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Fiction. Literature. HTML:A NEW YORK TIMES EDITORSâ?? CHOICE SELECTION * A MALALA BOOK CLUB PICK * AN INDIE NEXT PICK * A FAVORITE BOOK OF 2022 BY NPR AND BOOK RIOT * A MUST-READ MARCH 2022 BOOK BY TIME, VANITY FAIR, EW AND THE CHICAGO REVIEW OF BOOKS * A MOST ANTICIPATED BOOK OF 2022 BY GOODREADS, NYLON, BUZZFEED AND MORE A Taiwanese American womanâ??s coming-of-consciousness ignites eye-opening revelations and chaos on a college campus in this outrageously hilarious and startlingly tender debut novel. Twenty-nine-year-old PhD student Ingrid Yang is desperate to finish her dissertation on the late canonical poet Xiao-Wen Chou and never read about â??Chinese-yâ?ť things again. But after years of grueling research, all she has to show for her efforts are junk food addiction and stomach pain. When she accidentally stumbles upon a curious note in the Chou archives one afternoon, she convinces herself itâ??s her ticket out of academic hell. But Ingridâ??s in much deeper than she thinks. Her clumsy exploits to unravel the noteâ??s message lead to an explosive discovery, upending not only her sheltered life within academia but her entire world beyond it. With her trusty friend Eunice Kim by her side and her rival Vivian Vo hot on her tail, together they set off a roller coaster of mishaps and misadventures, from book burnings and OTC drug hallucinations, to hot-button protests and Yellow Peril 2.0 propaganda. In the aftermath, nothing looks the same to Ingridâ??including her gentle and doting fiancĂ©, Stephen Greene. When he embarks on a book tour with the super kawaii Japanese author heâ??s translated, doubts and insecurities creep in for the first timeâ?¦ As the events Ingrid instigated keep spiraling, sheâ??ll have to confront her sticky relationship to white men and white institutionsâ??and, most of all, herself. For readers of Paul Beattyâ??s The Sellout and Charles Yuâ??s Interior Chinatown, this uproarious and bighearted satire is a blistering send-up of privilege and power in America, and a profound reckoning of individual complicity and unspoken rage. In this electrifying debut novel from a provocative new voice, Elaine Hsieh Chou asks who gets to tell our storiesâ??and how the s… (more)
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At times funny, at times serious, this campus novel captures the desperation of the young scholar writing an interminable dissertation. But Ingrid’s discovery is about to blow the roof off of both her field of study and her institution. She’s a bit conflicted about that, but given her myriad other internal conflicts surrounding race, sex, family, and, y’know stuff, it’s just part of the package.
There are set pieces here that are very funny and well-constructed even if the overall arc of the story feels contrived. There is a variability in tone and subject matter that makes the writing seem uneven. As though the novel has been written over a very long period with the input of too many readers perhaps. Or maybe it’s just that Chou simply has too much to say. Certainly she seems to have thought long and hard about racial identity in America. You could well imagine her writing a very different novel on the same themes.
And maybe it’s just me, but the central characters — Ingrid and her best friend Eunice — seem more like adolescents, both emotionally and in where their interests lie outside of the university, and also in some of their actions. Or maybe I’m just old now and young people in their late twenties are really like this.
In any case, there were certainly parts of this novel that I enjoyed and other parts that hit (almost too) close to home. I look forward to whatever Chou ends up writing next.
Gently recommended.
The action is centered on an 8th year PhD Asian Studies student named Ingrid Chou. For those not familiar with the doctoral world, the 8th year is generally your defend or die year because it is the year most funding stops. Ingrid has been hustled into East Asian Studies by the white Department Chair Michael Bartholomew, largely because she is an Asian Female, but also because the school's lit program has been largely defunded and now there are few tenure track jobs for those who go down that path. Ingrid's money is contingent on researching an Asian American poet, known as the "Asian Robert Frost", which poet attended the decent but undistinguished Barnes University. Ingrid is uninspired, obsessed with simply getting her 250 pages done and marrying her (gross) white Asiaphile boyfriend. Then she discovers something shocking which upends her dissertation and her life path. I won't say anymore, but it is crazypants and fun, and it gives Chou a lot of room to play with white supremacy, misogyny, and the academic canon.
So why an enthusiastic 4 rather than a 5-star review. Well, the problem is Ingrid. She is crafted as so naïve she is impossible to believe. Though the story tells us she was popular in her all-white affluent high school (in part because she does whatever the Asian equivalent of shucking and jiving is called) and she is addicted to a reality tv show most of the time she is written like she just landed from a life lived in Antarctica. Despite having spent 12 years on a college campus she knows nothing of pop culture, speech codes, fights against institutionalized racism, or the basic rules of human engagement. I am all for exaggeration in the name of satire, but inconsistency kills the vibe. This was a much bigger issue in the first half of the book than in the second, but it is a significant problem. It is perhaps most discordant in the portion where Ingrid comes to see her fiancée more clearly. It is impossible a person would not have already known everything she "discovers" about her man. There are also some less troublesome missteps on academic politics -- trust me when I tell you that department chairs and program directors do not have a tenth of the power she imbues them with here.
Overall a wonderful book highly recommended.
I admired a lot about this book. I liked the absurdness of it, I thought the author really did an interesting job of working through such a tough subject - a lot of it was very eye opening to me.
What I found hard was the frenetic tone that never
I am good with suspending my disbelief - and I know that was what was being asked of me at certain points in this book - but what got me is when I felt like there was plot progression that just didn't make sense - even in the jumbled world that this was all taking place in.
I was often left sort of shrugging about how we got from point A to point B. I know that isn't the point of this book - but for me it really interrupted the experience.
Still though, I appreciate this book for making me think about a lot of things I haven't thought about before.
Ingrid Yang has always worked hard. Currently, she's stalled out on her dissertation, mainly because the subject matter, the famous Chinese-American poet Xiao-Wen Chou, isn't a subject that interests her, but is the subject that puts her in the running for a tenure-track job after she graduates. An accidental discovery sends her on a wild investigation, helped by her best friend Eunice Kim, that leads her to a startling discovery about the poet and into the middle of campus politics.
By all accounts, Stephen Greene was plain. He had a plain, thin face and plain brown hair. He wore plain glasses and preferred plain clothes paired with plain, unpatterned socks. He had the face of an unremarkable passerby or, when he stood in shadowy lighting, of someone on the sex offender registry.
Ingrid is a wonderful character and this novel is a lot of fun, even if it is sometimes heavy-handed in its parody of campus politics, especially as the rotate around the subjects of race and gender. Ingrid has always kept her head down and worked hard and now that she's faced with the destruction of all her years of study, she's determined to do the right thing, if only she can figure out what that is. I do love campus novels and this one has reinforced my love of them.
This is a satire about academia, and it keeps getting more and more bizarre and contrived. Somehow I think the author didn't quite get the tone right: the tone was a little too serious for some of the extreme hijinks that happen: maybe if the prose had been more playful, the book would have felt more coherent.