Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner
This was the pick for AANHPI heritage month at my work’s book club (still so excited that I can say “work’s book club” lol). It’s already gotten a lot of buzz from the press, and everyone already knows that it’s dealing with Zauner’s mother’s death from cancer, so I don’t think there’s anything to spoil, but putting my thoughts behind a cut anyway.
Like everyone said, it’s a very quick and accessible read. I wouldn’t call it “easy,” because it’s actually very devastating and Zauner doesn’t pull any punches in describing the worst parts of caring for her mother as she’s deteriorating from cancer and her grief, regrets, and desperate yearning for her deceased mother is raw and relatable. The prose is easily accessible, and she’ll spend pages just listing different types of foods like a souped up grocery list, so if you like reading about food, and Korean food especially, there will be a lot to bring you in.
One thing I was very struck by was how similar our experiences have been despite our different backgrounds. I am not mixed race and grew up in the suburbs of a big city in California (whereas she’s half Korean and grew up in the rural areas of Oregon. So with all these variables in the wild, the universe still somehow created enough commonalities that I could see my childhood in hers: I have a lot of the same experiences (especially with the food, which, again, she spends a lot of time touching on) both growing up with immigrant parents and spending extended periods in Korea during my youth. The silver delivery box for Chinese food must’ve been an indelible part of growing up in Korea, at least prior to the 2000s, and thanks to Zauner, I finally understand the rules of hwatu, which I remember watching the elders play as a quiet, confused kid watching by the sidelines, fascinated by the beautiful designs though no one bothered explaining the rules.
Obviously there’s differences in our respective stories. She seems desperate to connect to her “Koreanness” for a lot of the memoir as a way to connect to her mother. Perhaps it’s because she’s half, or perhaps it’s just a result of the natural divide from being born a generation after, of never having experienced her mother as a person who was separate and apart from being put on this earth as her mother. I think her fixation on food reads as this attempt to get her closer to the culture, but if the end was to understand her mother better, it’s directing her efforts in the wrong direction. It almost felt like she should’ve spent more time learning about her mother from her aunts, her grandparents, the few friends her mother had who came through the house while her mother was ailing. Through the cultural lens perspective, it was almost like looking at my culture, which makes up part of my identity for better or for worse, as a kind of commodity that I could absorb by eating enough kimchi.
That being said, this is a memoir, and it’s specifically a memoir about her grieving process, which is a personal journey, and an inherently selfish one. So it’s probably ungenerous to feel that way as I was reading it. It was ultimately a raw, emotional tribute to her mother that should nonetheless be celebrated for its evocative writing.
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Happy AAPI month! The queer community historically has been very weird and fetishistic towards Asian people and they should stop that please. You are not immune to Asian fetishization just because you’re not a cishet white guy.
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Finished Babél by RF Kuang last week and reflecting on it. What did ppl think of it? I found the writing very heavy handed and didactic but I can see why it is a hit w the intended (?) audience (highly educated white people who haven’t yet discovered that colonialism is a bad thing or a thing at all 🥴) I can also see that this is a topic RFK herself is really grappling with like right immediately now as she is writing it lol. The world building and character archetypes are kind of simplistic but it serves the above mission of dictating an anti-colonialism 101.
I liked the character relationship between Robin and Rami 👍 will be giving my copy to the neighborhood children via the community lending library, I think they could enjoy it.
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Looking for books to celebrate Asian Pacific American Heritage Month?
Check out the display in our Children’s Room!
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not saying i want one but why has there been no overly-pensive semi-autobiographical new yorker op-eds mediating on the heightened visibility of wider audiences’ resonance with evelyn and joy’s portrayal of adhd/depression and the fracturing of asian american social existence in post-covid usa capitalism......... and ofc the way these v specific on-screen anxieties (and revelations) drawn from postcolonial diasporic lived experiences/histories have been subsumed into genericized philosophy bro-esque platitudes abt universal existentialism/nihilism like the opening is right there omfg
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"It was as if there were cycles that repeated themselves over and over, but most people never saw the repitition; they were too deeply enmeshed in their own path to see. [...] Did that mean that she had always been destined to come here, to this city in this land so far from her home? She slid her hand into her pocket to feel the mussel shell, which she had picked up out of some kind of vague superstition. If the ocean had tossed it back to them, that must mean they should take it. All these signs, she thought, pointed to this moment, and then this one, over and over again."
- Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo
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