Chinese Parents Don't Say I Love You, by Candice Chung
Book Review
Again, I have been blessed by another great read thanks to Allen & Unwin and NetGalley, where I was lucky to be able to read an ARC of this book.
Having lived in Beijing for a year as an exchange student, I find myself often reaching for books set amongst the Chinese cultural landscape. It brings a sense of nostalgia and longing for me, as I read stories from my first time as a traveler and seeker of new experiences.
Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is a swirling and evocative memoir by writer, editor, and food reviewer Candice Chung, and it captures the space that can exist between Chinese parents, and their children. This memoir follows Chung post break-up at 35, as she navigates trying to find her connection with her parents, self, and romantic life again. All of which, happens over food, while making food, or even planning to eat food.
There is a beauty in the writing style that I often see in East-Asian writers (though, admittedly I’m not an expert, this is just my experience from what I have read) where life breaths through the words and meaning unfolds more in the “unsaid”. I think this is where Chung’s work really comes alive for me.
Chung, as the narrator watches herself back through her writing with a distilled distance, creating a unique voice that hums with feeling. This distance between narrator, and the world creates a yearning for the reader, that mimics the experience of how Chung feels with the world and in turn, those she has around her. What we as the readers are shown, and therefore feel, is the slight emptiness that comes with what some of us know as depression, and also those small moments light that are connections to others. In Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You, these moments are shared over food.
After reading this paragraph in the book:
“In that moment, I understand what it is to be free. … The pleasure of not-sharing that too few women know. I feel self satisfied and sip my wine. In a foreign city—solitude as blank slate. As possibilities. After New York, I stop saying ‘just for one’.”
I took a moment to pause, my stare turned away from the page as I watch in my minds eye, a shifting flux of the narrative/author as it blends with watching an imagined version of myself, sitting in contented adult freedom at a table for one. I feel the image swill in my mind like a sharp sip of crisp white wine, and savour it.
Chinese Parents Don’t Say I Love You is a novel to be savoured, and just like a good wine or home cooked meal, it’s even better when shared with friends, so thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you.
