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416 pages, Hardcover
First published April 30, 2024
your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me
but i do, I think i do
and you're an all-american boy
i guess i couldn't help trying to be your best american girl
🏷️ “in the act of giving i conceded that i had more than i needed, and someone had far less than they did. it was for no real reason, it wasn't fair. it shattered the illusion of my own free will - that i had made choices, and those choices had resulted in my life.”
🏷️ “why did parents perform all these un-repayable acts? was it because they felt guilty for bringing us here in the first place? it was a chain of guilt, like daisies, unbroken.”
🏷️ “i had the suspicion that each person was allowed only a bit of ease. there was a limit to fulfilled desire in a life. of course I hadn’t been to america. i wasn’t aware that certain people lived extravagant lives—with no end to their wanting, never punished for it. but I didn’t know that yet.”
“somehow I was self-absorbed without even knowing who i was, or who i should be - an exasperating combination.”
“it was books, the immense volume of them, that opened my eyes to how little we understood about the world we inhabited: a world that appeared ordinary in its dailiness yet contained mysteries upon mysteries, one door opening onto another.”
“i wasn't a lucky person. i'd never defied odds. even my being born a chinese woman had been likeliest, of all possible humans.”
“it was a habit, with my parents: omitting information, not wanting to worry them unnecessarily. though they’d raised me so american, i could never manage the sorts of american relationships my friends had with their parents, where they talked to them like friends.” 🪷