Beautiful Country by Qian Julie Wang
Review of Beautiful Country by Qian Julie Wang
“He took on the form of what American expected of us: docile, meek. He had even started teaching me the importance of keeping my head down, of not asking any questions or drawing any attention, seemingly forgetting that he had taught me the exact opposite in China.”
Beautiful Country: A Memoir by Qian Julie Wang (2021). Published by Doubleday Books.
I’ve heard so much about this book, and it literally just came out. I first read about it on The New York Times, but what compelled me to actually get to it was the fact that I saw it on Libby ready to be borrowed right here.
That was insane to me, especially because it had just come out and most of the time when things come out, there’s a months long waiting list just to get a copy of it. So I borrowed the audiobook, and man did I devour this book. It was so good!
I will also admit, I knew nothing about the premise of this memoir going in, and had originally assumed that it was going to be just another immigrant memoir. Boy was I wrong. I should’ve read the premise or book blurb, or even the reviews about it on The New York Times, but I went in completely blind.
And, to be honest, I’m glad that I came in blind because it allowed me to have my socks blown out of the water. The author is a lawyer by trade, but is a fellow bookworm, which shows in her prose. It’s so refined, the mark of someone who was born to be a writer and has cultivated their craft.
Wow, I’ve said a lot already! Let’s dive into this review.
Content
First of all: wow, what a powerful memoir. At first, in the beginning, I was wondering what made this stand out, but as we got into the nitty gritty experiences as an undocumented Chinese-American immigrant family, I slowly began to understand what made this memoir in particular special. It’s not obvious on the surface, but as you keep reading (or listening, if you have an audiobook) there’s this undertone of being stuck in-between cultures.
I remember there was this moment in which Wang describes herself as wanting to smile and be cheerful when she sees other Chinese people in the streets of New York City, to speak Mandarin to them, but then she, too, is slowly worn down into acting a certain way in public. To avoid cops, to hide yourself away inside of your own body. You mustn’t do anything that will risk the security of the family.
This is a very specific snapshot into a moment of time: New York City in the 1980s, through the lens of this undocumented family. We see how they live in an apartment that’s split by families, mainly Puerto Rican immigrants, and how they have a shared kitchen and bathroom with the other people on their floor. There’s a divide between the Cantonese and Mandarin speakers, as well as how the family, who lived in Brooklyn, would go to the Brooklyn Chinatown versus the Manhattan one.
There’s blatant racism and discrimination faced by the family (and not just them, of course) because they are Chinese, and then there’s the mention of how American faces (white faces) became the ideal and how women saw this pressure to not have more Asian faces (which were seen as unappealing, flat, etc.). There’s also a scene when a teacher accuses Qian of plagiarism because her English was just too good, and he wouldn’t believe she wrote it, despite her clearly being a massive bookworm. Classic racism right there.
We also learn the meaning of being grateful. Qian’s family barely had enough money for basic food, since her parents couldn’t get good jobs. They were university professors back in China, which is insane to see. They had good lives there, but came to the United States for a better one outside of the reach of the Chinese government.
And so they gave up their simple lives to start anew in a completely different country, one in which they were seen as outsiders. That’s so brave to start over, even when the risks are high. We see glimpses of the sweatshops that Qian’s mother works in, as well as how her father makes ends meet. But after a Christmas exchange at school, where Qian could only afford to give a nice pencil to her classmate and her classmates are horrified at the meager offering, we slowly begin to understand the implications of class and race issues in the city.
These are really tough topics, but Wang navigates them so elegantly. Her prose is wonderful, airy, full of details. I didn’t have a physical copy of the book (I had an audiobook courtesy of my library’s Libby), and I kept closing my eyes and just savoring the writing. It was so good I’m highly considering buying a physical copy for me to just highlight and go through all over again. What a powerful memoir, one which more people would read.
It really builds empathy, especially in an era of anti-Asian hate going on. We like to assume all Asians are highly educated, but don’t realize the sacrifices people make to get where they’re at, and the fact that there are so many poor Asian-Americans that lack access to good jobs, resources, and housing.
Overall Thoughts
I recommend anyone to read this memoir. It’s digestible in the way that the Mandarin phrases are woven in with translations in a way that isn’t clunky, and it really helped for me to be listening to this as an audiobook. Wang narrates the audiobook, which is a level of personal that I love to have when listening to a memoir audiobook. It’s a classic immigrant story, but it also uniquely Wang’s.
It was truly fascinating to see the world and their immigration through her eyes as a child, especially as it’s lightened by her watching, say, The Simpsons or PBS Kids to learn English, but also discovering the world is a cruel place.
Definitely will be picking up a physical copy of this memoir to lend to friends and highlight all over it for my artist brain to pick up again and again. And the cover is stunning. I saw it in Barnes and Nobles the other day and was drawn to it like a moth. Ah, one day I’ll be able to afford all the books of my dreams.
