Take a photo of a barcode or cover
2.01k reviews by:
ninetalevixen
3.5 stars
On some level, I will never understand what it means or how it feels to be Black. That creates some emotional distance between me and works like this one, but I can say that Coates' writing is intense and insightful, thought-provoking, deliberately heartbreaking. It celebrates the triumphs and laments the suffering he has experienced, that he anticipates his son will experience; it offers the reader some insight towards empathy.
On some level, I will never understand what it means or how it feels to be Black. That creates some emotional distance between me and works like this one, but I can say that Coates' writing is intense and insightful, thought-provoking, deliberately heartbreaking. It celebrates the triumphs and laments the suffering he has experienced, that he anticipates his son will experience; it offers the reader some insight towards empathy.
I've made quite a few yarn dolls based on a scene in this book, so it's more than safe to say that this is one that influenced and stuck with me.
Buddy read with Sierra! ❤
The premise is interesting and has definite potential for development over the course of the series; I particularly loved that (some of) the Mean Girls^TM got character depth and development as well as some backstory, though I'm getting pretty tired of the Othering of Romani (G*psy) and Asian Indian people. (Hopefully this improves in later books, though I'm not holding my breath.) Gemma Doyle herself is actually kind of annoying, and she makes a lot of dumb decisions — though from a "realistic teenage girl" perspective, they're understandable if extremely frustrating, especially when you see her dramatic reactions to the inevitable consequences of her actions.
And the romantic subplot (specifically Gemma's, because Felicity's was at least interesting) was honestly unnecessary and felt like it came out of nowhere. I had a bit of a boy-crazy phase myself so I get it, I do, but that doesn't make it any less cringeworthy, particularly the way it's filtered through the societal values of the time period.
Still, the all-girls boarding school (finishing school) setting is fun, if not unique, and this was an entertaining enough read. I'm not super eager to read the next book, but I do plan on picking it up eventually.
The premise is interesting and has definite potential for development over the course of the series; I particularly loved that (some of) the Mean Girls^TM got character depth and development as well as some backstory, though I'm getting pretty tired of the Othering of Romani (G*psy) and Asian Indian people. (Hopefully this improves in later books, though I'm not holding my breath.) Gemma Doyle herself is actually kind of annoying, and she makes a lot of dumb decisions — though from a "realistic teenage girl" perspective, they're understandable if extremely frustrating, especially when you see her dramatic reactions to the inevitable consequences of her actions.
And the romantic subplot (specifically Gemma's, because Felicity's was at least interesting) was honestly unnecessary and felt like it came out of nowhere. I had a bit of a boy-crazy phase myself so I get it, I do, but that doesn't make it any less cringeworthy, particularly the way it's filtered through the societal values of the time period.
Still, the all-girls boarding school (finishing school) setting is fun, if not unique, and this was an entertaining enough read. I'm not super eager to read the next book, but I do plan on picking it up eventually.
3.5 stars, I guess.
Fairly well-written, with relatable characters and evocative plot developments. Lots of clichés and archetypes, though (including the solution to the mystery — definitely saw most of that one coming, if not in its entirety) and I personally didn't think the book should have ended on the scene that it did.
Fairly well-written, with relatable characters and evocative plot developments. Lots of clichés and archetypes, though (including the solution to the mystery — definitely saw most of that one coming, if not in its entirety) and I personally didn't think the book should have ended on the scene that it did.
I received a review copy of this book through Edelweiss. This does not affect my rating or opinions.
3.5 stars.
This is the good #ownvoices content I've been looking for. As Joan He discussed on Twitter, there's a level beyond the details that authors outside a culture can't really capture: in brief, the way the characters think and see the world. Hoang continues to exemplify authentic, personal rep, and it made me so happy to see sensitivity readers listed in the acknowledgments for this book — everyone's experience is different, so it can be a really helpful process even for ownvoices authors.
The dual POV, split between Khai and Esme, brings both dimension and delicious tension to the narrative. They're privileged in different ways (Khai socioeconomically, Esme being neurotypical) so there are moments that made me cringe but which also rang so true to life, especially since there is forgiveness and growth and acceptance and trust and respect, all of which are crucial in healthy interpersonal relationships (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.). And in addition to complementing each other really well, our protagonists have individual arcs that make it so easy to root for them to make it.
3.5 stars.
This is the good #ownvoices content I've been looking for. As Joan He discussed on Twitter, there's a level beyond the details that authors outside a culture can't really capture: in brief, the way the characters think and see the world. Hoang continues to exemplify authentic, personal rep, and it made me so happy to see sensitivity readers listed in the acknowledgments for this book — everyone's experience is different, so it can be a really helpful process even for ownvoices authors.
The dual POV, split between Khai and Esme, brings both dimension and delicious tension to the narrative. They're privileged in different ways (Khai socioeconomically, Esme being neurotypical) so there are moments that made me cringe but which also rang so true to life, especially since there is forgiveness and growth and acceptance and trust and respect, all of which are crucial in healthy interpersonal relationships (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.). And in addition to complementing each other really well, our protagonists have individual arcs that make it so easy to root for them to make it.
Marie Lu really knows how to build a world, but I found these characters lacking — despite attempts to make them morally gray, the antagonists instead flip-flopped between evil and humanly flawed/redeemable, which was frustrating. (I genuinely forgot Taylor’s alleged ulterior motive/backstory at several points and thought she just wanted money/power.) Emika takes no initiative in the narrative, just sits around waiting for someone else to give her information and/or direction — then she calls in the Phoenix Riders and/or Jax to help — and doesn’t seem to have much personality besides. Her relationship with Hideo reaches soap-opera levels in this book (“I’ll take him out if I absolutely have to, for the good of the world ... but I know he can be saved”) and still falls flat, even during that scene. Zero’s entire storyline is predictable and overdramatic, which is disappointing because his situation is philosophically and technologically fascinating. And the ending was unsatisfying in that it was too neat, everything falling perfectly into place.
None of this is to say that this book is bad, it’s just aggressively mainstream.
None of this is to say that this book is bad, it’s just aggressively mainstream.
(Won through a Goodreads giveaway! Thank you to William Morrow for sending me a free ARC.)
3.5 stars.
The Crazy Rich Asians comparisons are inevitable, but despite surface similarities (Asian characters and culture, some discussion of class and business, family in-fighting over money and pride; in this case, an upper middle-class Silicon Valley family with a dying patriarch) it’s a very different kind of story. Unlike CRA, Family Trust (a fitting and clever play on words, including both the explicit and implicit themes that lay within - both the financial and the emotional) is as much about interpersonal relationships as it is individual struggles, its cultural values (filial duty, frugality, etc) not in-your-face but still very much present. It also touches on other, more Western topics, particularly through Fred’s and Kate’s eyes — #MeToo (though not in those words), millenial culture in general, diversity quotas, bro culture, various models of family and of romantic relationships, racial discrimination in dating, ambition, creativity and intellectual property — which gives it an Asian-American perspective that I liked.
The book seemed equally plot- and character-driven, which left me feeling a little lukewarm. To be quite honest, I sympathized with but couldn’t really relate to any of the characters, even though the locations mentioned and several of the situations are quite familiar: San Jose, Kaiser Permanente, Asian (grand)mother network, just to name a few. (Points for the super strong sense of setting, though! Each familiar name is like a friendly little smile and wave from home.)
As a Taiwanese-American girl who grew up in the Silicon Valley/SF Bay Area, I was definitely super excited to read this book, and I wasn’t disappointed.
3.5 stars.
The Crazy Rich Asians comparisons are inevitable, but despite surface similarities (Asian characters and culture, some discussion of class and business, family in-fighting over money and pride; in this case, an upper middle-class Silicon Valley family with a dying patriarch) it’s a very different kind of story. Unlike CRA, Family Trust (a fitting and clever play on words, including both the explicit and implicit themes that lay within - both the financial and the emotional) is as much about interpersonal relationships as it is individual struggles, its cultural values (filial duty, frugality, etc) not in-your-face but still very much present. It also touches on other, more Western topics, particularly through Fred’s and Kate’s eyes — #MeToo (though not in those words), millenial culture in general, diversity quotas, bro culture, various models of family and of romantic relationships, racial discrimination in dating, ambition, creativity and intellectual property — which gives it an Asian-American perspective that I liked.
The book seemed equally plot- and character-driven, which left me feeling a little lukewarm. To be quite honest, I sympathized with but couldn’t really relate to any of the characters, even though the locations mentioned and several of the situations are quite familiar: San Jose, Kaiser Permanente, Asian (grand)mother network, just to name a few. (Points for the super strong sense of setting, though! Each familiar name is like a friendly little smile and wave from home.)
As a Taiwanese-American girl who grew up in the Silicon Valley/SF Bay Area, I was definitely super excited to read this book, and I wasn’t disappointed.
content warnings:
rep:
Honestly, my main impression is that this is really tropey, bordering on cliched. Basically every aspect of the plot is predictable, so it's a comfortable read if that's what you're looking for. Me, I was on the fence about DNF'ing until well over halfway.
I am very familiar with the feeling of being "not ___ enough" whether you're in America or your parents' home country, so I always appreciate seeing it represented in books. But in this case I wished it had been incorporated with a little more subtlety and perhaps not brought up at such frequent but seemingly random intervals, especially since it didn't seem to be a main focus of the plot or characters. (It's one aspect of their identities and a point of commonality, but not central to the narrative.)
As much as I sympathized with Lucky, I just couldn't get behind Jack's reasoning — especially the fact that. So despite the sparks between them, the budding relationship makes me uncomfortable.
It's a little better by the end since. And the ending feels a little too neat and too easy after everything that happens. Heartwarming, though.
So overall, this is a cutesy-ish modern teen romance, but I don't know that I would recommend it except maybe to pepople who really, really like K-pop.
-----------
CONVERSION: 8.13 / 15 = 3 stars
Prose: 5 / 10
Characters & Relationships: 6 / 10
Emotional Impact: 5 / 10
Development / Flow: 6 / 10
Setting: 7 / 10
Diversity & Social Themes: 3 / 5
Intellectual Engagement: N/A
Originality / Trope Execution: 2 / 5
Rereadability: N/A
Memorability: 2 / 5
Spoiler
relationship built on false pretenses/dishonestyrep:
Spoiler
Korean-American MC/LI with anxiety [Lucky], Korean-American MC/LI [Jack], Korean immigrant minor characters [parents], Asian supporting cast, Hong Kong settingHonestly, my main impression is that this is really tropey, bordering on cliched. Basically every aspect of the plot is predictable, so it's a comfortable read if that's what you're looking for. Me, I was on the fence about DNF'ing until well over halfway.
I am very familiar with the feeling of being "not ___ enough" whether you're in America or your parents' home country, so I always appreciate seeing it represented in books. But in this case I wished it had been incorporated with a little more subtlety and perhaps not brought up at such frequent but seemingly random intervals, especially since it didn't seem to be a main focus of the plot or characters. (It's one aspect of their identities and a point of commonality, but not central to the narrative.)
As much as I sympathized with Lucky, I just couldn't get behind Jack's reasoning — especially the fact that
Spoiler
he never seems to change his viewpoint beyond "Lucky is not like other celebrities who give up their right to privacy in exchange for fame" and "tabloid reporting is beneath me and a waste of my photography skills"It's a little better by the end since
Spoiler
a year passes in which they presumably experience individual growth, though I'm not sure that in the grand scheme of things a year would be "enough" time to reach the point they're at by the epilogueSo overall, this is a cutesy-ish modern teen romance, but I don't know that I would recommend it except maybe to pepople who really, really like K-pop.
-----------
CONVERSION: 8.13 / 15 = 3 stars
Prose: 5 / 10
Characters & Relationships: 6 / 10
Emotional Impact: 5 / 10
Development / Flow: 6 / 10
Setting: 7 / 10
Diversity & Social Themes: 3 / 5
Intellectual Engagement: N/A
Originality / Trope Execution: 2 / 5
Rereadability: N/A
Memorability: 2 / 5
3.25 stars.
(Won through a Goodreads giveaway! Thank you to FSG books for sending me a free copy.)
The premise is interesting, somewhere between pandemic and zombie apocalypse, kind of The Girl Who Owned a City meets [certain episodes of] The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s a completely new version of the Asian immigrant story, too, with recognizable moments mixed in with the uncertainty of the post-fever world. I enjoyed observing Candace’s journey, both physical/external and emotional/internal, though the climax and part of the falling action was slightly unsatisfactory for some reason I can’t quite identify.
Honestly, I’m not completely sold on some of the author’s choices, specifically the omission of quotation marks (I kind of like how they make memories blend into one uniform mass, but I think present-day narrative should have them to differentiate it); the intertwined timelines, which seem somewhat arbitrary; and some of the especially overt social commentary. Overall it’s an enjoyable read, though, and definitely different from most of what’s on the current literary market.
(Won through a Goodreads giveaway! Thank you to FSG books for sending me a free copy.)
The premise is interesting, somewhere between pandemic and zombie apocalypse, kind of The Girl Who Owned a City meets [certain episodes of] The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s a completely new version of the Asian immigrant story, too, with recognizable moments mixed in with the uncertainty of the post-fever world. I enjoyed observing Candace’s journey, both physical/external and emotional/internal, though the climax and part of the falling action was slightly unsatisfactory for some reason I can’t quite identify.
Honestly, I’m not completely sold on some of the author’s choices, specifically the omission of quotation marks (I kind of like how they make memories blend into one uniform mass, but I think present-day narrative should have them to differentiate it); the intertwined timelines, which seem somewhat arbitrary; and some of the especially overt social commentary. Overall it’s an enjoyable read, though, and definitely different from most of what’s on the current literary market.