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Book Review: Beautiful Country: A Memoir by Qian Julie Wang
A gripping memoir that gives us insight to the journey of a Chinese American woman, and a window into her process of healing from the realities of the American Dream.
October 25, 2022
Ms. Butterfly
Wang’s work is captivating from the beginning. A memoir that traces her childhood self, one that navigates immigrating from China to America, living a life of an illegal immigrant in NewYork’s Chinatown, poverty, hunger and most importantly, hope and perseverance, it is an invitation to bond with another human being. At once heartbreaking and inspiring, Wang observes her own childhood self with compassion and acceptance.
Her prose is captivating, perhaps it is because there is always something special about authentic vulnerability. I am impressed at how honest her reflections are, she immerses herself into her child-hood world so fully, so completely, I feel as if the child version of Qian became my friend. I cheered along her victories, like when she was able to read her books and when her father got her a brand new Tamogotchi, I wept at the tragedies, like when she had to part ways with Marilyn her dear cat and when her mother was sick for it was believed that it was bad luck by her father. Throughout I wanted to reach through the pages to give her a hug.
I think, with any reflection on one’s own childhood traumas, it is extremely difficult to choose what light to shine on others during the time.
Oftentimes during the process of healing it is easy to paint a character as an antagonist orperpetrator. It is much easier to blame someone or something. But Qian offers everyone in her life compassion. There is no trace of bitterness in her childhood world. We see a child who only wishes to help and to do the best. We dive deep into the world of a child around ages 5 through 12, one that is innocent, and pure-hearted. Her love for her mother and father is one that isof complete acceptance, and in mature reflections we see that she has understood them for who they are.
Even those who clearly denigrates her like her male white teacher Mr. Kane who accused her of plagiarism becauseher writing was too good, and who shames her for her clothing she wears because her family is in fact too poor to give her anything else, she states that in fact feels connected to him in their shared loneliness. She is never petty,even when she is wronged, writing that in the face of a Swarthmore college professor laughing at her for dreaming to want to attend a top law school she knew that that only meant she had a greater audience to prove wrong. That inChinese we call da qi打氣, big air。
Sometimes she does lash out. She’s only a child and she has to carry the weight of poverty, of playing the “doctor” as she calls it to her mother, and also be a good Chinese daughter accepting harmful condemnations from her parents. But when she lashes out, usually at school towards her friends, it is easy to understand why and all Ifeel is sympathy.
I especially love the way she directly uses the pinyin of Chinese naturally throughout the book, as aChinese American this makes me feel like I’m there, and makes me feel both understood and understanding. The pressure and filial piety towards her parents are also familiar and her courageous exploration makes me wonder how I would speak of my family.
The events in the book are tied together by reflections that showcase patterns that Qian has identified in herself, which, shows us the healing work that this book required. This is nota book that comes out of a wish to become a published author. Rather, this is a book from someone who is simply a writer, and this is her medicine.
Although my story is wildly different from hers, as I was born in America but raised in international schools in Hong Kong and China. There are some points of similarity; love of books, the same alma mater Swarthmore College (and even a shared professorBetsy Bolton!), and a love of writing. Her book made me realize that the story of Chinese American women is not one that is shaped alone. Her book made me realize that it is because of people like her that my experience at Swarthmore was what it was. I did not get laughed at for dreaming of going to a top graduate school. It is because of people like her, because of her work in the world, that I feel safer, and can raise my voice a little louder. In many ways,I feel like a Meimei (little sister) to her, so thank you, Julie Qian Wang.
The only sense of bitterness comes at the very end, as Wang’s present self reflects on her current life – one of chasing a Manhattan dream, one where her mother and father living in Jersey city seem to be physically content but not spiritually fulfilled. Her blurb says she is fighting for other immigrants through a law firm – truly a Swattie for doing it all! – which sounds like her dream. Yet her ending leaves me wondering what she thinks of as happiness, and what this reconciliation withher inner child looks like her.
Perhaps another memoir, for another time.
I would recommend this book to anyone who is introspective of their own life, especially any immigrant woman of color in America. In so many ways, one person’s medicine is also medicine to others. Thank you for sharing Qian Julie Wang!
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