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"In the wake of the police shooting of a black teenager, Los Angeles is as tense as it's been since the unrest of the early 1990s. But Grace Park and Shawn Matthews have their own problems. Grace is sheltered and largely oblivious, living in the Valley with her Korean-immigrant parents, working long hours at the family pharmacy. She's distraught that her sister hasn't spoken to their mother in two years, for reasons beyond Grace's understanding. Shawn has already had enough of politics and protest after an act of violence shattered his family years ago. He just wants to be left alone to enjoy his quiet life in Palmdale. But when another shocking crime hits LA, both the Park and Matthews families are forced to face down their history while navigating the tumult of a city on the brink of more violence"--… (more)
User reviews
Decades later, Ava's brother Shawn has built a life for himself, a steady job, a family and a determination to keep things calm. And Grace is a pharmacist, living with her parents and working in their small pharmacy. Her older sister is estranged from their mother, and no one in the family will tell her why.
Cha has written a novel that directly confronts how racism affects us today, and how wounds that are not treated will fester. It's a novel that embraces nuance and uncomfortable areas alike, diving into Korean American culture, and how disenfranchisement and racism fuels violence. There were several moments that made me uncomfortable and Cha didn't flinch from making her characters deeply flawed. This novel gave me a lot to think about.
"That don't mean shit."
The genesis of this book is non-fiction: In 1991, Latasha Harlins was shot and killed by a store owner named Soon Ja Du. This sparked all sorts of nationalist and racist tension and violence, naturally contrasted
Cha's book jumps off from that event but expands it into a fictional work that reaches for the sublime. By subtly displaying how humans often interact in different groups—be it in the family, at work, with our loves, other groups of people, the police, the justice system—through means of everyday language that would make Mark Twain proud, Cha has made a book that is not only intricate but simple to follow.
The reader is thrown into action and quickly learns who's who. Racial tension is brought to the surface in a way that makes me, a 42-year-old Swedish citizen, taste more than the visceral shocks to the system that Cha's simple and highly effective plot and dialogue generate.
One of the most radiant methods that Cha uses throughout the book is to show how divides are not only created between constructs like "race" and "nationality", but also between family members (e.g. the mother-daughter relationship), in heterosexuality (e.g. how men and women can interact differently than men with only men, and women with only women), in police departments, in the justice system, and even between different eras. Naturally, all of these divides between humans are merely socially constructed, and Cha highlights that fact beautifully.
Miriam was so American she renounced her own mother—a capital crime, pretty much, in a Confucian culture.
The simplicity in the writing is this book's greatest grace and provides the best framing for the story, which is simple and would undoubtedly have foiled, were it not for the author's skills.
The club leader was behind Grace, so close his voice made her jump. “Is there a problem?” The hope on his face was disgusting. Grace willed her sister to keep her mouth shut. Miriam didn’t even hesitate.
“I didn’t come here to drink with the Simi Valley Hitler Youth.”
“We’re not Nazis.”
The way he said it made Grace think he had to make the denial often.
“I’ve never had to clarify that I’m not a Nazi,” said Miriam.
Cha has written a glass onion of a book that is easily read and floats to my mind to and fro, a week after I finished it.
In this novel Cha touches on racism, injustice, the police and courts, and also family, expectations, dreams, parenting, fear, and love. She also discusses gangs, the prison system, the expansion of Palmdale as a distant bedroom community for LA (with affordable housing and limited gangs), different neighborhoods, and protests.
I found this book to be very well-done and readable.