where is the line? the scattered remains of a yellowface-induced internal crisis

The following is a book review I started writing for my bookstagram that no longer ended up becoming much of a book review and more of scattered thoughts on what makes someone Asian enough to write Asian stories.

Enjoy?

Yellowface by RF Kuang is a book that poses one big (unanswered) question: Where is the Line? 

What is the limit to what a writer can or cannot write about? Is it cultural appropriation for a white person to write a book taking place in a country they’ve never stepped foot in and whose heritage does not originate from? Is it outside of the scope for an Asian-American person to write a fictionalized account of atrocities their family experienced in Asia but they themselves never have? 

This seems to be a question posed to the audience and posed to author RF Kuang. And I still find myself to not be very sure. 

Yellowface by RF Kuang follows 100% white woman June Hayward as she rises to stardom as a young author in the literary world. Well, that is, by publishing her Chinese-American friend’s Chinese-history-based book as her own.

“Friend” might even be too generous a word. Sure, they knew each other since college and hung out a bit since then, but they were never particularly close.

Athena Liu was the industry darling of book publishing, most famous for writing about the Asian experience. When Athena suddenly and tragically passes away with a super secret manuscript for her newest piece conveniently left out in the open, June takes the opportunity to add a bit of her own flair and publish it herself, in honor of Athena, of course. Not that anyone knows that. 

To entice readers to keep reading, writers typically make their main characters someone you can sympathize with, someone you want to root for to win in the end. For this book, Kuang does the exact opposite. I HATED June with every fiber of my being - so I just had to keep reading. I had a sick desire to see her fail. It was almost like hate-watching shows on HBO Max. June Hayward was my personal punching bag. 

What’s funny is that I did sympathize with her at times, but then she’d make decisions that made me want to suck back up the tears that slipped out of their ducts and remember Oh Right, I do hate her. And it’s pretty fun to do so. 

And she isn’t the only one you come to hate. A la Gossip Girl and Degrassi: The Next Generation, you find yourself hating everyone. Athena was the furthest thing from perfect. She's been said to have seethed when other Asian-American writers came up in the publishing scene, as if she were the only token allowed in the industry. She’s pretentious and self-absorbed. She wasn’t a very good friend, girlfriend, or participating member of her writing community. 

Her own writing is called to question in the novel as she, a young Chinese-American woman, benefits from profiting off the horrors she did not directly experience, whether they were repurposed stories about her family, the recorded memories of an old Korean War veteran at a history museum, or the personal confession of her friend’s trauma. 

This is where the question of “where is the Line?” comes to focus. 

Should we be grateful that true stories underrepresented in history are being brought to light at all, despite the author publishing them not belonging to the cultures where said history resides? Or is this simply the act of profiting off the trauma of others? What is “Asian enough” to write from the Asian perspective? No matter how much research one person does, will it ever make up for the fact that June isn’t any way Chinese or Athena was not amongst those in the Chinese labor camps in World War I? 

After finishing this book, I found myself wondering about that Line everywhere I went. I think a lot about the author Lisa See, for instance, who has been all over Goodreads and Booksta for her recent release of Lady Tan’s Circle of Women inspired by the real life woman doctor from 15th century China. Lisa See identifies as Chinese. She shares in her website’s FAQ:

“My Chinese background influences everything in my life. It’s in how I raise my children, in what I eat, in how I remember the people in my family who’ve died. It’s in what I plant in my garden and how I decorate my house. I have a western doctor, but my main doctor is from China and practices traditional Chinese medicine.”

It’s evident in her work how largely her Chinese background plays a role and how much research she additionally puts in, from academic research to visiting the villages in China in which her stories take place. Her entire bibliography appears to be stories containing Chinese culture. But honestly, learning she was 1/8th Chinese made me tilt my head a bit. I’m not at all surprised to know that I’m not the only one a little disconcerted. On her identity, she also shares:

“All writers are told to write what they know. My family is what I know... I straddle two cultures. I try to bring what I know from both cultures into my work. The American side of me tries to open a window into China and things Chinese for non-Chinese, while the Chinese side of me makes sure that what I’m writing is true to the Chinese culture without making it seem too 'exotic' or 'foreign.'”

Additionally, on perceptions of her identity: 

“But because of how I look I will always be ‘outside.’ In Los Angeles Chinatown, people know me, but when I go to other Chinese communities or to China, people see me as an outsider. When I go into the larger white community here in the U.S., people look at me and talk to me as though I belong, but inside I often feel very foreign. I don’t like their bigotry and racism. In both worlds, I’m a bit outside. I think this has made me a better— and certainly more interesting—writer, because it really makes me look and feel.”

Based on Lady Tan’s Circle of Women, it seems that Lisa See, like June and Athena with their book, takes her position of privilege to share critical moments of Chinese history that’s largely unknown by the public. In Yellowface, a man even approaches June and thanks her for bringing his personal experience to light because no one could believe him previously. All three participate in heavy research to approach their subjects thoughtfully and respectfully (ok well June did get all white savior-y with her edits to Athena’s work). 

Do the factors presented make any of these writers less deserving of the right to publish their work and demonstrate their talents? 

Is there a right to be earned, and could it ever be? 

Further, RF Kuang shares a point in her interview with NPR:

“I think that a lot of our standards about cultural appropriation are language about ‘don't write outside of your own lane. You can only write about this experience if you've had that experience.’

I don't think they make a lot of sense. I think they're actually quite limiting and harmful, and backfire more often on marginalized writers than they push forward conversations about widening opportunities. You would see Asian American writers being told that you can't write anything except about immigrant trauma or the difficulties of being Asian American in the U.S. And I think that's anathema to what fiction should be. I think fiction should be about imagining outside our own perspective, stepping into other people's shoes and empathizing with the other.” 

Yellowface offers a very unique point of view, by imagining cultural appropriation from the perspective of the person committing the appropriation. It imagines her as human, but in no way shies away from her wrongdoings. It imagines her toeing the metaphorical Line and has her (and myself) questioning, can we push it if we put in enough research, if we put in an ounce of respect? 

Who gets to define whether one can skip past that Line? Who gets to define whether someone is Asian enough to qualify to write about Asian issues, culture, or experience? Will one ever be enough? 

I hardly sympathized with June as she went about her own journey to try to get away with stealing Athena’s book and passing it as her own. I reveled in her receiving her comeuppance. There’s so many reasons why June doesn’t deserve to succeed in this novel, but she’s definitely inspired many questions that remain unanswered in my brain. 

When will we as a society reach a point where that Line will not matter anymore? When will we be free to imagine and voice what we imagine without barriers and skepticism? 

Maybe when we all come to understand what it means to be culturally appreciative. Maybe when we remove bias in our writing and all take the time to work with cultural sensitivity readers. Maybe when profit becomes less of a concern. 

Maybe when we stop giving people of color the responsibility to put in the work to educate us, as per RF Kuang.

Recommendation Corner Time!

It's been a while since I've written on here! I will try to be better at posting more on here. I do find the mind dumps pretty cathartic. Yellowface was overall incredibly cathartic. 

And I don't think this really has anything to do with Yellowface, but the term "SOS" represents the constant state of distress that the primary question left me with. (And I'm seeing the Jonas Brothers tonight hehe) 

Nice talk!