4.5 stars

I’ve had Susan Meissner’s books on my TBR for quite some time, but it wasn’t until recently that I got the chance to read one of her books – and the most recent one at that! Meissner’s latest Only the Beautiful is one of those books that has so much of what I look for in a truly excellent read: a genre I love (historical fiction), a beautifully well-written and engrossing narrative, well-developed characters whom I could relate to and root for, meticulously researched elements incorporated seamlessly into the story, and a thought-provoking story arc with emotional depth that continues to stay with me long after I finish reading the book.

With all that said, I have to admit that I was a bit hesitant to pick this one up at first, mostly because of the WWII setting, as I had read too many books with this setting in recent years and felt like I needed a break – but since I had agreed to read and review this one, I of course followed through with it and am glad I did, as this turned out to be a very different story from what I expected. Rosie’s story in part 1 was truly heartbreaking and in all honesty, left me speechless, especially as I had no idea that eugenics was being practiced in the United States throughout much of the 20th century (nor did I know that there were actually laws that supported the practice). I was also shocked to find out that the state of California (where I grew up and lived my entire life) was the site of the highest number of forced sterilizations in the nation up until the 1960s. As heartbreaking as part 1 was though, Helen’s story in part 2 was even more so, especially as the parallels between what the Nazis were doing in Europe and what people in positions of power were doing in the United States became terrifyingly clear.

Reading about this history, I could not help but think about all the terrible decisions being made in our country in recent years that attempt to take away our right to choose what is best for ourselves. As Rosie and Helen both ask at various points in the story: Why do those in a position of strength get to decide what the best looks like? Why is it that only the strong get to define what weakness is? What gives those in power the right to decide who is worthy to be a mother or a father and who is not? Who gets to decide that living with a disability means that life is not worth living?

There was so much in this book that was difficult to read about, yet I would still highly recommend it as a necessary as well as illuminating read. Books like this one remind me yet again how important it is to understand the connection between history and what is happening in our world currently, as well as how these things can impact our lives in ways both profound and subtle.

As I await the next book from Meissner, I definitely need to go back and read her other books on my TBR (starting with the ones which I already have physical copies, of course). Looking forward to more wonderful reads from her backlist!

Received print edition from Berkley via Bookbrowse.

This incredible debut by Taiwanese-American lawyer Eve J. Chung doesn't come out until May 2024, but I was able to get an advance copy and boy am I glad I did. Inspired by her family's history, Chung weaves the fictional story of Li-Hai, the eldest of four daughters from the Ang family, wealthy landowners in the small rural town of Zhucheng in Shandong, China. The year is 1948 and even though World War II has officially ended, China is caught up in its own civil war between the current ruling party, the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-shek and the Communists led by Mao Zedong. In a country still steeped in the Confucian ideal of "zhong nan qing nu" ("value men, belittle women"), Hai's mother Chiang-Yue is treated worse than a servant in the Ang household due to her inability to produce a male heir (to say that Yue is "mistreated" is an understatement — in addition to suffering constant physical and verbal abuse at the hands of her mother-in-law, her husband also neglects her and never speaks up for her). In the eyes of the Ang elders, Hai and her sisters, being daughters, are considered "disappointments" and "useless mouths to feed" (their grandmother Nai Nai has no qualms about telling them to their faces that they are better off dead so the family doesn't have to waste money on them anymore) — which is why, when the Communist army invades the town and the family is forced to flee, they decide to leave mother and daughters behind. Abandoned and left to fend for themselves, Yue and her daughters become destitute and penniless after the Communists seize their home and kick them out. Worse yet, in the absence of any Ang family males, Hai, as the eldest daughter at 13 years old, is chosen to answer for her father's and grandfather's "crimes" and is subsequently tortured to near death. With the help of former workers whom Yue had always treated kindly, mother and daughters escape to the city of Qingdao, where they hoped to reunited with the rest of the family. They survive the arduous journey to Qingdao, only to find out that the family actually relocated to Taiwan (where Chiang Kai-shek re-established the Nationalist base after fleeing China). Abandoned once again, the Ang women figure out a way to overcome the many obstacles they face, including enduring a thousand mile journey to Hong Kong and eventually finding their family in Taiwan.

The story is narrated in the first person from Hai's perspective, which was the perfect narrative structure in this case because it made the experience more immersive and personal. In her Author's Note (which is not to be missed), Chung explains the inspiration for the story, which was originally going to be a biography of sorts about her maternal grandmother, whom she had stayed with in Taiwan as a child. But after her grandmother died, she realized there were too many gaps in her grandmother's life that she knew nothing about and regrettably had never asked, so she pivoted to turning the family history she was planning to write into a fictional story using the notes and interviews that she and her mother had already gathered. Basing the character of Hai on her maternal grandmother, Chung was able to fill in the gaps of her own family history, but more than that, for us readers, she delivered a beautifully-written story about a family of women who survive devastating heartbreak and hardship to resiliently rise above the entrenched cultural norms that bind them to inferiority within their society.

As a Chinese daughter myself, I resonated deeply with Hai and many of the struggles she went through in trying to reconcile her identity with her culture. While I didn't share all of the experiences she went through, I did grow up under the same Chinese culture, so I was familiar with many of the antiquated traditions as well as the historical context in the story. Even with this familiarity, I have to admit that many of the scenes involving Hai's POS (pardon my French) father and grandmother and their horrible treatment of the mothers and daughters in the family were hard to read. With that said though, this is actually where Chung's story stands out from many of the other historical novels that revolve around Chinese culture and tradition — I appreciated the way that she succinctly and clearly lays out the facts of how women were treated during that time without mincing words. More than any other novel I've read in recent years (specifically ones written in contemporary times), this one does a great job exploring the internal battle that many of the women who grow up in these restrictive cultures face — despite understanding the injustices they suffer, they've internalized what they've been taught to the extent that it not only becomes a "normal" part of who they are, they also oftentimes end up perpetuating these same injustices (whether intentionally or unintentionally) onto future generations. To this point, there were many thought-provoking quotes throughout the book (which I of course marked up), but the following excerpt stood out to me the most. In this scene, Hai (as an adult now) gets into an argument with her mother, who finally, after many years, gives birth to a son, Ming, to carry on the Ang family name (though ironically, this doesn't alleviate the poor treatment that the mother continues to endure because the mother-in-law is already used to abusing her); Hai sees her mother giving her baby brother Ming a bottle of milk while she only gives her other daughter Hua (who was born right before Ming) a bottle of rice water — Hai is livid that her mother would continue to perpetuate the "preferential treatment of boys over girls" tradition after everything they suffered the past couple years precisely because they weren't sons: "…Mom began to weep. "Hai, Ming is the only one who will support us when we are old. The only one who can care for us in the afterlife. I love Hua and all my other daughters, but I have a duty, as a wife, to make sure Ming grows up well. When you have your own son, you will understand." She cried because she thought I was judging her unfairly, without realizing that her words had cut me deep. Mom hadn't said it explicitly, but I heard it loud and clear: All of us girls were worth less than Ming. She loved us less than Ming. Yet Mom was confused by my anger, and oblivious to my pain. To her, the ancient traditions centering the son were our pillar, entwined in our religion, inseparable from our existence on this earth. Telling her I was hurt would be like saying I was offended by the typhoon that tore through Mount Davis. In her mind, these injustices were part of being a woman, and bearing them was simply our fate. Men made the rules in our society, but women often enforced them. Was there something about having a son that transformed us? Was that why Nai Nai was so wretched? Was that going to be me as a mother? I didn't want it to be. After what I had been through, how could I fall into that same pattern?" Arriving at this understanding becomes tremendously important for the characters in the story, which I won't get into here (you will need to read this one to find out more).

Needless to say, this is a book I highly recommend, but with the understanding that it definitely won't be an easy read. As with most stories about the travesties of war, this one has brutal scenes as it follows the harrowing journey of the Ang women through several generations, but the payoff at the end is well worth the read. This story (and its characters) is not one that I will forget anytime soon!

Received ARC from Berkley / Penguin Random House via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

I've been reading quite a few new releases the last couple of months and while many of those I enjoyed immensely (majority have been 4 and 4.5 star reads thankfully), I had yet to come across one that I could truly categorize as a 5 star level "this book blew me away" type read (so far this year, I've rated 2 books 5 stars, but both were backlist reads). Well, heading into summer reading season, I'm happy to report that I've finally come across my first 5 star read among the plentiful 2023 new releases — Thao Thai's spectacular debut novel Banyan Moon (scheduled for publication in June).

There was so much to unpack with this book, I'm honestly not sure where to begin. Perhaps the best place to start would be what attracted me to this book in the first place — as soon as I read the premise, especially the following last paragraph, I knew that this was a book I abs had to read: Spanning decades and continents, from 1960s Vietnam to the wild swamplands of the Florida coast, Banyan Moon is a stunning and deeply moving story of mothers and daughters, the things we inherit, and the lives we choose to make out of that inheritance."

First of all, I love sweeping family sagas, but in particular, I'm drawn to stories about mother/daughter relationships. Part of the reason I gravitate toward these types of stories is because I have a complicated relationship with my own mother, so I'm constantly on the lookout for books that explore this — particularly between Asian mothers and daughters, as there are usually familiar cultural dynamics involved that inform these relationships, which can hopefully help me make sense of my own.

To be honest, reading this book was like a gut punch for me because I resonated so deeply with each of the 3 main characters — Minh (grandmother and family matriarch), Huong (Minh's daughter and Ann's mother), and Ann (Minh's granddaughter, Huong's daughter, and herself about to become a mother) — and the various misunderstandings and disagreements that defined their relationship with each other. I understood Ann's feeling of being adrift and floating and not really knowing what she wanted to do with her life, only that she wanted to escape from the perpetual tension that always existed when she was in her mother's presence. I also understood Huong's feelings of inadequacy — both as a mother and as a daughter — and feeling like she had no choice but to resign herself to a life that reflected what others wanted rather than what she actually wanted. And yes, I also understood Minh's struggle, why she became the overbearing force to be reckoned with in the family, and what necessitated her urge to protect her granddaughter at all costs. So many of the dynamics that were at play between these three women felt so familiar to me, as they reflected some of my experiences and struggles with my own family over the years: for instance: the inability to communicate our true feelings no matter how hard we try, and then being bogged down by endless guilt and regret that never truly goes away; the resentment and hurt built up from a lifetime of letting fear and desperation dictate our words and actions, resulting in us saying things to each other that we may not really mean, but that end up dealing irreparable damage to our relationships; and for me, this one was the most poignant and heartbreaking — the constant struggle with understanding the different ways to love someone and the impossibility of choosing a "right" or "wrong" way to love (especially where family is concerned). As an indication of how deeply this story resonated with me — during various points as I was reading, I actually had to set the book down in order to wipe away tears that seemed to appear of their own accord.

Another thing that blew me away with this book was the writing. I love beautiful prose and this one definitely had plenty of it! When I read fiction, I tend to read straight through without marking up any passages because I don't want to break up the flow of the story, but in this instance, I couldn't help myself — some of the passages, in articulating the complexities of the relationship between the 3 generations of Tran women, also described my own feelings so precisely that I just had to mark them for rereading and reflection later.

One other thing I wanted to mention is the format of the narrative, which, except for the first chapter, alternated between the perspectives of Minh, Huong, and Ann, both in the present day as well as going back to the past. This format was powerful, I felt, as juxtaposing the three women's stories in this way not only helped us see how each navigated her role as daughters (which is important because of how much these experiences shaped their future roles as mothers), but it also helped us to see how similar some of their motivations were, yet how differently their lives turned out based on the choices they made.

As I mentioned earlier, there is a lot to unpack with this one and the above only touches upon a few of my initial thoughts about certain aspects of the story that resonated with me, which of course only scratches the surface of what this book is about. This is why I'm so glad that one of my book clubs chose this as a monthly read, as I now have an excuse to go back and reread this in preparation for the discussion. Definitely looking forward to it!

Received ARC from Mariner Books via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

Going into Susie Luo's debut novel Paper Names, I knew to expect an immigrant story, as I gathered as much from reading the summary and a couple reviews beforehand. However, what I wasn't expecting was an immigrant story that would be so different from what I've read in the past.

To start off, the structure of the story was quite unique. Told from the perspectives of three main characters — Tony, Tammy, and Oliver — the narrative alternated not just between the characters, but also between multiple timelines in a non-linear, non-chronological fashion. In addition, the narrative also switched back and forth between first and third person depending on which character's perspective the story was being told from (all of Tammy's chapters were in first person). Normally, this type of structure would be difficult to follow, but it actually worked well in this instance, as I found the story flowed pretty seamlessly from one perspective to another.

As the Chinese daughter of immigrant parents, I thought I would resonate with Tammy's perspective the most, but I actually found that I also related quite a bit to Tony's story as well. In fact, this was one of the areas that made this particular immigrant story different from others — through Tony, we got to hear the immigrant parents' perspective and how the decision to leave their country for a foreign one impacted them. I appreciated the way this structure gave a fuller, more well-rounded picture of the immigrant struggle, which also made the story more powerful, in my opinion. For me, Tony's story arc was the most moving, but more importantly, it gave me better perspective on my own parents' struggles back in the day and how the decision to immigrate ended up shaping their lives. The chapters told from Oliver's perspective were well-done too, but unsurprisingly, his story arc was one I couldn't relate as much to.

There is so much more I could say about this story, but I think it would have more of an impact experiencing it for one's self. One thing to note though is that this was a contemplative, reflective story where there was not much action save for a few pivotal scenes — one that unfolded slowly, with particular focus on the characters' thoughts and feelings. I mention this because a quiet story such as this one, coupled with an unconventional structure and a timeline that jumps around, might not work for everyone, so a heads up just in case. Overall, this was a solid debut and I look forward to reading more from Luo in the future.

Received ARC from Hanover Square Press via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

I have most of Kristina McMorris’s works on my TBR, though so far, I’ve only had a chance to read two of her books — this book, her newest novel The Ways We Hide, and her previous one, Sold on a Monday, which came out back in 2018. While I have every intention of getting through McMorris’s backlist at some point, I also don’t want to miss any of her new works — which is why, as soon as I saw that she had a new book coming out this month, I requested an ARC before even reading the summary of what the book would be about.

After I got approved, I went back and read the blurb, which made me even more intrigued and excited to read the novel. While I’ve read plenty of books set during World War II and covering various themes, one that I haven’t come across is exactly what McMorris’s new book explores: the role of magicians / illusionists in the war effort. Up until this point, I’ve always thought about magicians as entertainers, never realizing that there were very practical ways they could put their skills to use during the war, such as helping to design escape plans and contraptions or other gadgets that could hide things such as maps. This was a fascinating concept to me and an angle not often explored in WWII-themed fiction. Not only that though, in terms of this particular story, the illusionist is a woman (the main character Fenna Vos), which is even more rare given the time period and the prevalent society conventions at the time.

From a historical perspective, McMorris did a great job relaying the various elements related to real-life events and people, as well as establishing an atmospheric sense of time and place. I remember reading somewhere that McMorris mentioned this is one of her more ambitious novels to date, which I can totally see, as this one actually covered quite a bit of ground, with a time period spanning 1928 to 1945, a setting across three different countries (United States, England, the Netherlands), and a multitude of historical events / people covered (which I didn’t actually realize until I read her Author’s Note at the end of the book). The meticulous research she did in preparation was obvious in the way she was able to utilize so much descriptive detail throughout the story, whether in reference to historical events and people, or even the gadgets created for military use. Also, with Fenna’s background as the daughter of Dutch immigrants and so parts of the story revolves around the Dutch community she grows up in, I ended up learning a lot in that area as well.

In addition to the story being well-written, the characters were also well-drawn, with Fenna written in a way where, as readers, we can’t help rooting for her through all the hardships. With that said however, I honestly found it difficult to connect with her on an emotional level — which is strange given the entire story was told from Fenna’s first person point of view, so we are privy to all her inner thoughts and feelings. I think part of the reason for this is because, for me, some parts of the story ended up focusing a bit too much on Fenna’s romantic relationship with Arie, to the point that it drove a large part of Fenna’s actions and decisions during a certain portion of the story. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but given the premise of the story and the highly dangerous situations she often found herself in, some of her actions came across as irrational and illogical. While the romance piece wasn’t overwhelming compared to the rest of the story, it was a little distracting for me because I was expecting more focus on the historical piece and how Fenna uses her skills as an illusionist and escape artist in her work with MI9. This was also the main reason I ended up rating this 4 stars instead of 5, as I felt like the direction of the story strayed a bit near the midway mark and also, the emotional connection was lacking.

Overall, I definitely liked this one quite a bit and recommend it as a worthwhile read, especially for the different and refreshing angle it presents in terms of WWII historical fiction.

Received e-ARC from Sourcebooks Landmark via NetGalley and print ARC via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

?I'm quite picky when it comes to reading nonfiction books. I tend to gravitate toward biographies and memoirs as well as essay collections, though I do also read general nonfiction when the occasion calls for it (i.e.: book club pick). In these instances, subject matter is pretty important, especially since it takes more focus and concentration on my part to get through a nonfiction book. In this sense, when I read the premise for linguist and East Asian scholar Zhuqing Li's Daughters of the Flower Fragrant Garden, and saw that it fell perfectly into these two categories (biography nonfiction subject matter I'm interested in), I knew this was a book I would want to read.

While there is some anecdotal information interspersed throughout, majority of Li's book is actually about her two aunts Jun and Hong, who came of age during one of the most tumultuous times in China's history. Born 2 years apart into the prominent and wealthy Chen family, the sisters grew up in a beautiful villa in Fuzhou built by their father — a home they came to know as the Flower Fragrant Garden. When the onset of World War II and Japan's invasion of various parts of China forces the Chen family to flee their home, Jun especially finds her hard-won right to further her education through attending college completely upended. Hong also experiences hardship during this period, but she is ultimately able to finish her studies and fulfill her dream of becoming a doctor. At the end of the war, with China and the Allies victorious, the family thought they would be able to return to their former lives as well as their beloved villa in the mountains, but it was not to be. Civil war breaks out between the ruling Nationalist Party and the Communists, with everything coming to a head when Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek flees to Taiwan and the Communist Party comes to power under Mao Zedong. During this time, the sisters' lives are changed forever when Jun ends up stuck on an island under Nationalist control and, unable to return to the Mainland, eventually moves to Taiwan and marries a Nationalist general, which results in estrangement from her family for decades. Hong meanwhile endures the many hardships brought about by the Great Leap Forward, Cultural Revolution, and many of the other disastrous "initiatives" implemented in China during that time. It is not until 1982, after decades apart, with both sisters having survived various hardships, that Jun and Hong are finally able to reunite.

In this chronicle of her two aunts' extraordinary lives, Zhuqing Li tells the story of her family line set against the backdrop of China's turbulent post-WWII sociopolitical history and the evolution of the country's fraught relationship with Taiwan. I actually started this book last week and finished it on Saturday (June 4th), which happened to be the 33rd anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre (a coincidence that only dawned on me after I finished reading the book). Though this particular story isn't about Tiananmen Square (despite that event still being mentioned in the book, albeit briefly), its significance in terms of China's political history is, of course, not lost on me Even though I was only 11 years old when the Tiananmen Square massacre occurred and of course, having already immigrated to the U.S. years before that, I was thousands of miles away, but that didn't make it any less impactful, especially as a Chinese girl coming of age during that time. In that context, this was, without a doubt, not an easy read by any means — hearing Jun's and Hong's stories, with the unflinching descriptions of harrowing experiences they had to endure, the political undercurrents that dominated their entire lives, it was hard not to be moved by the resilience and endurance of these two remarkable women.

Regardless of background, this will undoubtedly be a difficult read for those who decide to pick this one up, but it is well worth the effort. On the surface, this may seem like simply a story of two sisters separated by war, but much deeper than that, it is also an insightful look into Chinese history, culture, politics, and much more.

Received ARC from W. W. Norton via Bookbrowse First Impressions program.

?I have mixed feelings about this book. On the one hand, I appreciated the uniqueness of this book's structure, where the entire story essentially followed the main character Alice as she went through various "activities of daily living" that included becoming a caretaker for her stepfather as well as working on a project about reclusive artist Tehching Hsieh. Each chapter consisted of seemingly random snippets into Alice's life, interspersed with various tidbits about the Artist (as that is what he is referred to throughout the story), though the details ended up melding together to the point that it becomes difficult to tell whose life — Alice's or the Artist's — was being described.

Having said all that, the unique structure was also what made this a difficult read for me — the narrative seemed to lean toward the philosophical and abstract, with the story also going off on so many different tangents that it made the main arc hard to follow. To be honest, even after finishing this, I found it hard to describe what the story was about. There was tons of "name-dropping" — references to famous people from the literary, art, and philosophy worlds as well as historical places and events, which in itself wasn't a problem, but then the author, Lisa Hsaio Chen, would follow those references with details that would go on for pages, only circling back to the current situation at hand near the end of the chapter. While Chen never makes any connection outright between all the random people / places / events that get brought up throughout the story and the things going on in Alice's life, my guess is that, in structuring the story this way, perhaps Chen was expecting us to see the parallels and make the connection ourselves. Nothing wrong with that technically, but it just made for an exhausting read that I had neither the time or patience for at the moment.

The other thing that made this a frustrating reading experience for me was the inconsistency of the writing, which made parts of the story hard to follow. In addition to more grammatical and sentence structure issues than I would've preferred (I mean, I understand that this is an ARC, but still), there were also times when the author would insert new characters into the story without introducing them or wait until several pages in to introduce them— this was frustrating in the sense that it was both distracting and it broke the flow of the story, as I had to flip back to previous sections of the book to see if I perhaps missed a reference somewhere.

Going into this book, I really wanted to like it and while I found the premise interesting, plus the concept of the story had a lot of potential, the execution unfortunately didn't really work for me. There wasn't much of a plot to speak of, which is usually fine as long as the characters are well-drawn, but in this case, I couldn't seem to connect to any of the characters either.

With all that said though, there were some elements that were done well and held my interest (hence I didn't rate this as low as I probably would have normally), it's just that I wasn't expecting for it to be so tedious and require so much patience. Of course, it could just be me — since this one doesn't publish until April, I would suggest waiting for a few more reviews to come out first to get a a more well-rounded opinion before deciding whether to pick this one up.

Received ARC from W.W. Norton Company via BookBrowse First Impressions program

This one doesn't publish until February 2022, but I received an advance copy early for review and I'm so glad I did, as I enjoyed it immensely. Supposedly this is a modern day retelling of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, but as I've never read that Russian classic, any parallels were lost on me. Instead, I was able to experience Lan Samantha Chang's exquisite novel on its own merit and I was honestly quite impressed with the brilliant way that the story was told. At its heart, this is an immigrant story about a Chinese man named Leo Chao who settled with his wife Winnie in the small community of Haven, Wisconsin over thirty five years ago. Like many immigrants, Leo struggled to make a name for himself in a community where very few people looked like him, but eventually he was able to open Chinese restaurant The Fine Chao — though it can be argued that his true crowning achievement was having three handsome sons to carry on the family name. The eldest, William (who goes by the nickname "Dagou" or Big Dog), the head chef at the restaurant, is charismatic and larger than life (in both physical stature and personality), while second son Ming is the most successful, having built his own career and life away from the family; the youngest, James, is the good son — the college pre-med student who is passive, obedient, and full of love for everyone. All three sons are reuniting for Christmas in the small town where they grew up, called to gather by their mother Winnie, who has moved out of the house she shared with their father, giving up all her worldly possessions for "tranquility" at the Spiritual House that is run by Head Abbess Gu Ling Zhu Chi. We quickly find out that the family patriarch, the man responsible for serving some of the finest Chinese food this side of Wisconsin, is actually despised and hated: by most of the town due to him being an "outsider" whose success in pursuing the American Dream is resented by those in his predominantly white community who feel he is undeserving, and also by his own family due to him being a brash, tyrannical narcissist and philanderer who has no respect for his wife and also delights in mocking his sons (in other words, he pretty much lives for terrorizing his family). It is almost time for the annual Chao family Christmas party and even though things will be different this year with all the issues in their family, a tradition is a tradition and the party must go on. But after the party, Leo Chao is found dead — presumably murdered — in the basement of his restaurant and his sons suddenly find themselves thrust into the spotlight when one of them is accused of killing him. That spotlight tightens even more during the trial as intimate details about the family's dysfunctional dynamics are revealed — at the same time though, it also shines a light on the inherent prejudices of a seemingly pleasant small town when its people are tasked with determining the fate of someone they've never considered as one of their own.

Given the premise of the story (a murder mystery involving the American-born sons of Chinese immigrant parents), I was actually expecting this to be a typical immigrant story, but it turned out to be very different (in a good way). Like many immigrant stories, this one also highlighted the hardships and sacrifices as well as the injustices that the members of the immigrant family endured, however what surprised me was how the author, Lan Samantha Chang, was able to tell the story so masterfully in a way that was humorous and witty yet also respectful and good-natured. Of course, suffering (as well as people dying) is no laughing matter and the prejudice that immigrants in this country face is a serious issue to contend with, but to be able to approach these difficult topics in a way that brings needed attention to them in an honest yet humorous way is definitely no easy feat. As a Chinese American daughter of immigrant Chinese parents who grew up in a household that straddled two completely opposite (and at times conflicting) cultures, I could absolutely relate to the Chao family at the center of this story. The idiosyncrasies of various members within the same family, the unique pressures that define the lives of immigrant families, the struggles with identity and belonging, the oftentimes fruitless but nevertheless enduring effort to try and reconcile seemingly insurmountable cultural differences, the micro-aggressions and unconscious biases that many of us who come from immigrant families can't help but be keenly attuned to (whether we want to be or not), the constant struggle between being embarrassed by and ashamed of where we came from versus a sense of pride and being grateful for who we eventually become — many of these shared experiences with various characters in the story resonated deeply with me.

I personally found this book to be clever, astute, funny, and yes, delightful in the sense that reading it felt like I was sharing in on an inside joke with family that only those of us who came from a similar place in society would understand. With all that being said, I am keenly aware that other people who choose to read this book may have an entirely different reaction to it, which, of course, is fine. I still wholeheartedly recommend it, regardless.

Received ARC from W. W. Norton & Company via Bookbrowse First Impressions program.

4.5 stars. When I finished reading Juhea Kim's debut novel Beasts of a Little Land, the first thought that came into my head was that this did not read like a debut at all. From the story structure to the development of the characters, to the historical details as well as the various themes and motifs incorporated into the narrative, the writing flowed so well and so seamlessly that I was completely immersed in this epic story from beginning to end.

The story spans a time period from 1917 to 1965 — a half century that bears witness to Korea's evolution over the years, as a Japanese-occupied territory up through World War II, and later divided into the North and South Korea that we are more familiar with in modern times. Against this backdrop, we are introduced to two characters whose fates become inexplicably intertwined — JungHo, an orphan who roams the streets as a beggar, later becoming a revolutionary fighter for Korea's independence, and Jade, a peasant girl sold by her family to a courtesan school who later becomes one of the most sought after actresses in Korea. As Jade and JungHo come of age amongst the changing landscape of their country, they experience moments both glorious and harrowing, but all have a profound impact on them in some way. This is a story where all the supporting characters play vital roles in the narrative, but not only that, all of the characters – whether good or bad, endearing or despiscable – are all equally unforgettable. One of the things I love most about this story is the complexity of the characters and the mixed feelings that evoked – for example, with the Japanese generals Ito and Yamada, they are supposed to be the enemy and majority of their actions are indeed abhorrent, but then, at certain points, they reveal their humanity through certain acts of kindness or a redeeming factor that made it hard to despise them completely. By the same token, there were also moments where I found it hard to root for some of the "good" characters, even with the understanding that some of the morally questionable actions they take are out of a need for survival. I also found it interesting the way nearly all the characters that appear in the story are connected in some way, whether directly or indirectly, that is apparent to the reader, but not necessarily to the characters themselves. This aspect, coupled with the atmospheric nature of the historical setting and time period, made for a truly immersive reading experience.

With all that said, my one complaint would probably be that, given the epic nature of the story, I was expecting more emotional depth, which I felt was a bit lacking in this instance (hence the reason why I rated this 4.5 stars instead of 5). Nevertheless, this was absolutely a worthwhile read, especially for historical fiction fans. In addition to learning a lot about Korea that I didn't know before, I also appreciated the time period being one that isn't commonly covered in many historical fiction works. I definitely recommend this book and at the same time, look forward to reading more from this author in the future.

Received ARC from Ecco via NetGalley and BookBrowse First Impressions program.

4.5 stars

"...a fine meal should be designed to feed the mind, not just the mouth and the stomach."

It's no secret that I love food memoirs – in fact, if given a choice between reading a regular memoir and a food-related memoir, the food one wins out every time! The reason for this is, well yes, I love to eat, but more significantly, I'm also fascinated by the "culture" of food and the myriad ways that different experiences with food can shape our lives, often in the most unexpected ways. In this regard, Carolyn Phillips' newest work At the Chinese Table was the absolute perfect read, one that checked every single box in terms of what I look for in memoirs, yet at the same time, it also exceeded my expectations in so many ways. It's not often that a memoir goes way beyond its stated intent of providing insight into aspects of the author's life by incorporating elements such as: a beautifully written, immersive narrative that brought various delectable food dishes to life through lush, vivid descriptions; wonderfully-rendered illustrations (all drawn by the author herself!) woven throughout each chapter that perfectly complemented the author's story; an in-depth exploration of not just a diverse and rich cuisine, but also its history and culture; easy-to-follow recipes with helpful tips and even a glossary of often-encountered terms; and ancestral stories about the Chinese family she married into, a family that inadvertently taught her so much about life, love, relationships, and food.

My experience reading this book was actually very different from all of the previous food memoirs I've read in the past due to the fact that I grew up in a traditional Chinese family just like the author's husband – a background that meant, going into this book, I already had a certain familiarity with the cuisines and the various dishes described in such vivid detail throughout the book. With Chinese food oftentimes depicted in a homogenous, stereotypical way in mainstream American culture, it was refreshing to see Phillips (a white American woman) go the opposite direction and actually take the time to explore, recognize, and embrace the variety of flavors and nuances of Chinese cuisine (of course, the fact that her Chinese husband is an epicurean who shares her love for good, authentic Chinese food definitely helped) — to the point that her enthusiasm and love for Chinese cuisine shines forth in every page. I love how Phillips covers such a variety of different cuisines from all across Taiwan and Mainland China — from food stalls, street markets, and hole-in-the-wall local diners to traditional family dishes and even "haute couture" fare from fancy restaurants. I mean, how often will you see dishes such as the following mentioned all in one book: yanduxian (one of my favorite Shanghainese dishes), dandan mein, suanni bairou (a Sichuanese dish that is spicy as hell but oh so delicious!), pidan doufu (a tofu dish with preserved egg), xianfantuan (rice roll with fried cruller and other stuffing that, when paired with a warm bowl of soy bean milk, is one of the most heavenly of Taiwanese breakfasts!), hongxiao shizitou (red-braised lion's head meatballs), fenzheng paigu (rice-covered steamed pork ribs over sweet potato — another of my favorite dishes that I rarely see mentioned anywhere!), just to name a few. It was such a delight to see so many familiar dishes (and more) given such detailed coverage (the one downside though was that I started craving these dishes as I was reading knowing full well I wouldn't be able to satisfy those cravings any time soon).

Without a doubt, this has been one of the most personal and heartfelt memoirs I've read to date! It's definitely a must-read for anyone who loves and appreciates the varied flavors of authentic Chinese cuisine. Highly recommended!

Received finished copy from publisher W.W. Norton Company via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

In trying to rate this book, I feel a bit conflicted. On the one hand, I loved the beautiful, lyrical writing and the way that the author, Gabriela Garcia, was able to capture the emotional nuances of her characters so perfectly (and seemingly effortlessly). I love family stories that span generations and I felt this one was particularly well done in terms of showing the generational connections between the various women as well as how the decisions each one makes impact each other in a profound way. I also found it admirable how Garcia was able to cover so much ground in such a short novel (this one clocked in at a little over 200 pages), seamlessly weaving into the narrative timely and important topics such as illegal immigration, deportation, the border crisis, drug addiction, domestic and sexual abuse, etc., alongside political and historical events related to Cuba and the revolution that occurred there, plus aspects of the Cuban culture and community. The way that Garcia presented the struggles that her characters (women some from the same family but different generations, others not from the family but connected somehow) go through, I felt like I was getting a first-hand account more powerful than what usually gets presented in the news. I definitely learned a lot!

With all that said, one of the things that didn’t work too well for me was the non-linear structure of the story. I didn’t have a problem with each chapter being told from the perspective of different characters, but what made this a frustrating read for me was the jumping back and forth between multiple timelines and settings in a non-chronological way (for example – jumping from 2018 to 1866, then to 2014, then to 1959 then to 2016 then back to 2006, etc.). I found it really difficult to keep track of the story arcs and ended up having to flip back and forth a lot. I think if I had been able to finish this book in one sitting, it would’ve been fine, but the reality is that I’m rarely able to do so with how busy my life often gets.

Overall, I feel that this is a strong, assured debut that’s also a necessary read, especially for readers who like well-written contemporary fiction that not just reflects current times and issues, but also incorporates historical aspects as well. Definitely highly recommended, though with the caveat that it’s best to read this one all in one sitting if you are able to. It’s also not an easy read by any means due to the heavy (and oftentimes controversial) topics it covers — though triggers abound, it’s still very much a worthwhile read.

Received print ARC from publisher (Flatiron Books) via BookBrowse.

I'm usually not a huge fan of short story collections and when it comes to books related to politics, I try to steer as far away as possible -- based on these two reasons alone, I most likely would not have picked up this book under normal circumstances. However, I ended up being drawn to this anthology mostly because of the 13 authors involved, as several of them are among my favorites in terms of previous works of theirs that I've read and adored – plus this one being historical fiction definitely helped, since it's one of my favored genres to read. Also, this anthology is different from the typical short story collection in that there is a distinct connection between all the stories: the women's march for the right to vote that took place in New York City on October 23, 1915.

One of the things I loved about this collection was how each author was able to weave into each of their stories some of the themes from their own works, yet still have it tie so perfectly back to the theme of the collection and the specific events that took place. I thought the flow of the stories was wonderful as well and I absolutely loved seeing some of the same characters "show up" in each other's stories, even if it was only for a small "blink and you'll miss it" scene. I also loved the diversity of the women in the story and how they were from all different walks of life, with a variety of experiences and backgrounds, yet all were impacted by the suffrage movement in a meaningful way.

Overall, what blew me away with this collection was how well it was put together (especially given the confines of the premise): the flow was seamless, the writing was stellar, the stories were compelling, and best of all, the characters were wonderfully drawn. Of course, this should come as no surprise given the 13 authors involved with this collection are all accomplished writers at the top of their craft. I went into this one with high expectations and it absolutely delivered!

As this book is meant to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment, I found this to be a fantastic tribute to all the women who played a role (whether directly or indirectly) in helping our voices be heard. With most short story collections, each reader will usually have certain stories that they enjoyed more than others, but for me, that wasn't the case here – I can't say which stories I liked more because, to be honest, all the stories stood out and I loved all of them equally. I definitely highly recommend this one, especially to historical fiction fans whom I'm sure will find much to enjoy with this collection, regardless of whether you've read these authors' previous works or not. For me though, reading and loving this collection has inspired me to seek out the works of the other authors that I'm less familiar with and add those to my TBR list!

Received finished copy from publisher Henry Holt via BookBrowse First Impressions program.

This is the second book I've read in recent months that is set in the pre-World War II time period of the 1930s in Germany, during which Hitler rose to power and Nazism infiltrated every part of the country. Though set in a similar time period, the angle that this book explores is markedly different. The story is told from the perspective of Hetty Heinrich, who, as the daughter of a high-ranking SS officer, was raised to be the perfect German citizen — pure in lineage, patriotic, fiercely loyal to Hitler and the Nazi ideology he espoused. As a dutiful "daughter" of the Thousand Year Reich, Hetty is prepared to do her part — that is, until one day when she is accidentally reunited with Walter Keller, an estranged childhood friend who had saved her from drowning when she was seven years old. To Hetty, Walter is perfect in every way — except for the fact that he is Jewish, and also, as Hetty slowly starts to realize, he goes against every belief she had previously been taught. The two of them end up falling in love and gradually, Hetty realizes everything she thought she understood about her family and country were actually lies, which ignites in her the will to fight against them. When the tides of anti-semitism in Germany escalate to the point where Walter's mere existence is put into question, Hetty is faced with the ultimate decision to try and save him at all costs.

As is expected when reading historical fiction, the feeling of being transported to a different time and place is one of the things I always look out for, which in this story worked really well. This book's strongest element though is in the area of character development. We first meet Hetty when she is 7 years old and subsequently follow her development through her teenage years, but what stands out the most is her feisty personality and strong-willed nature. Hetty is a character who both enthralls and frustrates in equal measure, which I guess is what makes her such an interesting character.

Given the historical context, books set against the backdrop of Nazi rule going into World War II are rarely ever "easy" reads and of course, this book was no exception. The sections that described the brutalities inflicted upon Jews (and others who were considered "enemies" of the regime) were difficult to read, yet I understand why such details were necessary to the story. With that said though, I also felt the writing was a bit uneven in certain areas — the narrative was told entirely from Hetty's first person perspective, yet some sections were descriptive to the point that it didn't seem to match the voice. I also felt the story dragged a bit in the earlier chapters and it wasn't until around the halfway mark that the story became much more engaging — though with that said, for me at least, the last section of the book was the strongest in terms of plot, character, and emotional nuance.

Despite some issues with pacing and flow, this was a good story overall, and definitely a worthy entry into the canon of WWII-era fiction, in my opinion. Over the years, I've heard many people complain about the over-saturation of WWII era novels in the market and while I agree for the most part, I also feel it's extremely important for these stories to continue to be told, if anything, to serve as a lesson for us and future generations, that history cannot be forgotten.

Received ARC from William Morrow (HarperCollins) via Bookbrowse First Impressions program

One of the reasons why I love reading historical fiction is because it gives me a chance to learn about people, places, cultures, time periods, etc. that I may not otherwise have known about. It is also an opportunity for me to better understand aspects of history and the important role we, as human beings, play in shaping and directing the trajectory of this world in which we live.

Even though Jennifer Chiaverini’s latest historical novel Resistance Women is set in a time period that most bibliophiles like me who read a lot of WWII-themed novels are probably very familiar with, the story she tells about American graduate student Mildred Fish Harnack and the many brave women who were part of her Rote Kapelle (Red Orchestra) resistance cell in Germany during Hitler’s rise to power in the 1930s, is not one that I had heard of prior to reading this book. Spanning a time period from 1929 all the way through the end of the war, this is an epic tale told in meticulous detail, through the eyes of 4 women who bear witness to Germany’s transformation from a thriving intellectual and cultural hub to an oppressive, violent, and much-feared Nazi regime. In addition to Mildred and Greta, the other 2 perspectives that formed the core narrative were that of Martha Dodd, the lively and vivacious daughter of the U.S. Ambassador, as well as Jewish literature student Sara Weitz (a fictional character based on other Jewish women within the Rote Kapelle network).

Over the years, I’ve read plenty of books about this particular historical period, but this one is unique in that it tells the story not just from the Jewish perspective, but also from that of anti-fascist Germans who were intent on saving their beloved country from total ruin at the hands of a madman. This was a fascinating and insightful read that was absolutely well-researched and well-written (I’m blown away by the extensive amount of research that Chiaverini did and how she was able to incorporate all of it into the story so seamlessly). At nearly 600 pages, also given the subject matter, this was not an easy read by any means, especially the sections that mentioned the horrors and atrocities of what took place during that time – however with that said, being able to learn about these courageous women and getting to hear their inspiring, powerful stories, definitely made this well worth the effort.

One quick footnote – I also noticed the political “comparison” that many of the other readers mentioned in their reviews and while I admit that it did frustrate me a bit at first because I felt it took some of the focus away from what the story was supposed to be about (namely the resistance women who sacrificed their lives to fight against evil), I eventually decided to ignore it and absorb myself in the women’s powerful stories instead.

Received complimentary copy from publisher (William Morrow) via BookBrowse.