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4.27 AVERAGE
4.27 AVERAGE
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Loveable characters:
Yes
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I don't know how to feel about this book, whether I really love it or hate it because it reminds me so much of myself and the estranged relationship between me and my mother.
This book is a beautiful portrayal of grief, unconventional friendships and how we move on, how we process our losses. On the one hand, the book is so relatable to me, the protagonist is so dear to me, the way he became an addict after witnessing the death of his best friend, his gradual, painful but self-destructive path into depression, his avoidance, his urge to disappear, his internal shame and emotional turmoil at the edge of becoming an adult. Hai was a beautiful protagonist, despite all his flaws, selfishness and cowardice. I love how he experienced things, how he processed the trauma and how he tried to change, to let things go, and to find his own "America".
I feel like Hai sometimes. I feel foreign, alien to those close to me. I find it difficult to open to my mother - the person I'm closest to, my flesh, my soul, my everything. And at the same time, I even to alien to myself. Unlike Hai, my "bà ngoại" was dead long ago, my best friends are still here, I'm living a decent life, a desk job and a roof above my head, I do have somewhere to go. But I still feel so lonely, desperately lonely, it becomes a void in my soul, I do think I came into this world alone and I would leave alone. But Hai was not alone, I hope he realized that, I was glad that he lingered. I did think he was the emperor of Gladness, we're all emperors of somewhere we belong. Hai's innital attempt to kill himself, to remove himself out of Glassness was unsuccessful, during days with Grazina, he lingered into the shadow of his grandma, the nostalgia of childhood, of the good old times the family he once had was still there. I think the story of Grazina's struggles with Alzheimer and Hai had to let her go at the end is the beginning. I was desperate that they couldn't spend more time with each other, as best friends, as family and Grazina had to die alone and perhaps, all her memories with Hai varnished, and no one there to know how beautiful those memories were, it was still the best thing.
I thing Hai was the son, the beacon of light during Grazina last days and Grazina was how Hai learned to grieve, to move on, and I think both of them did find their own "America" - a new world, a harsh, cruel but new regardless, where they can learn to live once more. The relationship between Hai and Grazina was so dear to me, it was so unconventional, I don't think this type of friendship even exist. How did these two mis-fits learn to adapt to each other? How did they become so empathetic with each other even when none of them know everything about the other? The way Hai learned how to navigate Grazina's Alzheimer symptoms, how to lean into her memories of wars, of losses and heartbreaks moved me to tears. These two have nothing but each other, they were both on the margins of society and cling onto each other to float, I was glad they found each other during the darkest time of their lives. And I guess the book also did an amazing job portraying the relationships we had with our parents when they age. Hai didn't do his best taking care of or understanding his mother and so did Lucas, they were both terrible sons who abandoned their mothers, even though to deal with their problems on their own. I couldn't blame Lucas and Hai, if I was in their shoes, I wouldn't have been better, I, in fact, am a horrible daughter too. I was scared sometimes, I feared I would give up on my relationship with my mother and didn't even bother trying to make amends with her, i could never understand my mom, I knew why she did what she did and I could never achieve what she achieved, I was a failure, and I'm scared I'm not gonna make it, like Hai, I lied and hid so many things from her.
I want to hope that at the end, Hai could make his way back to his Ma, even though the memories of losses, of what he did would haunt him, even though he feels like the hogs he killed, making hopeless sounds when they reach their deaths, deep inside, he still feels like a person who lives this life once. And once again, I hope he lingers, as long as he could, as long as the galaxy reaches the enternity.
The complicated relationship between Hai and other adults around him, the ways he learned that people around him also a failure themselves made me happy, this is America, I mean, a nation of working people, those who made food one-second faster day by day so that the world keeps spinning. At the end of the day, it was the American dream, a dream of immigrants, of people of colors, and yeah, working people. I love Homemarket, it was a market before it was a home, or a home before a market, home under capitalism!!! A chosen family that was so unexpected to me, so unconventional I wish it was real.
My sunshine of this book is Sony, I mean I feel sorry but was so proud of him, I could never have such faith in someone, I lost faith the day my dad left me to live in another home, to raise his other kids and live his other life. But lovely Sony loves the parent that left the most, bacause who doesn't? The way Sony still has faith in Hai, even when Hai never helped, has faith in his over-idolised father, in his mother who was in jail, amazed me, sometimes I think it was his autism, but maybe it was just a pure soul and a loving heart. Sony's final meeting with his dad, to learn all the poor man's lies, yet still pursue his dream of becoming a docent, made me wonder how pure he could be. How could you ask more from a son like this? I was horrible to my autistic friend because I couldn't get what they think, now I feel ashamed of it, I wish I could go back and change how I treated him but I couldn't. The book reminds me of how we treat people who are not as healthy and neuro-typical like us, how to deal with the elderly and people who have mental disabilities.
Overall this book made me think a lot, it was so reflective and poetic. I love those sequences of Hai and Grazina playing pretends of soldiers and commoners who fled a country of war to seek refuge, those moments were so dreamy, so nightmarish but so child-like, I bawl my eyes out to think of what Grazina had to go through to last till this day, how these trauma haunted her during those psychosis episodes. How her and Hai had to cling into these horrible memories to attain Grazina's memories, because trauma was what we remember the most.
This book was so beautiful and so close to me, I enjoy Vuong's writing a lot, it was real and surreal at the same times, a clash of reality and a dream made the book so abstract, like a faded memory people cling into when they start to forget some thing, something that used to be so close, like the mother tounge you forget when you grew older, a buried, forgotten voice of your loved ones who left long ago. The pages are so tender, like ocean waves, like lullabies, I wish I could touch them with the touch of my hand.
This book is a beautiful portrayal of grief, unconventional friendships and how we move on, how we process our losses. On the one hand, the book is so relatable to me, the protagonist is so dear to me, the way he became an addict after witnessing the death of his best friend, his gradual, painful but self-destructive path into depression, his avoidance, his urge to disappear, his internal shame and emotional turmoil at the edge of becoming an adult. Hai was a beautiful protagonist, despite all his flaws, selfishness and cowardice. I love how he experienced things, how he processed the trauma and how he tried to change, to let things go, and to find his own "America".
I feel like Hai sometimes. I feel foreign, alien to those close to me. I find it difficult to open to my mother - the person I'm closest to, my flesh, my soul, my everything. And at the same time, I even to alien to myself. Unlike Hai, my "bà ngoại" was dead long ago, my best friends are still here, I'm living a decent life, a desk job and a roof above my head, I do have somewhere to go. But I still feel so lonely, desperately lonely, it becomes a void in my soul, I do think I came into this world alone and I would leave alone. But Hai was not alone, I hope he realized that, I was glad that he lingered. I did think he was the emperor of Gladness, we're all emperors of somewhere we belong. Hai's innital attempt to kill himself, to remove himself out of Glassness was unsuccessful, during days with Grazina, he lingered into the shadow of his grandma, the nostalgia of childhood, of the good old times the family he once had was still there. I think the story of Grazina's struggles with Alzheimer and Hai had to let her go at the end is the beginning. I was desperate that they couldn't spend more time with each other, as best friends, as family and Grazina had to die alone and perhaps, all her memories with Hai varnished, and no one there to know how beautiful those memories were, it was still the best thing.
I thing Hai was the son, the beacon of light during Grazina last days and Grazina was how Hai learned to grieve, to move on, and I think both of them did find their own "America" - a new world, a harsh, cruel but new regardless, where they can learn to live once more. The relationship between Hai and Grazina was so dear to me, it was so unconventional, I don't think this type of friendship even exist. How did these two mis-fits learn to adapt to each other? How did they become so empathetic with each other even when none of them know everything about the other? The way Hai learned how to navigate Grazina's Alzheimer symptoms, how to lean into her memories of wars, of losses and heartbreaks moved me to tears. These two have nothing but each other, they were both on the margins of society and cling onto each other to float, I was glad they found each other during the darkest time of their lives. And I guess the book also did an amazing job portraying the relationships we had with our parents when they age. Hai didn't do his best taking care of or understanding his mother and so did Lucas, they were both terrible sons who abandoned their mothers, even though to deal with their problems on their own. I couldn't blame Lucas and Hai, if I was in their shoes, I wouldn't have been better, I, in fact, am a horrible daughter too. I was scared sometimes, I feared I would give up on my relationship with my mother and didn't even bother trying to make amends with her, i could never understand my mom, I knew why she did what she did and I could never achieve what she achieved, I was a failure, and I'm scared I'm not gonna make it, like Hai, I lied and hid so many things from her.
I want to hope that at the end, Hai could make his way back to his Ma, even though the memories of losses, of what he did would haunt him, even though he feels like the hogs he killed, making hopeless sounds when they reach their deaths, deep inside, he still feels like a person who lives this life once. And once again, I hope he lingers, as long as he could, as long as the galaxy reaches the enternity.
The complicated relationship between Hai and other adults around him, the ways he learned that people around him also a failure themselves made me happy, this is America, I mean, a nation of working people, those who made food one-second faster day by day so that the world keeps spinning. At the end of the day, it was the American dream, a dream of immigrants, of people of colors, and yeah, working people. I love Homemarket, it was a market before it was a home, or a home before a market, home under capitalism!!! A chosen family that was so unexpected to me, so unconventional I wish it was real.
My sunshine of this book is Sony, I mean I feel sorry but was so proud of him, I could never have such faith in someone, I lost faith the day my dad left me to live in another home, to raise his other kids and live his other life. But lovely Sony loves the parent that left the most, bacause who doesn't? The way Sony still has faith in Hai, even when Hai never helped, has faith in his over-idolised father, in his mother who was in jail, amazed me, sometimes I think it was his autism, but maybe it was just a pure soul and a loving heart. Sony's final meeting with his dad, to learn all the poor man's lies, yet still pursue his dream of becoming a docent, made me wonder how pure he could be. How could you ask more from a son like this? I was horrible to my autistic friend because I couldn't get what they think, now I feel ashamed of it, I wish I could go back and change how I treated him but I couldn't. The book reminds me of how we treat people who are not as healthy and neuro-typical like us, how to deal with the elderly and people who have mental disabilities.
Overall this book made me think a lot, it was so reflective and poetic. I love those sequences of Hai and Grazina playing pretends of soldiers and commoners who fled a country of war to seek refuge, those moments were so dreamy, so nightmarish but so child-like, I bawl my eyes out to think of what Grazina had to go through to last till this day, how these trauma haunted her during those psychosis episodes. How her and Hai had to cling into these horrible memories to attain Grazina's memories, because trauma was what we remember the most.
This book was so beautiful and so close to me, I enjoy Vuong's writing a lot, it was real and surreal at the same times, a clash of reality and a dream made the book so abstract, like a faded memory people cling into when they start to forget some thing, something that used to be so close, like the mother tounge you forget when you grew older, a buried, forgotten voice of your loved ones who left long ago. The pages are so tender, like ocean waves, like lullabies, I wish I could touch them with the touch of my hand.
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I knew from the beginning that this was going to be a 6-star. I knew it from that illegally devastating opening line. I never cry while reading books in general. Ended up crying like more than 5 times at the ungodly hours of twilight because the sheer intense grief is served so so tenderly that it makes no sense. I did not think it was possible for a human heart to contain all this grief while reading. Perhaps this is why I had to take breaks—just to pause, feel, and take it all in. There is something so magical, poetic, and heartbreaking about surviving capitalism together. We owe each other everything. The hardest thing in this world—dare I say—is picking up my next book after this one. Ocean Vuong has ruined everything else for me (ok at least for a while).
If you need me I'll be evaporating over here in my own galaxy, the one that I cut open and stepped inside—not to be destroyed, but simply gone.
With love,
A Beautiful Short Loser
If you need me I'll be evaporating over here in my own galaxy, the one that I cut open and stepped inside—not to be destroyed, but simply gone.
With love,
A Beautiful Short Loser
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
One of the best things I've ever read
reflective
sad
slow-paced
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
4.25/5
Throughout, the author’s prose flows effortlessly, words are woven with a magical grace that entrances readers and elevates the storytelling into lyrical art. The novel is richly layered with metaphors, bringing both setting and characters to life with vivid detail and creating an immersive world. At the center lies the tender bond between Grazina and Hai, which serves as the emotional core of the story. Equally compelling is the dynamic among Hai’s newfound family at Homemarket: a mosaic of survivors whose shared struggles and quiet resilience build a profound sense of community.
The narrative does not shy away from the darkness woven through society: violence, the unforgiving stigma directed at those struggling with addiction, the dismissal of the persistent trauma carried by survivors of war, the societal indifference towards the homeless and the neglect faced by the elderly. Each is presented as a fracture carving into the lives of the characters–fractures that mirror the divisions that cleave our world, where neglect, violence, and broken humanity are laid bare.
While the story’s momentum falters slightly near the end, drifting into a somewhat directionless space, this does not significantly diminish the novel’s overall impact or resonance. The unresolved, open ending mirrors the complexities and uncertainties of real life, especially when dealing with issues like addiction, trauma, and survival. It shows that life’s messiness and suffering do not always lead to clear answers or happy endings, emphasizing that healing and human struggles are ongoing processes rather than Bow-tied endings.
Addiction is not depicted as the sole axis of Hai’s life, but it intertwines with themes of trauma, survival, and connection. The narrative approaches Hai’s opioid use with subtlety, avoiding sensationalism. Instead, it explores the recurring nature of addiction, the isolation it creates, and the societal neglect people in Hai’s position often face. Rather than reducing characters to their addictions, the novel weaves addiction into broader themes of healing, guilt, and yearning for inclusion.
Hai and Grazina’s connection is depicted with sincerity and depth. Both characters carry deep, invisible scars–remnants of war, displacement, and loss, yet their bond pulls them closer rather than apart. Their moments together are filled with vulnerability and kindness, breaking through the page, stirring deep emotions within the reader. These portrayals serve as a tribute to the human capacity for compassion, even amidst hopelessness. Hai’s coworkers, too, are marked by their own wounds. Each character is a survivor seeking healing, carrying the weight of personal history. Within these shared struggles, Hai discovers a fragile sense of belonging, where every person brings a fragment of their world through their presence.
Characters are often portrayed as solitary lights–distinct and sometimes distant, who discover connection, not by reshaping themselves, but by gently aligning with others. The found family theme becomes one of the novel’s most emotionally resonant elements. Hai’s chosen family at Homemarket illustrates that love does not have to be inherited; it is forged through shared moments, mutual care, and chosen loyalty.
It’s the feeling of no longer being alone in the world, even if you once were, the quiet joy of realizing you’re no longer the only one carrying your story. Understanding that you were never an isolated star, but always a piece of a constellation, waiting for the rest to light up alongside you. For so long, you glimmered on the edge of the night, clinging onto your fragile form, hoping that your light might mean something more against the void. But then, connection is found–not merely with those who see their light, but with those who trace its edges, understand its distance, and still reach out. Suddenly, you align. Belonging is not the result of transformation, but of finally fitting into an embrace that was always waiting. What was once a single star’s glimmer becomes a wild, living blaze, fueled by kindred souls found along the way.
Throughout, the author’s prose flows effortlessly, words are woven with a magical grace that entrances readers and elevates the storytelling into lyrical art. The novel is richly layered with metaphors, bringing both setting and characters to life with vivid detail and creating an immersive world. At the center lies the tender bond between Grazina and Hai, which serves as the emotional core of the story. Equally compelling is the dynamic among Hai’s newfound family at Homemarket: a mosaic of survivors whose shared struggles and quiet resilience build a profound sense of community.
The narrative does not shy away from the darkness woven through society: violence, the unforgiving stigma directed at those struggling with addiction, the dismissal of the persistent trauma carried by survivors of war, the societal indifference towards the homeless and the neglect faced by the elderly. Each is presented as a fracture carving into the lives of the characters–fractures that mirror the divisions that cleave our world, where neglect, violence, and broken humanity are laid bare.
While the story’s momentum falters slightly near the end, drifting into a somewhat directionless space, this does not significantly diminish the novel’s overall impact or resonance. The unresolved, open ending mirrors the complexities and uncertainties of real life, especially when dealing with issues like addiction, trauma, and survival. It shows that life’s messiness and suffering do not always lead to clear answers or happy endings, emphasizing that healing and human struggles are ongoing processes rather than Bow-tied endings.
Addiction is not depicted as the sole axis of Hai’s life, but it intertwines with themes of trauma, survival, and connection. The narrative approaches Hai’s opioid use with subtlety, avoiding sensationalism. Instead, it explores the recurring nature of addiction, the isolation it creates, and the societal neglect people in Hai’s position often face. Rather than reducing characters to their addictions, the novel weaves addiction into broader themes of healing, guilt, and yearning for inclusion.
Hai and Grazina’s connection is depicted with sincerity and depth. Both characters carry deep, invisible scars–remnants of war, displacement, and loss, yet their bond pulls them closer rather than apart. Their moments together are filled with vulnerability and kindness, breaking through the page, stirring deep emotions within the reader. These portrayals serve as a tribute to the human capacity for compassion, even amidst hopelessness. Hai’s coworkers, too, are marked by their own wounds. Each character is a survivor seeking healing, carrying the weight of personal history. Within these shared struggles, Hai discovers a fragile sense of belonging, where every person brings a fragment of their world through their presence.
Characters are often portrayed as solitary lights–distinct and sometimes distant, who discover connection, not by reshaping themselves, but by gently aligning with others. The found family theme becomes one of the novel’s most emotionally resonant elements. Hai’s chosen family at Homemarket illustrates that love does not have to be inherited; it is forged through shared moments, mutual care, and chosen loyalty.
It’s the feeling of no longer being alone in the world, even if you once were, the quiet joy of realizing you’re no longer the only one carrying your story. Understanding that you were never an isolated star, but always a piece of a constellation, waiting for the rest to light up alongside you. For so long, you glimmered on the edge of the night, clinging onto your fragile form, hoping that your light might mean something more against the void. But then, connection is found–not merely with those who see their light, but with those who trace its edges, understand its distance, and still reach out. Suddenly, you align. Belonging is not the result of transformation, but of finally fitting into an embrace that was always waiting. What was once a single star’s glimmer becomes a wild, living blaze, fueled by kindred souls found along the way.
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This is a book about a group of people thrown together in small-town-America in the midst of the opioid epidemic. It's about what makes us human - about heartbreak & hope in equal measure. It's about friendship & chosen families. The narrative focuses on these key themes with the plot played out purely through the interactions between each of the characters. One quote from the book has stayed with me, "Somebody goes ahead & dies & all of a sudden you become a box for them, he thought, you go on living like that, your head a coffin to keep the memories of the dead alive. But what do you do with that kind of box? Where do you put it down?"