I've always loved how this series doesn't shy away from being too dark, but at some point it becomes harder to empathize with the characters. Personally I felt that this one went a little too far; it makes for thrillingly horrific reading, but I find it hard to really like a story if I can't find reasons to genuinely like the cast, particularly the mains. Also, I wasn't very happy with the ending.

The Lara Jean books are among my favorite YA chick-lit (for lack of a better descriptor), for how they so relatably portray the experience of an Asian-American teenage girl who wants to be loved and in love.

This book contains that same tried-and-true formula, though with perhaps a bit too much drama (on all fronts, actually: romantic, familial, even between friends) for my liking — though I'll happily concede that the end of an era, i.e. high school, does tend to feel emotionally high-stakes. Anyway, it's sweet and nostalgic but realistic, and a perfectly timed read for me.

Look, I really really wanted to like this book. Obviously representation for Asian-Americans and WISTEM in YA and mainstream lit is very important to me. But diversity aside, the plot was propped up by tropes and clichés, from the romance to the mean/privileged populars (who weren't even that bad; honestly I thought Rishi and Dimple came off as the real jerks in at least half those confrontations). The romantic scenes were a bit over-the-top, and some of the "plot developments" felt more like drama for the sake of drama. And what I felt were the key takeaway messages were glossed over in favor of drawing out the romantic plot in a way that I didn't find appealing.

To be completely honest, I'm not sure that the diversity/representation completely offsets the other stereotypes it propogates, including the "crazy cat lady" as the worst possible destiny, the rich popular kids being uncultured and spoiled and generally dumb, and other microaggressive turns of phrase.

Halfway through this book I was thinking 3.5 stars, but bumped up for the ending. (Holy plot twists, Batman — not totally original developments, but I didn’t see them coming and I’m excited to see where this all goes.)

Emika is a classic Marie Lu heroine: badass, middle-of-the-road feminine (that is, neither “girly” nor “tomboy”), intelligent, capable, relatable. I love stories about MMO games (all my friends play LoL, and I grew up on SAO), teamwork and conspiracies and technology. The romance itself was cute, though imho the more charged scenes were a bit awkward and ultimately fell flat. The ending did feel a little rushed, the bulk of the plot development packed into a few chapters, but the progression still made for an enjoyable read.

Maybe 2.5 stars?

The characters, their motivations, and their relationships all seemed too simplistic — like a myth lacking the vivid details with which a gifted storyteller can imbue it. Mariko is admirable, but she (and most of the rest of this cast) are more archetypes than individuals, and the plot was propped up on layers of tropes. Also, I was a little annoyed that

Spoiler

the supernatural element, i.e. the animal transformations, the forest, etc.

seemed to be disregarded for most of the book after brief mentions at the start, only to be abruptly brought back in large doses as the narrative began to wrap up. I had reasonably high hopes because I adored The Wrath & The Dawn, but this book was honestly a bit of a letdown.

Maybe 2.5 stars? I’m really ambivalent about this book, so this is gonna be a long one.

First of all, of course it’s always important to give a voice to what the author calls “historical victims”: in this case, Koreans in Japan. It’s a story that doesn’t get told much, if at all; meanwhile, novels about Japanese internment and about Chinese-Americans are becoming more popular. And as a child of immigrant parents I know how important and insight-provoking the generational view can be; I usually love stories that center on a single family or small community. The changing situations and values over time are always really interesting to see, and I particularly enjoyed the culture shock (for lack of a better term) that Phoebe displays toward the end of the book. Pachinko itself was a strong and well-chosen symbol of the whole experience, the prejudice/discrimination and desperation for any way to support your family (among other complex themes).

But. The perspective seemed to jump around a lot (case in point: Haruki and Ayame might be family friends, but they don’t belong to the family and their role isn’t so critical that it needs a chapter), and I felt detached from a lot of the chapters focusing on the middle generations (I liked the early parts in Korea, and I particularly enjoyed Phoebe’s perspective because it was so different).

Part of it is that all the characters sound exactly the same; while I certainly acknowledge and appreciate how difficult it can be for an author to really “diversify” their own voice to make the characters distinct, in spite of some very different emerging viewpoints there was a sameness about the novel’s tone. Also, it felt really similar to the token-representation Asian immigrant novels I had to read in elementary/middle school (Journey to Topaz I enjoyed; Of Nightingales That Weep, not so much) — the simple syntax, slightly stilted dialogue, seemingly arbitrary deployment of Japanese and Korean terms without much context or explanation.

I also didn’t really like the focus on stereotypical femininity and women’s sexuality. Women were described through a male-gaze lens (with focus on ass and tits, to use the novel’s language) even when seen through the eyes of another woman; “it’s part of the culture” is not an excuse for the objectification and perpetration of gender roles when the author’s tone and treatment thereof show where they personally stand. All the female characters were either dutiful and demure (Kyunghee, Yumi, Ayame) or shameless temptresses/bitches (early Sunja, Hansu’s wife, Hana) — the exception being Phoebe, but it was just too little, too late.

2.5 stars.

I had just begun to think that I could tell from the opening passage how much I would enjoy a book, but in the case of The Leavers I was totally wrong. The beginning was engaging and compelling, with vivid imagery and establishment of strong interpersonal relationships.

But the timeline jumping felt abrupt and disorienting, and so much of the later storyline was uncomfortable to read. (Granted, that does seem to be the point in several scenes: good intentions mixed with poor execution, or setup for character growth.) All this doesn't make it a bad book, of course, and I can clearly see why it's so highly regarded. It just wasn't for me.

If you're interested in an #ownvoices [adopted Chinese-American] perspective on this book, check out Lili @ Utopia State of Mind's review!

content warnings:

Spoiler

racism, child abandonment, ableist language, discussions of + intended abortion, off-page death of elderly parent, likely PTSD, brief suicidal ideation, ICE raid + deportation of parent

rep:

Spoiler

interracial adoption, Chinese-American adoptee, Chinese immigrant parent, bi/pan Mexican secondary character

2.5 stars. Literally, my main reaction is “eh.”

Saying these words aloud puts me in fear that I am again getting things wrong—not that others will disagree or misread me, but that the nearer I get to what I want to say, the further I deviate from it.

To be quite frank, this felt like reading an exercise in free writing: yknow, set the timer and force yourself to keep the pen moving. Which makes for an interesting but meandering narrative.

Li expresses plenty of opinions — about writers, readers, life, suicide, morality, time, etc, etc — and funnily I disagree with almost all of her casual “universal” observations, particularly those regarding human nature, interpersonal relationships, and the reader experience. I really wish they’d been further explained, or at least connected to anecdotes or readings, but as-is I didn’t gain much insight into what could’ve been a thought-provoking assertion.

I do feel like I have a pretty good grasp of the author as a person, her beliefs and values and uncertainties (not to mention life story), as she feels about the authors whose letters and journals she’s read. But all things considered I can’t say definitively whether this book is necessarily worth all the time I spent reading it.

Reading this book really is like getting advice from a beloved and loving older sister, a genuine friend who has seen more than you and wants you to know what she’s learned the hard way. She’s a great storyteller, just as her YouTube videos show again and again, and immensely relatable as a flawed-but-trying-to-get-better human being.

(Reread for my "Intro to 21st Century Literature" class.)

3.5 stars

Given the choice, I definitely wouldn't have revisited this book. But the second/third pass and thoughtful discussions certainly increased my appreciation for the nuances, even if I'm still not totally sold on Hamid's prose or on the characters.

In a nutshell: interesting social commentary, not-so-interesting storytelling.

content warnings:

Spoiler

genocide, xenophobia, violence, minor character deaths

rep:

Spoiler

bi/pan Middle Eastern-coded MC, Middle Eastern-coded (unspecified-)devout MC, diverse minor characters

-----------
CONVERSION: 9.45 / 15 = 3.5 stars

Prose: 4 / 10
Characters & Relationships: 8 / 10
Emotional Impact: 6 / 10
Development / Flow: 4 / 10
Setting: 9 / 10

Diversity & Social Themes: 4 / 5
Intellectual Engagement: 4 / 5
Originality / Trope Execution: N/A
Rereadability: 2 / 5
Memorability: 3 / 5
-----------
[2019]
2.5 stars.

Read for Asian Lit Bingo. RTC.