BLOGTASTIC! We’ve reached the last and final square in the
2017 Leaning Stack of Books Diversity Challenge. Today will feature
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng, which fulfills the category, “Book by an
Asian-American Writer.”
The book blogosphere loves Ng’s books, because they are very
accessible family dramas that offer entry into complicated conversations about
identity. Her debut, Everything I Never Told You, was the Amazon Book of the
Year in 2014. Little Fires Everywhere was the Amazon Best Novel of the year in 2017 an the Goodreads Choice Best Fiction
Book of the Year in 2017. So y’all love your Ng.
I like Ng’s books. I do! But I don’t love them, and that
always makes me feel weird. It’s kind of how I feel about Star Wars. Sure, I’ll
go, but I have no interest in standing in line in costume at midnight to see
it.
photo credit: Andrew Gombert/European Pressphoto Agency at nyt.com |
Little Fires Everywhere is a book that is trying to do
several things. First, it is a satire of sorts of white, affluent culture. The
novel takes place in Shaker Heights, Ohio, which is the author’s hometown. Ng
takes aim at the pristine appearance of the setting, the rules and conventions,
and the supposed progressive politics of the very rich people. Second, it is an
exploration of the complexities of motherhood, and the novel features several
mother/daughter relationships that poke at all the ways that being a “good
mother” is difficult. And third, the novel wants to explore
intercultural/interracial/interclass adoption, which brings all three themes
together. Ambitious, right?
The problem I have is that I don’t think that Ng really
trusts her audience to grapple with the complex moral issues at the center
of the book. I’m not truly spoiling anything with this discussion,
but STOP RIGHT NOW if you are worried about finding out too much about the
story.
The interracial/cultural/class adoption controversy involves
a legal challenge between affluent/white adoptive parents and a low income,
young, Asian birth mother. Class issues are central here, because the baby will
certainly grow up with all sorts of material advantages if she stays with her
adoptive parents. But the birth mother’s biological connection and cultural
connection sit as important, contrasting advantages. There’s so much interesting (and tragic)
possibility in this subject matter, but I don’t think that Ng allows us to
encounter the difficult heart of this problem. I wanted to feel challenged,
but the adoptive parents are so completely clueless that I felt manipulated.
What if the adoptive parents had surrounded the daughter with people and
experiences that would help her connect to her heritage? What if there was
genuine goodness – though different goodness - on both sides of the legal
aisle? Then the reader would have a real dilemma, just as we do when this issue
plays out in real courts, when we have to ask, “How does race matter?” and “How
does class matter?”
So read this for your book club! There’s a ton to talk
about, clearly. You can even wear your Star Wars costume while you do so.
Original from pinterest.com. Then I mangled it. |
Here’s an interesting interview with Ng. And here she is in The Atlantic talking about the significance of Goodnight Moon: “If
you imagine this book without the words that accompany the pictures, it would
be a mystifying work—even a little bit terrifying.”
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