Stephen Hong Sohn's Blog, page 33
December 18, 2019
A Review of Priya Sharma’s Ormeshadow (Tor.Com)
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A Review of Priya Sharma’s Ormeshadow (Tor.Com)
By Stephen Hong Sohn
So this book was yet another I was reading in the midst of many others. It comes out of Tor’s e-publishing initiative and imprint called, appropriately, Tor.com. Despite the name, they do have traditional trade paperback copies.
Let’s let the official site give us some background on this title: “Acclaimed author Priya Sharma transports readers back in time with Ormeshadow, a coming-of-age story as dark and rich as good soil. Burning with resentment and intrigue, this fantastical family drama invites readers to dig up the secrets of the Belman family, and wonder whether myths and legends are real enough to answer for a history of sin. Uprooted from Bath by his father's failures, Gideon Belman finds himself stranded on Ormeshadow farm, an ancient place of chalk and ash and shadow. The land crests the Orme, a buried, sleeping dragon that dreams resentment, jealousy, estrangement, death. Or so the folklore says. Growing up in a house that hates him, Gideon finds his only comforts in the land. Gideon will live or die by the Orme, as all his family has.”
Much of the novella (or a short novel, if you want to call it that) remains rooted in the realist realm for the most part and could be defined as a kind of domestic drama. When Gideon arrives with his father John and mother Clare to the Orme farm, they stir up old resentments related to family responsibilities. John’s brother Thomas had been handling the farm and now finds himself feeling like he must take in his brother’s family. Complicating matters is the fact that it’s clear that Thomas, who is already married (to Maud) with three children, possesses a sexual chemistry with Clare, so we’re watching these dynamics simmer beneath their interactions. Here, I will provide my requisite spoiler warning, so look away now if you don’t want to discover too much about the text.
One of the pivotal plot points is when Gideon’s father is found dead; the circumstances are unclear. It could have been a suicide or he could have been pushed off a cliff face, but the point is that John’s death catalyzes other problematic developments. Gideon is forced to give up his schooling, must live under the hawkish gaze of Thomas. The conclusion to the story had me a little bit confused. Sharma leaves enough ambivalence that the folktales related to the dragon mythology and a buried treasure remain still a little bit hazy. Certainly, Gideon’s position changes drastically but where Sharma falters, at least in my opinion, is in the connection between the dragon mythology and Gideon himself. The nature of this kind of bond seemed crucial to Gideon’s survival, yet his fate seems to run in another direction entirely. My reading is presupposing a more literal understanding of the plot points, but alas, I have no one yet to discuss the work with. Suffice it to say that Sharma’s prose is perfectly pointed and stylistically precise to the gothic dimensions of the novella.
For more, and to buy the book, go here.
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

A Review of Naomi Hirahara’s Iced in Paradise (Prospect Park Books, 2019)
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A Review of Naomi Hirahara’s Iced in Paradise (Prospect Park Books, 2019)
By Stephen Hong Sohn
It’s been a bit of time since I’ve reviewed a work by Naomi Hirahara, who is definitely one of my favorite Asian American mystery genre writers (along with Steph Cha and some others). I am still praying and hoping that Hirahara will be able to find a publisher that will put the Ellie Rush series into a trade paperback or *gasp* a hardcover. Fortunately, Prospect Park Books chose to release this particular book in dual editions, which is fitting since it seems as though Hirahara is starting off a new series with Iced in Paradise.
Let’s get this mystery, whodunnit party started with the official marketing description here: “Leilani Santiago has left her post-collegiate life in Seattle to return home to the Hawaiian island of Kaua‘i. Her mom’s been diagnosed with MS, and she wants to help keep afloat the family business, a shave ice shack. When Leilani arrives at work one morning, she stumbles across a dead body, a young pro surfer who was being coached by her estranged father. As her father soon becomes the No. 1 murder suspect, Leilani must find the real killer and somehow safeguard her ill mother, little sisters, and grandmother, while trying to keep the long-distance relationship with her boyfriend alive. With Iced in Paradise, award-winning mystery writer Naomi Hirahara is at the top of her game, introducing a smart, outspoken, sometimes cranky young sleuth and immersing readers in the charms and quirks of small-town Hawaiian life.”
First off, big kudos to Hirahara for pushing her aesthetic representational choices by working in dialogue that employs pidgin English. In an author’s note, Hirahara details that she’s not entirely an expert in the dialect so she had to work quite hard to render it in a realistic way. This choice is more than a detail because Hirahara is looking to give concrete and material dimensions to her depiction of Kaua‘i. Of course, with any good mystery, you have to have something to solve, which appears in the guise of the aforementioned surfer. Because the surfer is found dead in the family’s shave ice business, they are naturally looked at as suspects. But you know that Hirahara will lead us elsewhere. In particular, you’re hoping that the death of the surfer might have something to do with his father, a business magnate who is trying to develop more land at the expense of indigenous and local Hawaiian communities. In this respect, Hirahara is well aware of settler colonial problematics and gives readers a sense of the larger stakes of what it means to own land on the islands. At the same time, in some sense, this material becomes somewhat of a red herring, especially as the mystery draws to a close.
Though scope and problem of land ownership in Hawai‘i does cast a larger shadow over the resolution to the murder, the novel still manages to find its genre footing precisely because of Hirahara’s expert and deft use/construction of first person narration. Leilani Santiago is a fully realized, flawed, yet exceedingly likable heroine. We’ll fully sympathize with her, as her relationship disintegrates amid her desire to reconnect with her family and her roots. We’ll cheer for her as she doggedly tries to find a way to clear her father’s name. We’ll appreciate the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that she finds herself attracted to a former Silicon Valley executive who has traveled to the area to start a new life. And naturally, we’ll want to read ever more about her exploits and her mystery-solving adventures, so let’s hope Hirahara has at least the requisite trilogy in the works. In the meantime, it’s still summer, so let’s find a way to get ourselves a shave ice (not shaved ice) treat before the hot weather has given way to pumpkin spice lattes and Halloween candy.
For more and to buy the book, go to the official site.
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

A Review of Kendare Blake’s Two Dark Reigns (HarperTeen, 2018)
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A Review of Kendare Blake’s Two Dark Reigns (HarperTeen, 2018)
By Stephen Hong Sohn
The third book in the Three Dark Crowns series has landed. Kendare Blake brings us the action-heavy, ominous Two Dark Reigns (HarperTeen, 2018), which continues the stories of Katharine, the poisoner; Arisonoe, the faux-naturalist, also a poisoner; and Mirabella, the talented elementalist. You may remember: every generation, a set of three daughters are born. Eventually, they must fight each other to the death, so that one may rule. This generation, though, has decided to go about things differently. At the end of book two, Katharine ended up “winning” the crown, but only after getting pushed down a well and “resurrected” in some form, and then having her sisters abdicate Fennbirn Island entirely. Katharine becomes the Queen of Fennbirn by default.
So now let’s let B&N do some work for us: “Queen Katharine has waited her entire life to wear the crown. But now that she finally has it, the murmurs of dissent grow louder by the day. There’s also the alarming issue of whether or not her sisters are actually dead—or if they’re waiting in the wings to usurp the throne. Mirabella and Arsinoe are alive, but in hiding on the mainland and dealing with a nightmare of their own: being visited repeatedly by a specter they think might be the fabled Blue Queen. Though she says nothing, her rotting, bony finger pointing out to sea is clear enough: return to Fennbirn. Jules, too, is in a strange place—in disguise. And her only confidants, a war-gifted girl named Emilia and her oracle friend Mathilde, are urging her to take on a role she can’t imagine filling: a legion-cursed queen who will lead a rebel army to Katharine’s doorstep. This is an uprising that the mysterious Blue Queen may have more to do with than anyone could have guessed—or expected.”
The weird thing about this book is that it begins with a flashback sequence in which we discover that once upon a time, there was actually something called a Blue Queen. Apparently, once, a fourth daughter was born. When this fourth child appears, then the first three are automatically put to the death; the fourth daughter ends up becoming the Queen of Fennbirn in this scenario. The importance of this flashback sequence is not apparent until well into this novel, as Arsinoe is receiving ghostly visitations by the Blue Queen, named Illiann; she’s also dreaming about another queen named Daphne, who has befriended the Blue Queen. The death of the Blue Queen ends up creating a mist, one that threatens Katharine’s contemporary reign on Fennbirn, but other problems are afoot in the contemporary world of Katharine, Arisinoe and Mirabella.
Jules Millone has risen up by virtue of her status as a potential Legion Queen, namely, she is a woman with more than one “gift”: she has something called the war gift, which enables her to command objects and weapons at will (a sort of telekinetic battle power), while she is also a naturalist (and boasts a large predatory cat named Camden as a familiar). There is a potential apocalyptic showdown emerging between Katharine and Jules. Meanwhile Arsinoe is trying to figure out what to do about the fact that the mist is becoming more malevolent. Mirabella faces a crucial decision: should she align herself with Jules, who she believes may destroy Fennbirn entirely, or should she align herself with Katharine, who is the rightful current Queen, but who may continue to try to exterminate her sisters?
There’s a lot going on in this book, but I thoroughly enjoyed the plotting. It was interesting to see Blake include the Blue Queen/ Daphne storyline, as I didn’t know what it’s importance would be, and you can see she is building up the “mist” to be a major power player in the final book. Also, another intriguing turn of events in the final pages continues to mark Katharine as a pivotal fulcrum for the action, but I can’t help but feel a little bit pity for her. She’s gone through so much, and there’s a sense that, at least for her, there is no way to go but down. Very much looking forward to what will no doubt prove to be a complicated and twisty final book. As I mentioned last time, this series has been far superior to the angsty-teenagers-reincarnated-as-Greek-gods series she put out previously. Warning: death count is very high.
Buy the Book Here.
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

A Review of Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire (Riverhead, 2017)
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A Review of Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire (Riverhead, 2017)
By Stephen Hong Sohn
This book has been on my “to-read” list for quite some time. It was one of about four books I have been reading simultaneously. I read this book over a couple of weeks.
Let’s let the editorial description get us started: “Isma is free. After years of watching out for her younger siblings in the wake of their mother’s death, she’s accepted an invitation from a mentor in America that allows her to resume a dream long deferred. But she can’t stop worrying about Aneeka, her beautiful, headstrong sister back in London, or their brother, Parvaiz, who’s disappeared in pursuit of his own dream, to prove himself to the dark legacy of the jihadist father he never knew. When he resurfaces half a globe away, Isma’s worst fears are confirmed. Then Eamonn enters the sisters’ lives. Son of a powerful political figure, he has his own birthright to live up to—or defy. Is he to be a chance at love? The means of Parvaiz’s salvation? Suddenly, two families’ fates are inextricably, devastatingly entwined, in this searing novel that asks: What sacrifices will we make in the name of love?”
About two thirds through the novel, I realized that it was a contemporary re-imagining of Sophocles’s Antigone. Shamsie is not the first South Asian Anglophone writer to use that play as the starting point for a fictional re-imagining. Indeed, Joydeep Roy-Bhattacharya’s The Watch takes a similar angle, but that novel is set primarily in Afghanistan. Shamsie’s novel takes its cues from the transnational connections among the United States, England, Turkey, and Pakistan.
I’ll have to provide a spoiler warning here—turn away if you haven’t already—but what made me realize we were working in the frame of Antigone was the plotting reveal that Parvaiz was killed just outside an embassy. Because Parvaiz was suspected of working with subversive entities, his body is not allowed to be buried in England and is instead sent to Pakistan, his ethnic homeland. When Aneeka travels to Pakistan to take proper claims over his body and to give Parvaiz the burial he deserves, it is clear at this point that Shamsie is now working with the general framework of the play in mind. Of course, Shamsie does use names that roughly provide us with ethnic analogues: Aneeka/ Antigone; Parvaiz/ Polynices; Isma/ Ismene.
What I especially appreciate about Shamsie’s novel is its portrayal of the Creon figure, a politician by the name of Karamat Lone, who must find the complicated balance of upholding the law while also being aware that his ethnic heritage means higher expectations about community and loyalty. When Shamsie shifts to his interiority at the novel’s conclusion, we get a sense of the very large stakes of Shamsie’s work, which explores the damaging ways in which the juridical system fractures family and disables the reparative work of mourning. Further still, the surprise and tragic ending to Home Fire gestures to the ongoing struggles over the way the supposed “war on terror” is being waged. How can justice be wrought in a war in which so many are caught up, willing or not, in its ever-widening grasp? This question hovers over the novel as a dark and ominous cloud. Shamsie’s one salve is in her poetically positioned omniscient narrator, who leads us into the lush and dark psyches of these multifaceted characters.
Buy the Book Here.
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

A Review of Julie Kagawa’s Soul of the Sword (Inkyard Press, 2019)
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A Review of Julie Kagawa’s Soul of the Sword (Inkyard Press, 2019)
By Stephen Hong Sohn
So, I’m reviewing the second in this series, which started with Shadow of the Fox. I believe that this series is a trilogy with the third already set for release. As you can imagine without me already telling you, this particular installment ends with a kind of cliffhanger.
Let’s get caught up with the publicity material from the official site: “One thousand years ago, a wish was made and a sword of rage and lightning was forged. Kamigoroshi. The Godslayer. A weapon powerful enough to seal away the formidable demon Hakaimono. Now he has broken free. Kitsune shapeshifter Yumeko has one task: to take her piece of the ancient and powerful Scroll of a Thousand Prayers to the Steel Feather temple in order to prevent the summoning of the Harbinger of Change, the great Kami Dragon who will grant one wish to whomever holds the scroll. But she has a new enemy now, more dangerous than any she has yet faced. The demon Hakaimono is free at last, and he has possessed the very person Yumeko trusted to protect her from the evil at her heels, Kage Tatsumi of the Shadow Clan. Hakaimono has only one goal: to break the curse of the sword and set himself free to rain chaos and destruction over the land forevermore. To do so, he will need the scroll. And Yumeko is the only one standing in his way.”
I didn’t find this description to be all that accurate because Yumeko is really not the only one standing in the way of Hakaimono, though she certainly has a particular kind of fox-power that will enable her to do some work to help free Kage Tatsumi from Hakaimono’s grips. Kagawa has worked particularly hard to create a merry band of allies who Yumeko can rely on to make sure that she can complete her quest: they include the ronin Okame, the noble Taiyo, and the shrine maiden Reika. There’s also a narrative perspective given to a ghost, who is also there to provide some extra help for Yumeko. Yumeko and her allies have to also deal with the court intrigue from Lady Hanshou and her followers, while also trying to make their way to Steel Feather temple for the ultimate showdown. What makes the plot attain its full dimensions, though, is yet another villain. Indeed, Hakaimono is not the only one after the full scroll. This second villain is exactly what sets up the third book, as it seems as if the reappearance of the dragon is going to happen no matter what.
In any case, what makes this particular work one of Kagawa’s strongest is, frankly, the banter between the major characters. You’ll want them to succeed and to remain alive despite the fact that the odds are stacked against them. Though other readers probably caught on to this sooner than I did, I was not expecting the same-sex romance to develop between Okame and Taiyo, so this particular romance did add more to my specific readerly entertainment, as it took some attention away from the central romance plot between Yumeko and Kage Tatsumi. In any case, Kagawa’s a master at the paranormal young adult romance, so you can expect that I’ll be in line to read the final installment in the trilogy!
Buy the Book Here.
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

A Review of Jean Kwok’s Searching for Sylvie Lee (William Morrow, 2019)
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A Review of Jean Kwok’s Searching for Sylvie Lee (William Morrow, 2019)
By Stephen Hong Sohn
I wouldn’t start this novel (Searching for Sylvie Lee)—Jean Kwok’s third, after Girl in Translation and Mambo in Chinatown—unless you have a lot of time on your hands. Why? Because it’s a mystery plot, as evidenced by the title. We immediately want to find out: what the hell happened to Sylvie Lee?
Let’s let the official site give us some more information before I go further (and spoil lots of things): “A poignant and suspenseful drama that untangles the complicated ties binding three women—two sisters and their mother—in one Chinese immigrant family and explores what happens when the eldest daughter disappears, and a series of family secrets emerge, from the New York Times bestselling author of Girl in Translation. It begins with a mystery. Sylvie, the beautiful, brilliant, successful older daughter of the Lee family, flies to the Netherlands for one final visit with her dying grandmother—and then vanishes. Amy, the sheltered baby of the Lee family, is too young to remember a time when her parents were newly immigrated and too poor to keep Sylvie. Seven years older, Sylvie was raised by a distant relative in a faraway, foreign place, and didn't rejoin her family in America until age nine. Timid and shy, Amy has always looked up to her sister, the fierce and fearless protector who showered her with unconditional love. But what happened to Sylvie? Amy and her parents are distraught and desperate for answers. Sylvie has always looked out for them. Now, it's Amy's turn to help. Terrified yet determined, Amy retraces her sister's movements, flying to the last place Sylvie was seen. But instead of simple answers, she discovers something much more valuable: the truth. Sylvie, the golden girl, kept painful secrets . . . secrets that will reveal more about Amy's complicated family—and herself—than she ever could have imagined. A deeply moving story of family, secrets, identity, and longing, Searching for Sylvie Lee is both a gripping page-turner and a sensitive portrait of an immigrant family. It is a profound exploration of the many ways culture and language can divide us and the impossibility of ever truly knowing someone—especially those we love.”
Well, again, I’ll pause to state that I’ll be spoiling lots of things here and there, so turn away now. First off, Kwok’s gone positively Faulknerian with this particular work, given its complicated explorations of family genealogy, illicit romances, and unrequited loves. Kwok also compels us in her use of shifting first person. The primary perspectives are given to Amy, Sylvie, and their mother Ma. There are also crucial shifts in time. Amy’s and Ma’s first person accounts unfold, for the most part, in chronological time: we’re following them as they help unravel the mystery plot. Sylvie’s is occurring a little bit earlier, giving us the sense of what went on in the period leading up to her disappearance.
We do discover that Sylvie’s been harboring some secrets, ones that increase the possible motives and suspects. First, there’s the estrangement from her husband Jim, who we find out is a domestic abuser. Then, there’s the strange behavior of Sylvie’s Aunt Helena and really Helena’s entire family, including her husband Willem and her son Lukas. Finally, what’s the deal with Lukas’s friend Filip, a talented cello instructor, who seems to have taken a liking to Sylvie? You get the feeling that Jim, Filip, or someone from Aunt Helena’s family could have had a nefarious hand in Sylvie’s disappearance.
Given the fact that I just finished Ruchika Tomar’s A Prayer for Travelers, I guess I was hoping for a more optimistic ending. Despite my personal feelings about how the novel ultimately goes down, you can’t fault Kwok for her faultlessly plotted and paced novel. The characters are multifaceted and brim with the kind of intensity that make for the most enthralling reading experience. Bonus points for taking so-called Asian American literature to the Netherlands, which is a transnational move that I definitely do not recall having read before.
Buy the Book Here.
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

December 7, 2019
A Review of Abbigail N. Rosewood’s If I had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019).
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A Review of Abbigail N. Rosewood’s If I had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019).
By Stephen Hong Sohn
This read was one I picked up and was definitely surprised by. As Vietnamese American writing continues to evolve and develop, the trope of war has receded from more and more of the cultural productions. Such is the case with Abbigail N. Rosewood’s finely wrought and meticulously stylized debut If I had Two Lives (Europa Editions, 2019).
Let’s let the official site give us some context: “This luminous debut novel follows a young woman from her childhood in Vietnam to her life as an immigrant in the United States – and her necessary return to her homeland. As a child, isolated from the world in a secretive military encampment with her distant mother, she turns for affection to a sympathetic soldier and to the only other girl in the camp, forming two friendships that will shape the rest of her life. As a young adult in New York, cut off from her native country and haunted by the scars of her youth, she is still in search of a home. She falls in love with a married woman who is the image of her childhood friend, and follows strangers because they remind her of her soldier. When tragedy arises, she must return to Vietnam to confront the memories of her youth – and recover her identity. An inspiring meditation on love, loss, and the presence of a past that never dies, the novel explores the ancient question: do we value the people in our lives because of who they are, or because of what we need them to be?”
The structure of Rosewood’s novel really unfolds in two main temporal arcs. The first covers the protagonist’s childhood when she is raised in a secluded military encampment alongside her mother. It seems as if her mother is under a form of house arrest in Vietnam, as she had been part of a group who had discovered a form of financial impropriety by those in the upper echelons of government. The protagonist’s young life revolves around 3 people: a young girl who also seems to be connected to the military encampment and the local area; a soldier tasked to keep watch over the girl and her mother; and her mother, who really does not seem to want much to do with the protagonist. Over time, it becomes evident that the political situation is disintegrating so the mother makes the crucial choice to send the protagonist abroad, to live with family members, relatives and friends. This choice is a significant one, as the mother must relinquish any legal ties to her daughter in order for her daughter, the protagonist, to have the best chance at a fresh start (and without the taint of her mother’s past history to follow her). Because of the distance between her and her mother, the daughter’s closest connections are ones that she will replicate in adulthood.
Indeed, as the novel shifts to its second part, we see that the protagonist has found analogues of the soldier and her girl-bestie. In this case, she decides to reside near a Vietnamese neighbor who she thinks looks like the soldier from her childhood. At the same time, the protagonist-narrator develops an intense and intimate friendship with a married woman. You’re not surprised to discover that they will later become more than just friends. The problem with this relationship occurs when it becomes evident that the protagonist-narrator’s best friend wants a child and she wants the protagonist-narrator to be the surrogate mother. Given the protagonist-narrator’s complicated past—and this novel should probably have some sort of trigger warning given some of its delicate contents—you’re not surprised when she at first balks at this request. Over time though, Rosewood develops a very intriguing triangular relationship among the best friend, the protagonist-narrator, and the best friend’s husband. But you can’t help but think this alternative kinship cannot last long.
Our protagonist-narrator’s level of insularity and the unfinished ties she has to her mother loom as a larger ghost over what transpires later on in the novel. Thus, Rosewood fittingly chooses to return the protagonist-narrator to Vietnam. It is there that there is a logical and fulfilling resolution to this novel. Rosewood has some stellar prose, which makes the reading experience an effulgent one. You’ll want to read this kind of novel alongside others that explore the challenges of growing up in isolated circumstances. It immediately brought to mind Esme Weijun Wang’s equally stunning The Borders of Paradise. I’d teach these novels, read these novels, and discuss these novels in tandem.
Buy the Book Here!
Review Author: Review Editor: Gnei Soraya Zarook
If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu

November 25, 2019
A Review of Carlos Bulosan's America is in the Heart (Penguin Classics, 2019)
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A Review of Carlos Bulson's America is in the Heart
By Heejoo Park

So, where do I begin to review a seminal work such as Carlos Bulosan’s America Is in the Heart (1943)?
When I got my hands on an advanced review copy of the Penguin Classics edition, I had recently finished reading AIH in preparation for my PhD exam. The library copy I had borrowed for that occasion was heavily underlined and annotated, which I did not mind at all as it was fascinating to see another reader’s thought process. However, I was excited for this new edition as the publishers have found the best possible contemporary authors – in my opinion – to write the introduction for AIH (Elaine Castillo), Younghill Kang’s East Goes West (Alexander Chee) and John Okada’s No-No Boy (Karen Tei Yamashita). Regarding No-No Boy, however, I do have to mention the dispute over its copyright. As Prof. Shawn Wong reminds us, “The publishing history of the book is almost important as the book itself.” As of now, the University of Washington Press edition of No-No Boy remains the only one with the approval of the Okada estate. For those of you who are interested: 2014 UWP edition includes a foreword by yet another brilliant writer, Ruth Ozeki. The foreword is beautifully written and reminds me so much of Ozeki’s own novel, A Tale for the Time Being.
By way of returning to the discussion of America Is in the Heart, I offer a question posed by Castillo: “Do you remember how old you were when you first read a book that had a character who looked and lived like you in it?” Sometime during May a.k.a. Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month of this year, I also came across an article that asked a similar question: “Who was the first Asian American author you have read?” Surprisingly, it took me a while to come up with answers.
As an Asian Americanist, I often think about the significance of those questions. Having been born and raised in South Korea, I did not have to search hard to find images of myself in Korean literature. Even when I was first transplanted to California at a pre-teen age, I was lucky enough to be introduced to children’s books by Asian American authors such as Laurence Yep and Linda Sue Park. At the time, I did not realize the significance of such lucky literary encounters. However, as an adult, I am both shocked by the lack of BIPOC representation in children’s literature and thrilled by the work of writers who are trying to remedy it. A book that I recently reviewed, Erin Entrada Kelly’s Lalani of the Distant Sea (2019), for instance, is a wonderful new addition to Filipino American children’s literature.
Even with all the reading privilege I had growing up, I can never forget what a life changing experience for me it was to encounter a book such as Susan Choi’s The Foreign Student (1998) in the American college classroom. For Castillo, Bulosan’s America Is in the Heart was THAT book. Yet, to love a book does not mean that you accept it without any criticism, Castillo says: “As a Filipinx writer, I know well that I’m one of Bulosan’s many children; it’s fact that I cherish with my whole heart. I also know that to be part of a family also often means having to fight – and that fighting with your family is sometimes a way of fighting for them.” The title of Castillo’s own debut novel, America is Not in the Heart (2018), perfectly reflects that complexity.
As many critics have noted, America Is in the Heart is a book full of doubles / pairs. What I was fascinated by this time around, however, was how those doubles are in a sort of risqué pas de deaux with one another. The protagonist Allos is not quite Carlos, the author himself, though there are identifiable similarities. Spanish colonialism seems at first to paint American colonialism in a more positive light and yet the tragic events that befall Allos in U.S. suggest otherwise. Filipino bachelors find affinity with Mexican Americans in the migrant farm worker communities. However, that opportunity for cross-ethnic solidarity is marred by the bachelors’ sexual abuse of Native and Mexican American women. As a writer and a character, Carlos /Allos witnesses how the hypersexualization and criminalization of Filipinos result in those men turning into drunkards, gamblers, and womanizers, thereby reinforcing the devastating stereotypes. While there is immense hope for what the America could be for Allos and his community in the novel, there is also despair at how that future may never be realized.
I’ve pointed out all these in random order to simply say, Bulosan’s America is in the Heart is a work that is worth revisiting not just for its status as an Asian American literary canon but also as a reminder that we still are struggling with those tensions in our contemporary moment. Confronting those tensions may make us feel uncomfortable, but this is precisely why we need to do so. Of all my recent book reviews, this was by far the most difficult to find a place to begin and end. So by way of thanking anyone who has spent time with my meandering thoughts, I offer Matthew Salesses’ reading of AIH!
Review Author: Heejoo Park, PhD Candidate in English hpark@ucr.edu
Buy the Book Here: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/600643/america-is-in-the-heart-by-carlos-bulosan-foreword-by-elaine-castillo/

November 24, 2019
A Review of Erin Entrada Kelly's Lalani of the Distant Sea (Greenwillow Books, 2019)
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A Review of Erin Entrada Kelly's Lalani of the Distant Sea (Greenwillow Books, 2019)
By Heejoo Park
Erin Entrada Kelly's books have been on my "to read" list for a while. So, I was thrilled when she came out with a new middle grade fiction this fall, Lalani of the Distant Sea (2019).
"Imagine a place where the binty sing. An island far in the north, where they raise their heads like majestic gods and bring forth the most beautiful birdsong you've ever heard. You don't think birds can sing, do you? It sounds foolish, I know. They Don't sing in Salangita, that's true.... In the north, they have lost nothing. In the north, on Mount Isa, the binty are beautiful. I don't know what makes them sing, and I have never heard it. So, I imagine."
Inspired by Filipino folklore, Lalani of the Distant Sea follows the epic journey of a twelve-year-old girl, Lalani Sarita, who lives on a fictional island called Salangita where the birds do not sing.
No living soul can remember why. However, fate has been unkind to Salangita: rain has stopped coming, crops are withering in the drought, and even the fish are escaping the nets. Under the draconian rule of the menyoro, the villagers have no choice but to continue as they always have. They say benediction to Mount Kahna to stave off its wrath and send their best men to set sail across the Veiled Sea in the hopes of reaching an island called Isa, which is rumored to be bountiful. Yet, in all these years, no one has ever returned.
Only one girl, Ziva, has ever attempted to sail in the history of Salangita. Moreover, Ziva was thrown into the sea not by waves but by the hands of men who believed her to be bad luck. Even though the odds are not in her favor, Lalani decides to cross the Veiled Sea herself when her mother is stricken with a mysterious disease that takes away the lives of menders. Certainly, I could not help but root for Lalani, whose courage comes from her empathy, not just for humans but also for mythical creatures she encounters. Yet, the book is not just about her. Other young characters, such as Veyda, Hetsbi, and Cade, who are left on the island, must also find courage to fight the everyday evil of patriarchy.
Also weaved throughout the stories of all these children are vignettes about mythical creatures that are beautiful, dark, and melancholic. These creatures have all experienced a loss at one point or another like the Salangitans. However, some choose to make peace with it while others seek vengeance, even if it means that innocents suffer along the way. Accompanied by illustrations and told in second person, these vignettes invite the readers to delve deeper into the fantastical world crafted by Kelly. While Lalani of the Distant Sea was much darker than I expected, I loved that it presented a captivating view of the world, in which the good and the evil are often intertwined.
For those of you who are interested in the folklore, here's the link to Erin Entrada Kelly's resources page and The Aswang Project website.
Review Author: Heejoo Park, PhD Candidate in English hpark054@ucr.edu
Buy the Book Here: https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062747273/lalani-of-the-distant-sea/

October 3, 2019
A Review of Maura Milan's Ignite the Stars (AW Teen, 2018)
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A Review of Maura Milan's Ignite the Stars (AW Teen, 2018)
By Heejoo Park

Maura Milan’s debut has already been reviewed on Asian American Lit Fans. However, I am posting this review as a lead-up to the one about its sequel, Eclipse the Skies, which was absolutely heart-wrecking in a good way.
As one might guess from the eye-catching cover, Ignite the Stars is a YA science fiction set in space that has the aura of Star Wars and / or Star Trek. Moreover, Ia Cōcha, who adorns the cover, is a badass POC female character with a dark sense of humor that will grow on the readers. It has almost become a norm in young adult fiction to have empowering female protagonists. Nonetheless, I personally loved that Ia is a character that I haven’t wanted to yell at in a long, long time. She has her flaws as is often the case with teenage heroes who believes they are invincible. However, I found Ia fascinating due to her complex moral compass and her ability to live with her sins, make amends, and learn from her mistakes. It’ll be interesting to follow how Ia and her relationships with two other POV characters, Brinn and Knives, develop over the course of the series.
In the world of Ignite the Stars, the known universe is mostly in control of the Olympus Commonwealth, which is an empire ruled by two queens. Although the Uranium War that decimated several planets has ended by the beginning of the book, OC is nowhere near ceasing its military expansion. It is at that precise moment that Milan pulls us into the world that she has built, which resonates so much with our current political climate. The influx of refugees (Tawnies, Makolions, Dvvins etc.) into the capital star system causes the conservative political parties of the Commonwealth to push for a racist and xenophobic agenda, which leads to mob violence against those who are visibly identifiable as a foreign other. In addition, there are rumors that a slaver nation called the Armadas are planning to wage a war against the Commonwealth. At this point, there is no clear good and bad side as innocent civilians in the Fringe are left to their own devices.
Upon her capture on a Tawny refugee ship, Ia is sent to the Commonwealth’s most prestigious military academy, Aphelion, to be used in the service of imperialist propaganda instead of being left to die in a prison camp. It is there at Aphelion where she meets Brinn and Knives. I loved the dynamic between this unlikely trio that consists of a rebel, an assimilationist, and a bystander.
* spoiler alert *
Especially, I appreciated the careful attention paid to Brinn as a character, who is a half-Tawny with a birth right citizenship. At first, she firmly believes in the values of the Commonwealth and tries to hide her heritage by dying her naturally navy blue hair into brown and making mistakes on her exams. Furthermore, she volunteers to become a soldier of the Royal Star Fleet in order to prove her loyalty. Yet, she gradually begins to doubt the empire’s values the more she spends time with her roommate Ia. Therefore, I absolutely loved her final transformation towards the end of the book.
As everyone would probably agree, Knives is the more predictable character of the two though nonetheless charming for it. I liked that he represents many of the bystanders who know enough to distrust the empire but do not confront their own complicities. However, he, too, is prompted into action when the crisis hits. I am very curious as to how the romance between Ia and Knives will survive this morally complex world. I hope it brings some unexpected twists. But I guess I’ll have to patiently wait for Eclipse the Skies to find out.
Review Author: Heejoo Park, PhD Candidate in English hpark054@ucr.edu
Buy the Book Here: https://www.amazon.com/Ignite-Stars-Maura-Milan/dp/0807536253
