It’s a dark time in the U.S. After a hard economic crisis and rioting, the country is swayed to believe this is all the fault of the Chinese. Anyone who looks remotely Asian is the target of suspicion, ostracism, even violence. At the same time, the government has banned books it deems objectionable and now has the right to take children away from parents they view as “unpatriotic.”
Three years ago, just as the Crisis was starting, Bird’s mother Margaret, a Chinese poet, left and did not return. Shortly thereafter, Bird (who now goes by his given name, Noah) and his father left their home and moved to a dorm at Harvard, where his father shelves books in the university library. He is taught not to call attention to himself, not to stand out, to do what is asked, and not invite suspicion. It’s a lonely existence for a 12-year-old boy.
Bird and his father have disavowed his mother and her work, but as angry as he is at her for leaving, he misses her too. But a snippet from one of her poems has become a rallying cry for those against the “patriotic” efforts of the country. As more acts of resistance occur, he keeps hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of her at one of them.
When Bird gets a cryptic letter addressed to him which contains only doodles, he knows it’s from his mother. But what is she trying to tell him? He does everything he can to remember the folk tales she told him in an effort to find where she is.
There’s never been any doubt in my mind that Celeste Ng is a talented writer but this book was exceptional. A meditation on motherhood, what we do for our children, and what they take with them, as well as insightful commentary on the ways our country can be easily swayed to make “others” the enemy. The pacing slows a bit at times, but I still found this excellent.
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