A modestly engaging, well-researched historical novel of Communist China that fails to fulfill its potential.
A once-wealthy family living in 1950s Maoist China attempts to escape to Hong Kong.
It’s the summer of 1957, and 12-year-old Ah Liam Ong is a devoted follower of Chairman Mao and China’s Communist Party. When his severe teacher, Comrade Ang, offers him the opportunity to apply for the Party’s Youth League, Ah Liam rashly submits a story of his once-wealthy grandmother smashing a portrait of the Chairman. The Party’s subsequent investigation couldn’t have come at a worse time. Ah Liam’s father, Ah Zhai, who lives in Hong Kong, has faked a mortal illness to get his family permits to travel—and escape—to Hong Kong. As a result of the increased scrutiny on the family, however, Ah Zhai’s wife, Seok Koon, can only obtain permits for herself, her mother-in-law, and one child. Suddenly, San San, at 9 the youngest member of the family, has been left behind on Drum Wave Islet while her family sails for Hong Kong. After trying to escape with trusted neighbors, San San finds herself on the run from the authorities and confronted with the grim realities of Communist China. Meanwhile, Seok Koon desperately tries to rescue her daughter, all while struggling with her relationship with her estranged husband, and Ah Liam falls in with like-minded leftist students at his new school. This sophomore effort from Chen, a native of Singapore, toggles among the members of the Ong family over the course of their journeys. The novel’s setting is broad and rich as a result of this polyphonous approach, and Chen is clearly fascinated by the historical period. But the sheer number of characters and subplots can also make the novel feel strained and disjointed. The characters are not given equal page time, and as a result, those who appear less often lack development and complexity. San San’s story is particularly action-packed and by far the most gripping. Despite the benefits of polyphonic storytelling, it’s hard not to think that a novel focused solely on San San might have been more compelling.
A modestly engaging, well-researched historical novel of Communist China that fails to fulfill its potential.Pub Date: March 20, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5420-4970-2
Page Count: 299
Publisher: Little A
Review Posted Online: Dec. 23, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2018
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
A tour de force.
In 1974, a troubled Vietnam vet inherits a house from a fallen comrade and moves his family to Alaska.
After years as a prisoner of war, Ernt Allbright returned home to his wife, Cora, and daughter, Leni, a violent, difficult, restless man. The family moved so frequently that 13-year-old Leni went to five schools in four years. But when they move to Alaska, still very wild and sparsely populated, Ernt finds a landscape as raw as he is. As Leni soon realizes, “Everyone up here had two stories: the life before and the life now. If you wanted to pray to a weirdo god or live in a school bus or marry a goose, no one in Alaska was going to say crap to you.” There are many great things about this book—one of them is its constant stream of memorably formulated insights about Alaska. Another key example is delivered by Large Marge, a former prosecutor in Washington, D.C., who now runs the general store for the community of around 30 brave souls who live in Kaneq year-round. As she cautions the Allbrights, “Alaska herself can be Sleeping Beauty one minute and a bitch with a sawed-off shotgun the next. There’s a saying: Up here you can make one mistake. The second one will kill you.” Hannah’s (The Nightingale, 2015, etc.) follow-up to her series of blockbuster bestsellers will thrill her fans with its combination of Greek tragedy, Romeo and Juliet–like coming-of-age story, and domestic potboiler. She re-creates in magical detail the lives of Alaska's homesteaders in both of the state's seasons (they really only have two) and is just as specific and authentic in her depiction of the spiritual wounds of post-Vietnam America.
A tour de force.Pub Date: Feb. 6, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-312-57723-0
Page Count: 448
Publisher: St. Martin's
Review Posted Online: Oct. 30, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2017
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.
A retelling of ancient Greek lore gives exhilarating voice to a witch.
“Monsters are a boon for gods. Imagine all the prayers.” So says Circe, a sly, petulant, and finally commanding voice that narrates the entirety of Miller’s dazzling second novel. The writer returns to Homer, the wellspring that led her to an Orange Prize for The Song of Achilles (2012). This time, she dips into The Odyssey for the legend of Circe, a nymph who turns Odysseus’ crew of men into pigs. The novel, with its distinctive feminist tang, starts with the sentence: “When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Readers will relish following the puzzle of this unpromising daughter of the sun god Helios and his wife, Perse, who had negligible use for their child. It takes banishment to the island Aeaea for Circe to sense her calling as a sorceress: “I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” This lonely, scorned figure learns herbs and potions, surrounds herself with lions, and, in a heart-stopping chapter, outwits the monster Scylla to propel Daedalus and his boat to safety. She makes lovers of Hermes and then two mortal men. She midwifes the birth of the Minotaur on Crete and performs her own C-section. And as she grows in power, she muses that “not even Odysseus could talk his way past [her] witchcraft. He had talked his way past the witch instead.” Circe’s fascination with mortals becomes the book’s marrow and delivers its thrilling ending. All the while, the supernatural sits intriguingly alongside “the tonic of ordinary things.” A few passages coil toward melodrama, and one inelegant line after a rape seems jarringly modern, but the spell holds fast. Expect Miller’s readership to mushroom like one of Circe’s spells.
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.Pub Date: April 10, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-316-55634-7
Page Count: 400
Publisher: Little, Brown
Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018
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