Yellowface

R.F. Kuang is a Chinese-American writer, young, and blessed with talent. Her previous novels were fantasy, her characters were fantastical and exaggerated. In Yellowface, Kuang takes a candid jab at the publishing industry, for their repeated and performative treatment of ethnic characters. It’s metafiction on the nose, and the nose is pointed! Since 2020, publishers have pledged to represent ethnic minorities with authenticity, instead of pressing them into reductive and ornamental molds. Kuang’s twisty plot reveals her audacious theme, and her theme is a response to publishing’s failure to pivot as they vowed. The industry continues to tokenize people of color (YF focuses on Chinese American POC), presenting them as one-dimensional figures, sugary and saccharine and simple. It’s condescending and cringey. Ms. Kuang took a deserved thwack at the industry, and the outcome is a wild and frantic ride inside the publishing houses. Yellowface is suspenseful, plot-propelled, a cat-and mouse drama with satirical varnish. Kuang is a siren when she creates characters---I thought they might walk off the page! It has a staccato pace and a comical touch in all the fatal, tragic places. The voice is light, so the book isn’t turgid, despite the torment of protagonist June Hayward. June is a white American writer who wants success, awards, fame. She’s gotten, instead, a first-book flop. Her nemesis is brainy, beautiful, and self-possessed Chinese American Athena Liu, a celebrated novelist with a Netflix series on the way. Kuang created a complex character in Athena, breaking the stereotypical “good girl” that publishers crank out with Asian characters. Fictionally, the character of Athena allows herself to be tokenized by publishing giants in order to prevail as a celebrity best-selling author. Kuang pulls no punches--Athena is cunning and egocentric. And so is June, her white frenemy who steals her secret manuscript when Athena chokes and dies on a pancake (that’s in early pages). A lot of the suspense comes from Twitter screech, where people are not afraid to be their uglies selves. The story moves at a game clip, and we watch June use her first and middle names for the manuscript she steals and cleans up from Athena, and now her heritage sounds more ambiguous. Her first name is Juniper and her middle name is Song, given to her by her hippie mother, but fortuitous for the moment—folks may think it is Asian, as the story, The Last Front (a bit of irony there) refers to a history of the Chinese Labor Corps recruited by the British Army and sent to the Allied Front during WWI. The reader is kept guessing as each new event raises the stakes for June/Juniper. The last 40 or so pages were a bit too much telling and it didn’t sustain the earlier pace or suspense, it got breathless but less credible, a the plot seemed to fall over itself at times. It was fervent and long-winded, with a lot of crowded add-on that was jammed with info. It’s a minor irritant in what was an otherwise engaging thriller of competition and cultural controversy within an industry that yet remains covetous and veiled to outsiders. One of my favorite reveals is when Athena states she is "ethically troubled" because her parents and grandparents lived through the pain of their history, yet, in her privileged position of looking back from a comfortable life, Athena admits that "I have the indulgence to look back, and be a storyteller" (and get wealthy off their story). But June states, "I've always found that line to be a cop-out...We're all vultures, and some of us--and I mean Athena here--are simply better at finding the juiciest morsels of a story, at ripping through bone and gristle to the tender bleeding heart and putting all the gore on display."

"But isn’t that what ghosts do? Howl, moan, make themselves into spectacles? That’s the whole point of a ghost, is it not? Anything to remind you that they’re still there. Anything to keep you from forgetting." "Have you ever wondered at the mechanics of popularization? How does someone go from being a real person, someone you actually knew, to a set of marketing and publicity points, consumed and lauded by fans who think they know them, but don’t really, but understand this also, and celebrate them regardless?" In one of the most hyped and discussed releases of this year, R. F. Kuang's Yellowface accomplishes several divergent objectives, with the most eminent being a thorough lambasting of the ills of today's publishing industry and its exploitation of cultural appropriation in literature. The term cultural appropriation refers to "the act of borrowing specific elements and symbols from other cultures and then incorporating them into a work of art." (Young, 2008) Furthermore, Kuang's fifth novel to date, after The Poppy War series and Babel, touches several additional themes, and it can be also read as a commentary on the rising cancel culture in social media, a story about the relationship between two frenemies as well as a thriller chronicling the consequences of a high profile literary theft. The novel begins as a Highsmithian in spirit, story about a con-artist who steals the work of a deceased individual and presents it as his own, a plot premise also reminiscent of Yann Gozlan's 2015 film A Perfect Man (original title: Un Homme Ideal) that leaves promises for a story that is filled with tension and twists until the end. However, Kuang doesn't seem to invest much in this aspect of her book, and she concentrates her focus on the subjects that I've already mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph. The main story concerns two young authors, Athena and June, who met while studying at Yale University and forged a friendship that was not devoid of substantial amounts of schadenfreude and bitterness, especially from June's side as Athena seemed to live the dream of any new author, seeing her books published by major players in the publishing industry and some of them even opted by Netflix for a television series. June, on the other hand, has published one novel that didn't get much attention either from critics or the readership, thus making her feel deficient in talent. Yellowface possesses a metafictional aspect too as it is tough not to discern the similarities between the fictional character of Athena Liu and the author herself as Athena "is a young, Ivy-League-educated, Chinese-American female author who got her first book deal in college, writes about the Asian diaspora through a historical lens, and raves about her books on Instagram — many qualities reflected in Kuang herself." as H. E. Gadway keenly observes in her review on The Harvard Crimson. This fact bolsters the validity and credibility of the plot events concerning the harsh realities of today's publishing industry, with June, the sole, first-person narrator of the story, having to navigate through the vicissitudes of a voracious, vulture-like business which possesses the power to make someone a star or throw him into oblivion. This capriciousness is extensively exposed and criticized by the author, who feeds her protagonist with memorable lines both in the dialogue and the inner monologue parts of the novel. The opening chapter introduces the two "friends", Athena Liu and June Hayward, who meet for a girl's night out in Washington, DC to celebrate Athena's agreement with Netflix regarding the adaptation of one of her works into TV series. After drinking spirits in a bar, they return to Athena's flamboyant residence to have a last drink and chat a bit more. But things take a nasty turn: Athena dies after choking on a pancake, (!) and June is unable to help her, sitting by and watching the spark leaving her friend's eyes. After she calls 911, she wanders around the house and spots the drafts of Ahena's latest project, a World War 1 novel revolving around a forsaken, niche historical subject, the sufferings of Chinese laborers sent to the western countries to help with the war. June works on these first drafts, infusing the text with her own style, however being careful to retain the story's basics as Athena crafted them after a meticulous research on the subject. What ensues is June's introduction to the circles of the most discussed young authors, landing a six-figure contract with an independent publishing house and even discusses a potential movie adaptation of The Last Front (the book's title) with some eminent Hollywood producers. Nevertheless, soon the past catches up with her and one day she sees a torrent of posts in social media accusing her of stealing an original work by her dead, so-called friend. While not exactly plot-driven, Yellowface features an intriguing and addictive main storyline while the author's writing style augments the novel's pacing, "Kuang’s prose mimics the constant streams of content that flood social media feeds. It also mirrors the rapidity of public opinion and outrage, both of which play significant roles in the novel’s plot". We follow the story through June's eyes and early one we suspect that she may be an unreliable narrator as Kuang subtly hints through the employment of various tropes and techniques, forcing the reader to read more carefully to pinpoint the parts where June is not as honest and reliable as she presents herself. Moreover, Kuang devotes many pages to how the protagonist is affected by the quotidian posts in social platforms such as Twitter or Goodreads. At one point, June exclaims: "I can’t help it. I need to know what the world is saying about me. I need to sketch out the contours of my digitally perceived self because at least if I know the extent of the damage then I’ll know how much I should be worried." Kuang cauterizes the modes of victimization as manifested in contemporary online media and allows her character to succumb to the vicious habit of "doomscrolling" -the incessant up-and-down in Twitter's feed- and become a subject of controversy as her career reaches its pinnacle. In another part, we read: "I should have stopped looking once I’d glimpsed what I thought was the bottom of the pit of internet stupidity. But reading discourse about myself is like prodding at a sore tooth. I’m compelled to keep digging, just to see how far the rot goes." What is more interesting, though, is June's attempts at justifying her treacherous act, with the arguments changing through the course of the novel. At the beginning, June says both to herself and the others: "I inherited a sketch, with colors added only in uneven patches, and finished it according to the style of the original." We see how essential it is for her to believe that she is not just a common con-artist or thief but a true writer who added to the texts elements from her own style, thus the final result feeling something like a collaboration of sorts between the deceased Athena and herself: "See, the closer we seem, the less mysterious that resemblances to her work will appear. Athena’s fingerprints are all over this project. I don’t wipe them off. I just provide an alternative explanation for why they’re there." The outbreak of the plagiarism scandal is addressed head-on by June, and she manages to put it under wraps, or so she thinks. Because the squabble in respect to the originality of her work is rekindled after the publication of her follow-up novella, which is also based on Athena's notes. I suppose that Kuang wants to pose a timeless question, if there is any work of art that is not -more or less- an indirect copy of another's work. Anthony Cummins writes in his review on The Guardian: "Everyone’s bluffing, Kuang seems to say, and in its deepest implications Yellowface ultimately posits any creative act as a pilfering of one sort or another." The cultural appropriation motif permeates the whole novel, with June's fitness to write a novel that involves characters coming from foreign races and cultures, in this case the Chinese laborers, is brought into question early on and invokes a wave of anxiety and nerves to our narrator. We see, through the process of June's novel publication, that the industry considers the authors who come from an ethnic/racial minority, the most appropriate ones to write about their own people and overall culture. White authors, on the other hand, find this fact rather vexing and call for artistic freedom that often leads to racially insensitive texts that provoke public outrage: "Kuang clearly demonstrates sides of the book world that readers often choose to ignore, including how publishing houses see authors of color only through the lens of diversity, the ways in which the industry normalizes casual racism, and the various excuses that white authors make for insensitivity and ignorance." June is not an Asian woman, as Athena was, and she is deemed not the more befitting author to write about such a specific, in historic terms, group of people living at a certain point in the past. Readers of Yellowface are bound to comprehend how significant the appropriation issue is for Kuang as an Asian woman and a young author. The wittiness of Kuang's prose makes the words feel like singing on page and this is the foremost upside of the novel. The story develops at a rapid tempo, thus rendering the whole reading experience a rather delightful feat. I wasn't aware of R. F. Kuang's work, as I am not the most avid fan of fantasy fiction, but Yellowface is worthy of its reputation and acclaim. An unmissable title by any means for all literary fiction aficionados around the world.

Look, the book is interestingly good. I love that the author tackled plagiarism and how easily it can be protected, if you are a bestselling author. The climax falls short and I feel slighted. It went for teenage drama appeal and I desperately wanted out, but had to commit because it is a book club choice. Yes, I am a sucker for book discussion. So I stayed, but was bored. Her writing style and her ability to capture the psychology of paranoid lying author within the world of publishing was interesting, but it rode out on a theme that goes against my national campaign…victimization. Unfortunately, I can’t check that box, so I couldn’t relate. However, her I found myself thirsty for some ghoulish psychological thriller that she kept building up successfully. I am quite sure Kuang has that writing potential to have taken us on some adult soul tie ghostly alternative. But she kept the ending as safe as it was for the protagonist’s team to disbelieve in her credibility. So, no one got justice nor was any one punished for plagiarism and stealing of the public’s heart, time and resources. The books and manuscripts suggested as the character’s works seemed like great books that should be on shelves. I would have hoped for more respect with a more conclusive ending, but it could have been purposely done to show what Asian women and White women could have in common…that it is hard to discredit their innocence. A damned best plagiarizing seller rode her past any glass ceiling. By the end she graduated with Master in Conceit, Lies and Manipulation.

I am excited to read it but, I order the first time and the book was in a bad condition then ,I returned and I ask for replacement however, it came the same problem in bad condition because the papers of the book is not good I am confused now I hate the book when it’s not in appropriate way I can’t read it I feel that is something wrong.

Llego impecable y en perfectas condiciones. Excelente libro, muy recomendado.

I honestly don’t know how I feel about this book. One thing I can say for sure is that it is well written and kind of like a train wreck. I had to keep reading to see what happened next. Juniper Song was a delusional, possibly psychotic, person whose ability to cast herself as the victim was nothing short of legendary. A good perspective of racism in literature and the toxicity of social media keyboard warriors from many different angles. In my humble opinion, of course 💙

The book was packaged nicely and of course it was a nice read

Very interesting especially first-mid part. Final part is a little bit boring but still good to read for studying English especially Asian.