The characters in this novel (save one) come across as immature and inexperienced ingrates, full of the kind of half-informed bitterness that rends communities, and uneducated about the sacrifices their parents and grandparents have made to give them a life of increased opportunities and options.

I think, after finishing the novel, and being somewhat appeased by the conclusion, that highlighting this ‘entitled’ attitude is partly the point—the antithesis to a climactic moral. But the brief flash of conversation permitted with one of these fathers, right at the tail end of the non-heisty heist novel (cos this sells as a heist, but then we get very little heisting going on), is all we get of the ‘other side’ of the argument. I wanted to hear so much more from the father as he had wise words for his son. But his short speech was just not enough to balance the voices of complaint, the misinformed grousing, the blind ‘grass is greener’ ranting of this group of young adults who have no clue what it is to truly make life-sacrifices, what it is to truly suffer as their parents and grandparents have done coming from China to America to give them a life with opportunities.

The most glaring opportunity, of course, is life itself. In the novel, three of the characters are daughters. There are complaints about their plight in the family hierarchy, disgruntled mumblings of comparison with an older brother, feelings of upset by the pressures of financial strain of younger siblings. Two of these daughters begin a relationship with each other. I mean, sure, all of this seems normal to a young adult raised in the West; no big deal in America, right? But then one of these young women even goes so far as to say she wished she’d been born and raised in China, cos she feels she’s been denied her own heritage. I mean, I can understand the sentiment to a degree. But… Well… likely none of these women would even exist (I know they don’t anyway, they’re fictional characters, but for the sake of the argument being presented) had they been conceived/born in China—having all been born between 1984-2016 during which the one child policy was in place and monitored in the nation—families preferring sons over daughters, often terminating early the female embryo, sometimes putting baby girls ‘out for adoption’ or simply discarding them. That is reality. But the way these three (especially Irene) talk, you’d think China was her saviour and America had been the worst decision her parents could have ever made (her poor parents). Irene, with a Duke University education, the option to choose her lifestyle and relationship preferences, and with abounding opportunities for her future career… they’re just uninformed and this sort of narrative strips validity from the real problematic issue that should be the highlight of the story: the mistreatment and maligning of Asians in America. That, of course, is the real problem—one that the author briefly addresses, but unfortunately compares like-for-like with the plight of Blacks in America, and while there are some similarities, it’s not at all the same thing. Who am I to say this? No one I suppose, but there is a problem, and it’s a multilayered issue of racism that needs attention in all its intersectional streams of discrimination. Unfortunately, the sense here in this novel is that this massive spiderweb issue is divided simply into two halves, reduced to something ‘black and white’ which does no justice for anyone involved.

As for the “imperialism” discussion presented, there is legitimacy in the accusations against France, Britain, and even the USA, but there is zero mention of the imperialist acts of China across Asia (and beyond) which were (in some cases are) equally as harrowing. In fact, China is painted as an innocent victim on these pages. Um... One might wonder what certain current residents of Hong Kong and Taiwan might say to these entitled second-generation American-born sentiments. But the stones only fly in one direction in this novel, and China comes out shiningly innocent. No matter how we need to take a harder look at history (and she’s right, we do need to take a longer look, a reconciliatory trip down all these historical avenues—a very important topic), the idea that China has bloodless hands and is bathed in an angelic robe is still fantasy. Yes. I know, this is fiction. It’s just not coming off as fiction —except when it comes to presenting China as the hard-done-by innocent never-imperialist nation of the modern world.

We get some democratic resolution at the end, and there was a certain sort of pleasant surprise (more realistic I suppose) in that, but I would have really loved more heist action, and then some real “stick it to them” retribution with these heists getting pulled off and artefacts restored and returned to original owners and nations.

That’s just not this novel.

That said, the characters are the absolute highlight of the novel. They are complex, despite being so often naively shallow, and they dare to dream, discover, drive to the edge and even jump—cautiously, mind you, with a safety harness and after having intricately calculated the personal risks and social repercussions. But they are what make this novel interesting—they and their unique multidimensional struggles are what make this novel so worth reading.