A finalist for the 2022 National Book Critics Circle Award in Autobiography
"Absolutely extraordinary...A landmark in the contemporary literature of the diaspora." —Jia Tolentino, author of Trick Mirror
"If Concepcion were only about Samaha's mother, it would already be wholly worthwhile. But she was one of eight children in the Concepcion family, whose ancestry Samaha traces in this. . . powerful book." - The New York Times
A journalist's powerful and incisive account reframes how we comprehend the immigrant experience
Nearing the age at which his mother had migrated to the US, part of the wave of non-Europeans who arrived after immigration quotas were relaxed in 1965, Albert Samaha began to question the ironclad belief in a better future that had inspired her family to uproot themselves from their birthplace. As she, her brother Spanky—a rising pop star back in Manila, now working as a luggage handler at San Francisco airport—and others of their generation struggled with setbacks amid mounting instability that seemed to keep prosperity ever out of reach , he wondered whether their decision to abandon a middle-class existence in the Philippines had been worth the cost.
Tracing his family's history through the region's unique geopolitical roots in Spanish colonialism, American intervention, and Japanese occupation, Samaha fits their arc into the wider story of global migration as determined by chess moves among superpowers. Ambitious, intimate, and incisive, Concepcion explores what it might mean to reckon with the unjust legacy of imperialism, to live with contradiction and hope, to fight for the unrealized ideals of an inherited homeland.
As a fan of family sagas and immigration stories, I had high hopes for this book. Sadly, it was just not for me. It read like an amateur memoir that would be interesting to family and no one else. I found it incredibly boring and impossible to finish, because it was hundreds of pages of "uncle x did this, grandma y did this, then uncles a and b started this"... but like, no reason for us to care? There was little development of individual characters (I got them confused a lot, since the timeline kept jumping around), no interiority to their experience, not even any deep reflection on the author's relationship to his family's experience (there was some, but it was very surface level). I felt like it was all narrative and no analysis.
The most interesting parts of the book for me were 1) really specific family anecdotes that would make good short stories, like how his mom pawned her jewelry and he had to help her get it back, and 2) the general history of the Philippines and how his family felt about and responded to political changes, etc (this was the book I WANTED to read, the really interesting part) but that story kept being cut off by stupid things like how long each relative's commute was when they moved to the Bay Area.
Halfway through the book, I skipped to the end looking for some kind of conclusion/ analysis section that wrapped it all up, and there was just... not much? A couple pages maybe. I was left unsatisfied and unsure of what I was supposed to take away from this. Family immigrates to the USA even though they were well off in their home country, only to find the American dream is a lie and they have to struggle in poverty forever now? But can't admit it to themselves because of sunk cost fallacy or something? Immigrant parents move to give their kids better opportunities and then get mad when those kids adopt the values of their new home countries? Pretty stereotypical themes, and not addressed in an interesting way. Sigh.
What I liked best here: (1) the everyday conversations between the narrator and his various relatives; and (2) the nuanced juxtapositioning not just of Filipino and White culture but both of them relative to US black culture; (3) the inter-generational tensions within the Filipino community; and (4) the narrator's willingness to explore his mother's devotion to Trump. All insightful and uncovering valuable knowledge.
There is the history of colonialism, but I didn't need much of it even if it was necessary for the overall context.
This is an excellent meld of historical nonfiction and memoir. The way Samaha aligns Phillipine history with the story of his family is poignant. It is a definite must-read if you're looking to learn about how colonialism impacted the Phillipines, which is rarely taught extensively in U.S. education.
A fascinating story that blends family history with world history, using the reasons for and consequences of colonialism to put current family dynamics into context. A well-written book from a perspective that was both familiar (pop culture references to early 2900s in California) and decidedly foreign (ties to native Philippines royalty and relatives who led amazingly cosmopolitan lives).
It's funny to me how a blurb by Jia Tolentino is on the cover of my copy of this book. Because Albert Samaha takes the Filipino diaspora literature a few steps further – he confronted how his upbringing reflects imperialist propaganda, in ways Jia Tolentino (who defended her human trafficker parents) couldn't. I feel his love for his family, while unflinchingly criticizing how they chose to live with the understanding that they are but byproducts of the American Dream sold to them. This is the kind of writing I wish I could produce.