A Book A Week

Occasionally, a book emerges that feels perfectly attuned to the current cultural landscape. R.F. Kuang's Yellowface is one such example. Since its release last year, it has garnered both critical acclaim and commercial success, quickly establishing itself as a must-read that encapsulates the spirit of the times. While it had been on my radar since its publication, I only recently had the opportunity to delve into its pages. In just a few days, I found myself completely absorbed by its narrative, understanding immediately why it resonated so deeply with readers.

June Hayward has always lived in the shadow of Athena Liu, her college classmate and literary rival. While Athena soared to success with one acclaimed novel after another, June's own writing career languished in obscurity. Their friendship, if it could be called that, was tinged with June's bitter envy of Athena's achievements.

One fateful evening at Athena's apartment in D.C., tragedy strikes when Athena suddenly chokes and dies. In shock and disbelief, June finds herself alone with Athena's latest manuscript—a groundbreaking work highlighting the forgotten contributions of Chinese laborers in World War I. Without a second thought, June decides to seize the opportunity fate has presented her. She takes the manuscript and a few other papers, imagining a future where she submits it to her publisher under her own name. After all, Athena no longer needs it, and June sees it as her chance to finally claim the success she believes she deserves. What could possibly go wrong?

Ironically, the central premise of Yellowface felt reminiscent of Jean Hanff Korelitz's The Plot, a book I had previously read. However, as I delved into R.F. Kuang's narrative, I quickly realized that she was using this familiar storyline to explore much deeper themes. Yellowface serves as a scathing commentary on tokenism in publishing, shining a spotlight on the industry's tendency to prioritize diversity for the sake of appearance rather than genuine inclusivity.

As June's deceit unfolds, she finds herself buoyed by an industry eager to blur her cultural identity for profit. Kuang skillfully interrogates the concept of ownership in storytelling, questioning who has the right to tell certain narratives and whose voices are amplified or silenced by the publishing world and social media. It's a thought-provoking examination of power dynamics and the consequences of chasing fame at any cost.

The novel is told from June's morally dubious perspective. She's not a traditionally likable character, and readers are keenly aware of the wrongness of her choices. Yet, there's an undeniable magnetism to her story that kept me engaged. While Yellowface may have echoes of familiar narratives, Kuang infuses it with profound insights that elevate it beyond mere familiarity. The result is a compelling and thought-provoking read that lingers in the mind long after the final page is turned.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 39)