I think this collection would have worked better as a memoir, focusing on Park Hong’s evolving relationship with her own identity and roots. Because that is what shone best in her writing — her articulation of her personal “reckonings”, as unvarnished as they were, capturing a rare, unflinching honesty about tricky and underaddressed topics in the Asian-American canon. However, I found that the essays often lacked sufficient grounding in their (selective) references of ongoing scholarly work and research, which often ended up feeling half-baked and unrigorous. A corollary of this was that the notion of a singular “Asian-American experience” did not seem well-interrogated in itself, without giving treatment to the many other histories and realities within the Asian-American communities beyond Park Hong’s own. I can appreciate the intended concept and ambition of the book, but just wish it was further refined to focus on her personal storytelling rather than stretching it to be some sort of social justice thinkpiece, which then unfortunately left both objectives underdone.

Make no mistake — this novel’s absolute chaos of a plot and ensemble of larger-than-life characters are merely the backdrop for Backman’s astonishingly astute reflections on the fallibilities that make us human: on how to love and to grieve, on making mistakes and learning to be kind (including to ourselves), on the radicalism of empathy, and on the courage of starting over. Every character is layered in their own right, with their own fears and anxieties, and the connections between them woven beautifully. I think that hope is a surprisingly complex emotion to write without falling into overly sappy sunshine and rainbows, but Backman has treated it with incredible care and nuance, which makes reading this story feel like a deep, quiet exhale.

Keiko is a curious character study: of someone who has found what gives her life meaning (in the convenience store) but never quite understands the societal expectations that demean her fixations, life choices, and inability to be ‘normal’. Her story is a sharp critique of how we as a society are rarely forgiving to those who remain outside the unspoken contract of social cues and behaviour, even if not of their own volition. Keiko is content with her place in this world, yet her outlook is completely invalidated and dismissed including by those who are supposed to be closest to her, to the extent that they would rather she literally marry an incel than just… exist as she is. More than anything, I found that incredibly sad.