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Oriental Girls Desire Romance
Catherine Liu's novel is a modern day Inferno that weaves a complex and dark vision of urban life."It's encouraging that Liu's... promising debut has been published. It's a small, hopeful sign that perhaps in the future, the literary landscape might be wide enough to accommodate the notion of an Asian woman who doesn't bow down to expectations."--Melissa de la Cruz, Feedmag .
345 pages, Paperback
First published November 2, 1997
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About the author
Catherine Liu
25 books165 followersCatherine Liu is the director of the University of California Irvine’s Humanities Center, a professor in Film and Media Studies, and the coeditor of The Dreams of Interpretation: A Century Down the Royal Road. She is the author of Oriental Girls Desire Romance (a novel), Copying Machines: Taking Notes for the Automaton, and American Idyll: Academic Antielitism as Cultural Critique.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
January 30, 2013
So I didn't read Oriental Girls Desire Romance in two nights like Kathy Acker did; I read it fast-yet-slow in four, and I kept bringing the book up in conversations because it was like talking about myself and beyond. Catherine Liu takes you, introspectively, through themes of relationships, love, sex (the parts most resonating to me), trying to be a writer but being held back by so many things (another "ugh, yes!" moment), troubled family dynamics, disconnecting friendships, not having enough money, thinking of her year teaching English in Beijing, all the U.S./China relations, graduate school, the weight of her experience, all told with a very real and "likeable," voice. I identified so much with Our Heroine, thinking, wow, holy shit, this is the novel I've been imagining I wanted to read! and write!
A Chinese-American woman in her twenties, in a city, feeling inexperienced, impatient, ambitious but lazy and talentless, looking for something to happen, not knowing what, and sometimes for lack of anything better to do, she says yes to social opportunities like first dates for free dinner (I love when she lists food in detail, making you want exactly that dish), free and convenient cocaine in a cab, meeting at a party an arrogant activist-y Italian man who thinks he knows literature and compassion who seems to be the first one to break her heart. The difficulty of reconciling your rational thoughts with irrational behavior when you draw toward him despite knowing that you shouldn't, as he is indifferent to you. How at first he was the one to initiate everything with her, back when she was the one who didn't care much, until he hooked her, and now he doesn't want her, and now she's leaving a message on his answering machine that it's over between them, realizing how unoriginal it is, how he never verbally stated what he wanted and instead he duped her into saying aloud what he wants, not what she wants.
The narrator walking and talking with someone (I enjoy these scenes because I do this a lot, too, irl), admiring strong female professors, watching drag queen shows, thinking of people she knows in general and their personalities and hopes and setbacks, window shopping longingly, the rich Susannah who appears in the "Vampire" story who can have any woman she wants it seems but always needs new flesh and blood, who was almost a perfect lover. Joe—once the book reaches Joe, I became terrified to be like what Joe was to the narrator: dumb, boring, safe, Midwestern, no conversational skills, not very fashionable, a body in her bed that she got used to holding but whose presence became the source of her irritation. At this part, I thought, "Wow. I cannot be with anyone ever. I would rather be alone than be someone's Joe. I'm glad I'm alone right now."
It wasn't until I got to the final "Go-Go" story about the narrator dancing and stripping for good cash that I understood the book was not told in order, that the "chapters" were really like memories, short stories, but why did "Go-Go" have to be the closing remark? I'm not entirely bothered about it, maybe it's trying to say something about life being #dark, but it left me feeling hollower but with a longing to be a go-go dancer, too, in an alternative universe. This is a "figuring things out" book, a "making mistakes" and "growing up" book. There's a part where the narrator is irresponsible with her scarce money and decides to spend it on a little strapless dress made of fabric that's deep blue and green and red on a black background. A kind of tropical print, she says. A dress to surprise a husband during a rendezvous, she daydreams, a dress for a movie star.
I'm disappointed to see a lot of one-star ratings on here, probably a result of this book being listed on a syllabus, reaching a classroom audience that should read it yet who should not read it. I don't know. For someone who's reading through these, unsure of whether to give this book a chance because of the low stars, I'm hoping my review will influence you otherwise. I personally judged this book for its design until I saw the Kathy Acker blurb on the back, I'm sorry I did that. It feels like perfect timing for me to have read the book now, being 25, being, being. . .
This book could have (should have!) ended with that "M.B.A." story, in which the final paragraph is:
I had not imagined that my life would turn out this way. Sometimes I felt as if anything was possible, that I was going to be something in the world, something wonderful. My ideas about this something wonderful were variable and ill-defined, ranging from brilliant film director to brilliant Lacanian analyst. I was such a good daydreamer. At other times, I wondered how long I could continue to do what I was doing. My existence would suddenly appear fragile and without support, but I couldn't focus for long on what it all meant or what I wanted; my thoughts were too restless to stay put. I began to suspect a congenital defect, but I was happy when I went out dancing that summer. Because I was very young, when I was wearing my beautiful strapless dress, i could always manage to pretend that I didn't have a care in the world.
A Chinese-American woman in her twenties, in a city, feeling inexperienced, impatient, ambitious but lazy and talentless, looking for something to happen, not knowing what, and sometimes for lack of anything better to do, she says yes to social opportunities like first dates for free dinner (I love when she lists food in detail, making you want exactly that dish), free and convenient cocaine in a cab, meeting at a party an arrogant activist-y Italian man who thinks he knows literature and compassion who seems to be the first one to break her heart. The difficulty of reconciling your rational thoughts with irrational behavior when you draw toward him despite knowing that you shouldn't, as he is indifferent to you. How at first he was the one to initiate everything with her, back when she was the one who didn't care much, until he hooked her, and now he doesn't want her, and now she's leaving a message on his answering machine that it's over between them, realizing how unoriginal it is, how he never verbally stated what he wanted and instead he duped her into saying aloud what he wants, not what she wants.
The narrator walking and talking with someone (I enjoy these scenes because I do this a lot, too, irl), admiring strong female professors, watching drag queen shows, thinking of people she knows in general and their personalities and hopes and setbacks, window shopping longingly, the rich Susannah who appears in the "Vampire" story who can have any woman she wants it seems but always needs new flesh and blood, who was almost a perfect lover. Joe—once the book reaches Joe, I became terrified to be like what Joe was to the narrator: dumb, boring, safe, Midwestern, no conversational skills, not very fashionable, a body in her bed that she got used to holding but whose presence became the source of her irritation. At this part, I thought, "Wow. I cannot be with anyone ever. I would rather be alone than be someone's Joe. I'm glad I'm alone right now."
It wasn't until I got to the final "Go-Go" story about the narrator dancing and stripping for good cash that I understood the book was not told in order, that the "chapters" were really like memories, short stories, but why did "Go-Go" have to be the closing remark? I'm not entirely bothered about it, maybe it's trying to say something about life being #dark, but it left me feeling hollower but with a longing to be a go-go dancer, too, in an alternative universe. This is a "figuring things out" book, a "making mistakes" and "growing up" book. There's a part where the narrator is irresponsible with her scarce money and decides to spend it on a little strapless dress made of fabric that's deep blue and green and red on a black background. A kind of tropical print, she says. A dress to surprise a husband during a rendezvous, she daydreams, a dress for a movie star.
I'm disappointed to see a lot of one-star ratings on here, probably a result of this book being listed on a syllabus, reaching a classroom audience that should read it yet who should not read it. I don't know. For someone who's reading through these, unsure of whether to give this book a chance because of the low stars, I'm hoping my review will influence you otherwise. I personally judged this book for its design until I saw the Kathy Acker blurb on the back, I'm sorry I did that. It feels like perfect timing for me to have read the book now, being 25, being, being. . .
This book could have (should have!) ended with that "M.B.A." story, in which the final paragraph is:
I had not imagined that my life would turn out this way. Sometimes I felt as if anything was possible, that I was going to be something in the world, something wonderful. My ideas about this something wonderful were variable and ill-defined, ranging from brilliant film director to brilliant Lacanian analyst. I was such a good daydreamer. At other times, I wondered how long I could continue to do what I was doing. My existence would suddenly appear fragile and without support, but I couldn't focus for long on what it all meant or what I wanted; my thoughts were too restless to stay put. I began to suspect a congenital defect, but I was happy when I went out dancing that summer. Because I was very young, when I was wearing my beautiful strapless dress, i could always manage to pretend that I didn't have a care in the world.
June 20, 2007
Catherine Liu, can you please write another novel?
August 17, 2011
I loved this book, even though I can imagine lots of people being turned off by it. It follows a young, unnamed Chinese American narrator through her aimless, troubled existence in NYC in the eighties. The novel just ends--it's mostly in her head, nothing really happens, and she doesn't really grow or change. But I found her so relatable, embarrassingly so. In fact, for much of it, I felt like I was reading the diary of my depressed, self-indulgent 19-year-old self lost in SF. Liu gets so many things exactly right. And there's something real, powerful, and satisfying about how this character has the potential to do something more or be something else, but just doesn't.
Read
January 17, 2021something uniquely delicious about getting to indulge in a novel whose narrator’s internal monologue is SO similar to your own from the jump that it feels totally humiliating! this was a very interesting reading experience in that the thing I loved most about this novel was getting to experience that conspiratorial pleasure, which felt like engaging in a slightly cruel conversation w/ a close friend in that reading it was like ... a dangerously affirming/resonant feeling. probably underlined half the lines in this book & am very glad I read this at age 22, which feels like the perfect time to be reading a book like this — any younger & I wouldn’t experience the clarity of such thorough recognition; any older & I think I’d be more frustrated w/ the narrative self-indulgence & obvious disinterest in furnishing any kind of broad moralization (not a dig btw, I find both features extremely charming! just a prediction about the kind of books I’ll crave when I’m like, in my thirties & will hopefully have done enough to no longer crave the lifestyle of an unrepentantly reckless party girl).
even though I’m certain I loved this book, weirdly enough I feel like I can’t offer an objective review of it precisely because of that too-closeness — I don’t think I’ve been able to feel that sheer level of identification w/ any piece of media I’ve consumed, like ever! which is such an alien pleasure. the narrator’s relentless self-examination, her longing for a life filled w/ tawdry melodrama that at its heart is a deeply juvenile impulse, her prodigious literary ambition that’s never actually fully realized ... lol. interesting that the book doesn’t really seem to grant us any broader change or revelation, outside of some newfound self-awareness that she really does want to be a writer & of the reality that all her relationships w/ men involve a great deal of self-assuaging fabulism on her part in order to maintain their intrigue. to be clear, I don’t think that’s a problem! just think it’s funny that I feel like I have to grasp for ways to classify my liking of this book when all the usual features I can identify as Good in novels that I feel capable of retaining a safe critical distance from — e.g. thematic coherence, good construction, profound edification, etc. — feel like such bloodless & inadequate descriptors here. something really dazzling & luxuriously unknowable about getting to lose myself in this! also, just now decided I’m amending my earlier prediction that I wouldn’t like this if I was older — I actually can’t wait to return to this again & again just to check if it retains that magical effect. if not, I guess my initial margin notes + this review will be testament to just how deeply I felt about it upon first reading & that initial record of enchantment will come across as very naive & silly, which I for one cannot wait to experience
even though I’m certain I loved this book, weirdly enough I feel like I can’t offer an objective review of it precisely because of that too-closeness — I don’t think I’ve been able to feel that sheer level of identification w/ any piece of media I’ve consumed, like ever! which is such an alien pleasure. the narrator’s relentless self-examination, her longing for a life filled w/ tawdry melodrama that at its heart is a deeply juvenile impulse, her prodigious literary ambition that’s never actually fully realized ... lol. interesting that the book doesn’t really seem to grant us any broader change or revelation, outside of some newfound self-awareness that she really does want to be a writer & of the reality that all her relationships w/ men involve a great deal of self-assuaging fabulism on her part in order to maintain their intrigue. to be clear, I don’t think that’s a problem! just think it’s funny that I feel like I have to grasp for ways to classify my liking of this book when all the usual features I can identify as Good in novels that I feel capable of retaining a safe critical distance from — e.g. thematic coherence, good construction, profound edification, etc. — feel like such bloodless & inadequate descriptors here. something really dazzling & luxuriously unknowable about getting to lose myself in this! also, just now decided I’m amending my earlier prediction that I wouldn’t like this if I was older — I actually can’t wait to return to this again & again just to check if it retains that magical effect. if not, I guess my initial margin notes + this review will be testament to just how deeply I felt about it upon first reading & that initial record of enchantment will come across as very naive & silly, which I for one cannot wait to experience
September 3, 2007
Intense introspection isn't for everyone but if it's a personal habit, you'll be on familiar ground.
March 17, 2021
At a speed junkie's pace, Liu's protagonist examines sex, money and communism in this coming-of-age novel. Running from the politics of identity at every turn, she flings herself into the yawning jaws of 1980's New York City.
'The beat of the music pounded in the place where everyone's heart should have been, and blood flowed through nicotine-constricted veins.
The money was what made sense of everything.'
'The beat of the music pounded in the place where everyone's heart should have been, and blood flowed through nicotine-constricted veins.
The money was what made sense of everything.'
September 20, 2013
Some parts resonated with me more than others, but overall definitely a book I'd recommend. I love her writing and insights, and it was fascinating seeing the overlaps with Eating Chinese Food Naked.
September 15, 2015
It's like some avant garde coming of age story that ends before the coming of age part.
October 4, 2021
catherline liu has a way with adjectives and character descriptions but when a book lacks plot, it should at least be able to make me think about the world differently - which it failed to do.
August 1, 2019
I don't remember how I found this book in the first place, although Goodreads informs me that I added it to my to-read list on January 1st, 2013. I was then, as I am now, incredibly single, and was drawn to the title of the book, and almost nothing else.
I both deeply sympathized with and deeply failed to connect with the narrator of the novel, who spent a lot of the book feeling lost, and sleeping with and spending time people who didn't really care about her. I think it was the style of the book that lost me more than anything - it has a floaty, distant quality to it that I really strongly dislike in books. My favorite kinds of books draw me in and immerse me in another world, and this book is the exact opposite - it kept me at a distance, never quite letting me in. In a way, it mirrors the way the narrator lives her life, and although it would be interesting to maybe analyze the style of the book in an English class or what-have-you, as a single reader (hah - not in the sense of the title of the book) it just fell a bit flat.
I both deeply sympathized with and deeply failed to connect with the narrator of the novel, who spent a lot of the book feeling lost, and sleeping with and spending time people who didn't really care about her. I think it was the style of the book that lost me more than anything - it has a floaty, distant quality to it that I really strongly dislike in books. My favorite kinds of books draw me in and immerse me in another world, and this book is the exact opposite - it kept me at a distance, never quite letting me in. In a way, it mirrors the way the narrator lives her life, and although it would be interesting to maybe analyze the style of the book in an English class or what-have-you, as a single reader (hah - not in the sense of the title of the book) it just fell a bit flat.
August 19, 2022
I found this book in a box on the sidewalk in brooklyn in 2016. It's stayed with me every since. I've reread it so many times I've lost count. beautiful and captures an ennui of being a young woman who's just spinning her wheels and looking for love in all the wrong places. I love this book.
July 3, 2021
I felt so seen. Written so beautifully and originally. Felt kin to watching an indie movie like Frances Ha but more real, AKA exactly what i've been looking for in a novel.
Read
February 10, 2023Disappointed a little. Still trying to figure out the exact intentions and themes the author was trying to go for.
February 18, 2025
OOF. a fever dream of a book, but it will stick with me for a long time
March 19, 2025
i've never read a literary mother so like my mother omg
February 26, 2025
reading this book was like existing in a fugue state. it was dream-like, but so real, adding or subtracting a few details. i’m not sure if i like how this book ended, but i think i might not care because reading this book was like a comforting hug.
July 6, 2007
The novel consists of a bunch of episodes in which the narrator does seedy things between bouts of extended navel-gazing in order to convince herself that she's independent and edgy instead of a self-absorbed princess. The episodes exist independently of one another and don't build up to anything. The novel just ends without any sort of climax or change. It really could have ended at any point before the final sentence because there's no internal structure. Frustrating.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews