I had a very hard time figuring out who this book is “for.” White ally audiences? The incredibly small set of published fiction authors under 50? POC who want to scream about how they already know how hard it is?

I got approved for this the day I had reread Molly Young’s NYT book review ( https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/19/books/review-last-resort-andrew-lipstein.html ) of “Last Resort” and “The Plot,” calling them, “anti-Künstlerroman — books not about the formation of genuine artists but about the self-destruction of phony ones. They are both thrillers about, of all things, intellectual property.”

Molly Young also goes on about how “Last Resort” and “The Plot” share a “similar … plot.” Which is now shared by “Yellowface” a year later. By now readers have come to understand the publishing world, making this a little less Inside Baseball than it might have been 5 years ago.

I just never felt that Yellowface found the right tone. Writing from the perspective of the culture-vulture seemed like it would soothe white ally audiences and rile POC ones. That perspective felt unctuous and underhanded, not sly or satirical.

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 4/5 Plot: 4.5/5

This book never goes where you expect it to go. Ostensibly the story of an author (Juniper Song) who takes the latest manuscript from a recently deceased friend (Athena Liu), completes it, and publishes it as her own. But the depth of introspection, thought, and reaction every step of the way neatly details the complexities of every aspect of the world of writing, publishing, marketing and fandom. And it is absolutely fascinating.

Ever noticed how easy it is to have a (strong) opinion on something for which you’ve only read a headline? You’re not the only one. This book forces us to think a lot more deeply about a whole slew of issues: What is plagiarism vs influence vs mashups? How are we influenced by both direct marketing / branding and the more subtle (but equally insistent) influence of current trends and fads? How quick are we to leap to conclusions without analysis or an attempt at understanding?

Kuang also tackles the hydra of cultural appropriation by having her narrator (a white woman) writing a (thoroughly researched) book about Chinese history. Does she have the right to write about something that is not her heritage? Is it more reasonable for someone who is of Chinese descent but has never experienced (or been exposed to) anything like the characters in the book to write it? Kuang (who herself is ethnically Chinese) presents multiple sides to a whole slew of issues via the opinions, thoughts, and comments of various characters — both fully fleshed out and spewed in every angry storm of social media commentary. If Kuang herself has a strong opinion on these topics, she keeps it well camouflaged through her characters’ many disparate voices. I think she showed real courage tackling the subjects — helpful that she is already an award winning author — but I hope the strong-minded Internet trolls bother to think things through before attacking!

Lots of literary references, real insight into the industry, and a wildly convoluted plot that is actually clean, believable, and easy to follow. Human nature presented with all of its intricate folds dancing about in the intersection of morality, social acceptability, and judgement. Very different from her last book (Babel — which I loved) — it is equally compelling.

A fantastic first line, which drew me in instantly: “The night I watch Athena Liu die, we’re celebrating her TV deal with Netflix.” A fantastic last line, too, but I won’t include that here!

A small selection of good lines — there are so, so many:
“I stare at Athena’s brown eyes, framed by those ridiculously large lashes that make her resemble a Disney forest animal, and I wonder, What is it like to be you?”

“Cue the myth making in real time, the constructed persona deemed maximally marketable by her publishing team, paired with a healthy dose of neoliberal exploitations. Complex messages reduced to sound bites; biographies cherry-picked for the quirky and exotic.”

“The Last Front hardly breaks new ground; instead, it joins novels like The Help and The Good Earth in a long line of what I dub historical exploitation novels: inauthentic stories that use troubled pasts as an entertaining set piece for white entertainment.”

“In any case, Twitter discourse never does anything — it’s just an opportunity for firebrands to wave their flags, declare their sides, and try to brandish some IQ points before everyone gets bored and moves on.”

“It’s hard to reach such a pinnacle of literary prominence that you remain a household name for years, decades past your latest release. Only a handful of Nobel Prize winners can get away with that. The rest of us have to keep racing along the hamster wheel of relevance.”

“But enter professional publishing and suddenly writing is a matter of professional jealousies, obscure marketing budgets, and advances that don’t measure up to those of your peers. Editors go in and mess around with your words, your vision. Marketing and publicity make you distill hundreds of pages of careful, nuanced reflection into cute, tweet-size talking points. Readers inflict their own expectations, not just on the story, but on your politics, your philosophy, your stance on all things ethical. You, not your writing, become the product — your looks, your wit, your quippy clapbacks and factional alignments with online beefs that no one in the real world gives a shit about.”

I am once again blown away by R. F. Kuang's writing. I devoured this book. I'm amazed at how well she transitioned into the literary fiction genre (although I didn't doubt she would do it spectacularly, I'm just in awe of how flawlessly she did it).

*I'm coming back to this well after finishing it and this is still at the forefront of my mind. Kuang has seamlessly crafted a main character who is unlikable, and yet, I cared to hear what happens. I would generally turn away from a book that has no likable main characters.

Truthfully, I didn't finish reading this book. I got to about the hook and decided to put it down as soon as I saw where it was going. When (Spoiler) the friend dies, immediately the entire book became obvious. I can't put much of a say on the race issue, as it isn't my place, but the book itself doesn't read well and was painful to get through all the cringing. It might change in the end, and be better, but for now I will say I have no plans of adding it to my collection. Thank you for the opportunity to read it, and I'm sure that others will have differing opinions if they get further through than I did. Unfortunately, it just won't fit in with our collection.

Thank you NetGalley and William Morrow for the opportunity to read an advanced copy of Yellowface by R.F. Kuang. This book is about June Hayward/Juniper Song, an aspiring author whose debut novel has recently bombed, and her insanely successful friend, sometimes frenemy, Athena Liu. When Athena dies in a sudden accident, June takes the manuscript Athena has just finished, reworks it, and passes it off as her own. It's a premise that I've seen in other books recently, but in Yellowface there's an added layer exploring race and identity. I find the business of the book industry really fascinating and Yellowface doesn't shy away from criticizing it. I can see this book inspiring a lot of questions like Whose stories deserve to get told? and Who has the right to tell them?

I loved everything about this book. R.F. Kuang has a gift.

I know this book is going to make so many people upset, but I loved every single page of it.

I tore through this book really quickly. I'm a sucker for characters who get what coming to them, and this book was not a disappointment. What I didn't expect was that there was no tidy resolution. June's act of literary appropriation is discovered and interrogated, but the resolution is anything but tidy. I'm being vague to avoid spoilers, but this is a messy book, with messy characters and a messy resolution. So much of the drama unfolds online (which is probably par for the course with authors these days), which one of June's editors lambasts and says that most readers won't care, authors are all too online. I was left with a melancholy feeling at the end, when it was clear that none of the characters were willing to break free of the spiral that their actions brought on.

Yellowface is a deliberately uncomfortable read about appropriation and identity. The central relationship between POV character June and her classmate/friend/idol/rival Athena is the strongest part of the book, lending an undercurrent of racially motivated jealously to the whole narrative. This toxic relationship is utterly fantastic, and I wish there was more.

My biggest issue with the book was the lack of nuance — the extensive sections dedicated to online criticism undermined the novel’s attempts at successful satire. It made for a grippingly cringey read, but sometimes felt too exaggerated for the sake of the narrative. (Not that racism isn’t ridiculous or can’t be blatant and infuriating, just that June sometimes came across as an unbelievable character.) The best parts of her POV were when she tried to convince herself she wasn’t a hateful person, rather than the times she excused her behavior: then her delusion felt more realistic and satirical.

I really enjoyed the way white guilt operates in the novel along with the thinly-veiled criticisms of the publishing industry; the passages about tokenization, especially for authors of color, were compelling and relevant.

Overall, I couldn’t put this book down, but I struggled with some of the execution. When it works, it’s brilliant. When it doesn’t, it’s disappointing. Still, it was creative, frustrating, and intensely personal, as many of Kuang’s work is. Even with its issues, Yellowface is a scathing indictment of white feminism, corporate diversity, and public vs. private identity. I enjoyed this deviation from her previous work, and remain excited to read whatever she puts out next.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.