Born a Crime - Trevor Noah (2016)

An absolute gem! This was highly informative of the aftermath of apartheid in South Africa, but personal and intimate through the lenses of a somewhat special (as he belonged to the minority “colored” group) but still representative of the common experience. Trevor Noah demonstrates a lot of courage and bluntness in the descriptions of his upbringing, teenage ventures, and family difficulties. Even the closing story, which I imagine must have been torturous to put on paper and read out loud, was well-crafted and touching. The dramatic effect of his story-telling is very powerful and cinematic, and listening to the audiobook only heightened the experience. It’s memoirs like these that remind me (both in itself and through itself) of the importance of language. He embodies this through sharing so many instances where speaking the language of others bring them to drop their preconceived impressions and draw them closer. (The funniest story is by far the one with his dancer friend Hitler.)

Educated - Tara Westover (2018)

This is a memoir about Tara’s experience growing up in a Mormon survivalist household in rural Idaho and her tale of self-education to re-write her fate. Not only is it astonishing how she secretly taught herself everything public education taught her peers, but it’s mind-blowing to read first-hand evidence of her eloquence and verbal sensitivity. Tara’s writing has a kind ambiguity that calms describes her family struggles. She defends the integrity of even the most absurd of her father’s beliefs, reminding us to make a distinction between a person’s character and views.

What is an education? I’ve been thinking about this ever since finishing the book, and I’m thankful that it’s provided a dramatic example of what each of us should open ourselves up to as we receive our education. Tara’s experience illustrates the power of relearning our lives and exploring all the alternatives there are to the way we were raised. The point isn’t that Tara elevated from home school to Cambridge, but that she opened her eyes to the possibilities and made a conscious decision of what she preferred for herself. There is no black-or-white dichotomy of what’s right or wrong, nor is there a linear path that’s optimal for each individual. Instead, like Tara reminds us with her memoir, is the will to view your life anew and change it for your betterment. 

Dear Girls - Ali Wong (2019)

This is a hilarious but surprisingly touching collection of letters comedian and actress Ali Wong wrote for her young daughters. She covers life lessons she’s learned as a Vietnamese-Chinese American women pursuing a professional career as a stand-up comedian. Her humor carries through exceptionally well, especially when she’s dishing out the raunchy details of her past sex life, anecdotes from her childhood and family, as well as the bumps on the way to her eventual success as an entertainer. I was personally most drawn to the tenderness in her voice as she spoke about family, sacrifice, her relationship with her husband, and her wishes for her daughters. You wouldn’t expect a stand-up comedian to move you in any way other than laughter, but Ali Wong’s wisdom perhaps lies not only her reflections on her past, but also in branding herself as more than an entertainer onstage.

This book helps put the concept of representation into perspective for me. On the micro scale, we read about her making her way up the ranks in the comedian world, which is dominated by white males who are seemingly free of being seen first and foremost through their race. She offers advice to those aspiring to climb the ladder—don’t stay in the comfortability of your community, whether it’s defined by race, location, or experience. At the same time, stay close to that community, because that’s your source of inspiration and camaraderie. Ali warns about the dangerous comfortability of limiting yourself to a certain demographic, hindering your growth and potential to influence a wider audience. On a macro scale, her advice applies to fields beyond just entertainment. Bottom line? Representation is important, but so is individuality—oftentimes you need to go beyond your category to uplift it.

Ali Wong’s (sometimes crude) humor wins my heart for its brutal honesty and I’m now looking forward to watching her perform!

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress - Dai Sijie (2000)

A sweet and short story that, for me personally, strikes hard at the very last page. The simplicity of the characters and plot make it read almost like a fable, while the setting and social backdrop are heavily dependent on the reader’s understanding of contemporary history. I’m most surprised by the romantic tone of the narration, which made the story seem (a bit too?) easy for Western readers to sympathize with. I wouldn’t be surprised, as it was written originally in French and undoubtedly intended for a non-Chinese audience. I’m very pleased by the poetic writing but disappointed in the oversimplification or rather abbreviation of the nuances of that specific historical period. The social milieu was washed off and replaced with a very vanilla variation of it that lacked the subtlety and complexity that I believe it should have had. Thankfully, this didn’t have a huge impact on the story itself, which was beautiful in itself and continues to echo in my mind.

As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner (1930)

I’ve always had the hardest time understanding Faulkner, and this time around I was pleased to at least understand the plot. What struck me most was the fleetingness of identity—the same person can be perceived as so many different things, and the same name can switch from one object to the next at the blink of an eye. The ending captures this perfectly, as commonly discussed. Surprisingly, I was most struck by Addie Bundren’s one and only narrative section. Her inner turmoil and response to Cora Tull’s denouncement speaks to the same theme—the variability and insincerity of words. It’s strange that the whole book revolves around her death and we hear but one section of her narration, yet her character is among the most poignant among the entire cast. I’m still perplexed by this novel, but it surely has much more to explore.

The Snow Goose - Paul Gallico (1941)

Short and beautiful story set in the time leading up the evacuation of Dunkirk in WWII. The writing was captivating in some parts and confusingly drab in others, though it is still generally engaging. Some question its status as a forgotten classic, but I wonder whether Gallico’s genius was in his promptness and historical foresight.

Leftover in China: The Women Shaping the World's Next Superpower - Roseann Lake (2018)

It’s interesting to see China from an outsider’s perspective, as it provides a clarity of circumstance and motivations that would otherwise have been muddled up in my limited view of our culture. I was otherwise unimpressed by the lack of male perspective in this book, which sculpts out the characters and viewpoints of certain women intricately but writes Chinese men off as a statistic. Given the topic of marriage, the single-mindedness of this book is apparent. Is there any work of writing that can capture the myriad ways Chinese women live between tradition and their reality? I’ve yet to discover one. Finally, a witty quote Lake cites in the middle of her book: 

“Men are looking for women that have ceased to exist and women are looking for men that have yet to exist.”

—Albert Esteve

The Year 1000: When Explorers Connected the World—and Globalization Began - Valerie Hansen (2020)

Fascinating read that provides a new perspective and narration of globalization. The material is detailed, relevant, and woven together into a beautiful story of individuals, cultures, and the artifacts that sprung from their interactions.