find the writing style of No-No Boy super engaging, though I appreciate the novel for its historical significance in regard to Japanese American/Asian American literature.
Also, note that there’s some fatphobia, glorification of whiteness (e.g., saying that an Asian woman’s legs were “strong and shapely like a white woman’s,” which, yikes), and anti-Blackness (e.g., use of the n word) in this novel. These issues didn’t heavily influence my rating, though I feel like it’s important to name these things even if people might feel like they’re a product of the time in which this novel was written....more
Okay you all… what did I just read. What did I just read.
I almost gave this book two stars. I think My Year of Meats contains some interesting commentOkay you all… what did I just read. What did I just read.
I almost gave this book two stars. I think My Year of Meats contains some interesting commentary about the production and marketing of meat on a global level. It also highlights the cruelty of patriarchal abuse and violence.
However, I just cannot get past the horrible anti-Black racism that Ruth Ozeki perpetuates in this novel. I was literally shocked when I read these passages given how I hadn’t seen anyone point them out before. I’m going to provide a few examples, though be warned they’re super racist.
At one point the Asian American protagonist, Jane, studies abroad in Japan and meets a Black man there, Emil. Ozeki describes Jane’s encounter with Emil as such:
“He towered over them – tall, coal black, utterly different. Our eyes met over the tops of the schoolgirls’ heads and he froze like a panther, hungry after a long nap, at the sight of an antelope jogging by.”
What the actual f*ck?? Why could you compare a Black man to a literal animal? That’s literally so dehumanizing and degrading and racist. And then, on the same page, Ozeki writes this of Emil’s voice: “his voice was like chocolate.” Now you’re comparing a Black person to food. Also, what does chocolate even sound like? Does chocolate make a sound?? And to top this all off, on the following page, Jane assumes that Emil is an athlete. When Emil points out that this is a racist assumption, Jane gets defensive, and then, the worst part – Ozeki literally writes their interaction so that Emil doesn’t care that Jane was racist toward him, and the two proceed to have a romantic relationship for two years. I am not even kidding. This is 100% what happens.
You might say: but Thomas, this book is at least slightly satirical, so maybe that’s why Ozeki wrote these racist passages. Okay, sure, satire, whatever, but even if that were the case, I feel like satire is supposed to have an actual point. In my opinion satire should have some sort of purpose, like to communicate social commentary (that ideally punches up). In this book, Ozeki’s anti-Black racism served no purpose. There are at least two other examples of anti-Black racism I detected in this book, one in which an interracial lesbian couple perpetuates the stereotype of Black men as hypersexual (the quote from the book: “Yeah, apparently black men don’t have a lot of problems with potency”) and another passage where Black people are described as “poor colored folk” who “make do with lugging along some home-cooked fried chicken.”
To my fellow Asian Americans… we really have to do better than this. Not to center my feelings, though I’ll just say it’s frankly embarrassing to me that this book exists.
To top it all off, I found Ozeki’s portrayal of her Japanese characters as one-dimensional and stereotypical. Her Asian American protagonist Jane comes across as more three-dimensional and “progressive,” whereas her Japanese female protagonist Akiko is portrayed as submissive and passive *until* she makes contact with Jane. Idk what else to say to you all about this novel. Fingers crossed for much better reads moving forward....more
I read this for my Boston Asian book club and enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would?? In my circles Simu Liu has a reputation for being a bit oI read this for my Boston Asian book club and enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would?? In my circles Simu Liu has a reputation for being a bit of a himbo so I wasn’t sure how I’d react to this memoir. However, I found it a well-written, down-to-earth portrayal of his parents’ immigration from China to Canada as well as his childhood upbringing and his subsequent foray into business and then acting. As the child of Vietnamese immigrants myself, I liked reading about Simu’s parents’ journey and Simu’s raw honesty about the difficult and abusive parts of his childhood. I also felt quite entertained learning about his time working at Deloitte and all the effort he put into developing his acting career. One thing I appreciated in particular is his ability to name when and where he messed up in his life, to face those mistakes instead of covering them up.
The main thing I wanted more of was additional reflection on his dynamic with his parents later on in his life. He wrote with candor about what they went through as immigrants as well as their abusive behavior toward him, though I think how he processed those events later in his life felt glossed over. I know in September 2022 he tweeted about going to therapy (not sure if that’s when he first started) so I wonder if there will be even more self-insight into that part of his life later on, whether he wants to share about it publicly or not....more
I read this book because my Boston Asian book club chose it for our February read. It was cute in a way! I felt like I did learn some interesting tidbI read this book because my Boston Asian book club chose it for our February read. It was cute in a way! I felt like I did learn some interesting tidbits related to romance, like how decades ago people tended to meet their romantic partners through close geographical proximity (e.g., living in the same apartment) which has changed now with online dating. The issue of having “too many” options living in a city made sense to me too (so maybe it’s not just patriarchy’s socialization of men and white supremacy that’s made me romantically single for all of my life, but also living in predominantly urban environments?? intriguing!)
One glaring limitation of this book is the lack of discussion of amatonormativity. I find it almost laughable to write an entire book about romance without discussing heteronormativity and amatonormativity and how they shape the prevalence of romance and the wedding industrial complex in our society. Aziz Ansari kind of almost barely touches on this through mentioning that women’s increased economic power made it so they didn’t have to marry men to access financial security.
I also found a couple of small statements in the book… annoying in a mosquito bite-y sort of way. For example, Ansari makes a joke about having an “Indian stalker” and I was kind of eye-rolling about the stalker being Indian, like why do you have to implicate your own race (and it made me think of this broader criticism of Ansari and his lifting up of white women over women of color). And in another section of the book he implies that a man he meets isn’t a “stud” because he’s on the shorter side. Yawn! Where are our critical thinking hats in regard to desirability and gender norms??
I wouldn’t recommend this book though at least the writing was accessible and easy to read. I’m going to be taking notes *for sure* at my next book club meeting especially if anyone actually liked the book lol o_o If anyone is interested, I also write about amatonormativity on my blog....more
I appreciated Jonny Sun’s openness about his emotions and thoughts and how he mentioned going to therapy in this essay collection. Other than that thoI appreciated Jonny Sun’s openness about his emotions and thoughts and how he mentioned going to therapy in this essay collection. Other than that though I found myself pretty disappointed reading this book. First, I felt that the book contained a lot of half-baked musings that could have benefited from further development. For example, in one section Sun writes about how he uses work to cope with his anxiety and negative emotions. However, he doesn’t elaborate beyond that – so are you motivated to change that? If you’re not motivated to change that that’s fine, though what’s that about? Where in your life or in society broadly did you internalize these messages about work and what do you want to put out into the world about work? This deeper reflection felt missing to me.
I also found a lot of the essays very tell and not show. He writes broad sentiments about family, nostalgia, belonging, etc. yet does not use specific details from his life to make his writing more poignant or powerful. At points I felt like the underlying writing mechanism was like, “let me make this as vague and non-specific as possible so that as many people as possible can find it relatable” when in reality I think utilizing more descriptive content from his life, if possible, would’ve strengthened every essay.
So I kind of detested this book when I first finished it, then I went to my Boston Asian book club and liked it a little more. I can see how Katie KitSo I kind of detested this book when I first finished it, then I went to my Boston Asian book club and liked it a little more. I can see how Katie Kitamura writes about her protagonist’s difficulty with intimacy and asserting herself in professional and personal spaces. The unnamed protagonist’s job as an interpreter dovetailed interestingly with her desire to observe others and fade into the background.
Unfortunately I found several other elements of the book lacking. First, I didn’t understand why the protagonist had such an intense desire for the white male love interest Adriaan. Like, I get that he’s privileged and wealthy and that might afford a sense of stability, but I wish Kitamura interrogated that desire or relationship as opposed to filling the novel with cliché phrases about longing. The opaquer writing style made it hard for me to feel invested in Intimacies. Finally, I wanted more growth from the protagonist on her journey; the book felt stagnant to me even though the main character perhaps made minor changes in her life.
This novel follows seventeen-year-old Lily Hu, a young Chinese American teenager coming to terms with her queerness in 1954 San Francisco. I liked howThis novel follows seventeen-year-old Lily Hu, a young Chinese American teenager coming to terms with her queerness in 1954 San Francisco. I liked how Malinda Lo wrote about the racism Lily experienced in her newfound, predominantly white queer community, as well as the homophobia she faced from her Chinese family and friends. Lily’s coming to terms with her queerness – the fear, the longing, the search for understanding and connection – all felt real and honest. Lo incorporates some interesting scenes pertaining to xenophobia and anti-communism that help ground the novel in its time period and add nuance to Lily’s experience as well as those of her family.
My main disappointment from this novel comes from how I felt the Chinese American characters came across as underdeveloped. For example, Lo includes a riveting flashback scene from the perspective of Lily’s mom, Grace, though she never revisits that and by the end of the book Grace and Lily’s relationship feels underdeveloped and unfinished. Similarly, Lo drops hints that Lily’s best friend, Shirley, has some nuanced family conflict and a potentially intriguing romantic relationship, though those elements of Shirley’s character never come to fruition. It felt like Lo focused on Lily’s relationship with her white love interest Kath, which is whatever, though I wish that focus did not come at the expense of other elements of Lily’s life. Also, I feel like white queer love interests are overrepresented in queer literature, so I hope that future books can include romances and friendships between queer people of color....more
I thought this graphic novel was cute! I liked the affirming though not simplistic themes of communication across culture and language barriers in famI thought this graphic novel was cute! I liked the affirming though not simplistic themes of communication across culture and language barriers in families, queerness, and the use of narratives and fairytales to process big feelings. I most appreciate how Trung Le Nguyen avoided the stereotype of Asian American parents as intrinsically homophobic or socially conservative. I wanted more substance from the story itself, like a richer or more textured plot and character development, though I respect what Nguyen pulled off. Reading this made me nostalgic for my perhaps favorite young adult graphic novel, the super queer and friendship-oriented Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki, as well as for one of my first favorite gay young adult novels Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (which I read and reviewed over a decade ago now, wow)!...more
This book had an interesting premise and message though the characters left me wanting more. In An Excess Male, Maggie Shen King envisions a China wheThis book had an interesting premise and message though the characters left me wanting more. In An Excess Male, Maggie Shen King envisions a China where due to the One Child Policy, near 40 million men struggle to find wives and women can take multiple husbands. We follow one family where Hann, a gay man, and XX, his disabled brother, are both married to May-ling, who wants to take a third husband, Wei-guo. We follow the fallout that ensues when various members of this arrangement try to resist the oppression enforced upon them by their dictatorial government.
I will start by saying I liked the messages about the heteronormative nuclear family and the pressures related to childbearing in this novel. Are we useful if we aren’t contributing to a nuclear family in some form? Shen King interrogates this question well and explores the consequences of straying from what society expects of us.
That said, I found the characters pretty weakly-drawn in this novel. I felt like they each experienced some form of marginalization, though beyond that lacked richer nuance or depth. An Excess Male also contains an action side plot where I read it and was like… I don’t understand what the point of this is. Also, why was one of the more femme/ostentatious gay men one of the most villainous characters?? Still, I’m looking forward to discussing this book with my Asian American book club....more