Book Review: King of the Armadillos

 By Wendy Chin-Tanner

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: Irvington Vinyl & Books, Indianapolis 

• Why I bought this book: It's about Chinese immigrants in the Bronx, and it has a great title.*

 *******

    Hansen's disease has been around at least since Biblical times, and it's always been seen as a nasty, frightful, and stigmatizing sickness. It attacks both the body and mind, with painful skin lesions, muscular weakening, growths on or swelling of the nerves or skin, and potential blindness. 

    Formerly called leprosy, those afflicted had been damned as lepers. It was believed to be caused by sinful actions, wrongly thought to be highly contagious, and, more recently, to be spread by people from China.

    That last part is particularly meaningful to this novel, which tells the story of an immigrant Chinese boy who contracts the disease in 1950s New York.

    This self-enclosed novel takes places in that period, and oftentimes brings in the characters' pasts to explain their actions and choices. And those choices matter, whether immediately or sometime in the future. And while time goes by, we see the results and longer term implications of those decisions. 

    Victor Chin is the young boy who emigrated from China to New York with his father, Sam, and older brother Henry. Sam's wife and the boys' mother, Mei, stays behind in their  Chinese village of family obligations. She writes often, and everyone plans for her to one day join them in America.

    Sam works in and later buys a Chinese laundry. There, he meet Ruth, a Jewish woman who soon becomes his lover, and a maternal figure to the two boys.

    But their lives are turned upside down when Victor contracts Hansen's and is sent to a sanatorium in Carville, La.

    It is here where the story begins to move quickly. Victor finds friends, perhaps love, continues to write (never mentioning his disease) to his mother in China, and finds a new relationship with Ruth. He also exhibits a growing independence from his family in New York, and a love and genius for music.

He'd never been exposed to much religion, ... but Victor thought there might be something spiritual about what music made him feel. Maybe that was what people meant when they said they felt the presence of God. A feeling of not being alone, a feeling of being safe. A feeling that there, in the temple of sound he visited when he listened or played, he could let go of what he'd been holding on to so tightly.

    This is the strength of the tale, the heart and soul of the story. Victor begins to find his place in the world, and while knowing that his family may always be there, knows he must take control of his life. We learn more about the background of the other characters, and where they come from.

    Now, it is Victor's turn to stake out his life, to grow up, to come of age as a Chinese immigrant in American.

    The writing here is superb, and the story is about a life -- making decisions, growing and learning, not knowing what the future may portend, but willing to move forward while holding on to the memories and places and people that helped make you.

---------------------------------------------------

    *He considers himself the King of the Armadillos and takes them as a mascot after learning they are one of the few mammals, beside humans, who contract Hansen's disease.

Book Review: Yellowface

  By R. F. Kuang

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: Author's appearance, via the Novel Neighbor, Webster Groves, Mo. 

• Why I bought this book: I read Babel by the same author, and it was fantastic

****

    Every novel I've read about the publishing industry describes it as a steaming pile of horrors, awash with infighting, backstabbing, and bigotry. This one is no different.

    Still, Yellowface was disappointing. Kuang's previous work, Babel, was indeed worthy of high praise. So when she announced a tour to promote her latest book, I headed to the nearest location, Saint Louis, to listen to her speak. It was worth it.

    So I eagerly read her latest, which delved into issues of diversity, inclusion, and cultural appropriation. It was meant to be a light-hearted look at the industry and how it handles the works of female and minority authors. I am sorry to say it fell flat.

    It was bitter. It was whingey. It was lies, piled on top of thievery, with a heavy helping of social media vitriol, all with attempted justification. The main character, manuscript stealer June Haywood, comprised all of those traits, and then some.

    She was friends with the vibrant and beautiful, best-selling and highly praised author Athena Liu. Then one night, while partying at Liu's luxurious and spacious apartment, Liu chokes on a piece of food and dies. Liu, of Chinese descent, had told Haywood she was celebrating because she had finished the first draft of her new novel about Chinese forced laborers in World War I.

    After calling authorities and explaining how Liu died, Haywood was cleared of the death. As she left the apartment, she took Liu's manuscript with her.

    She did some research, edited it and cleaned it up, then presented it to publishers as her own. Publishers were wowed and gave her a big advance, and suggested she used the name Juniper Song -- a variation of her birth name -- to make her sound more ethnic. They used a photograph that made her look vaguely Asian.

    While enjoying all the attentions, Song also becomes afraid of being caught, using underhanded means to keep the truth hidden. Some readers either figure it out, or have inside knowledge of her deceit, and much of it is hashed out on social media.

    We follow Song along her path, as she struggles to come to grips with what she has wrought. We also follow her and others on social media, and they direct criticism, bigotry, and at times threats and hate about her book and ethnicity. 

    But because of her actions, and her deception, it's hard to care for or about her or the path she has chosen.