Scan barcode
sverville's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
slow-paced
4.5
mariahistryingtoread's review against another edition
3.0
TW: Discussion of a criminal case involving rape
I had to wait weeks to receive the Minor Feelings audiobook because it was so popular and I am happy to say I can now see why it was in such hot demand.
I am not Korean, however, I felt a huge sense of kinship to Cathy Park Hong reading this book. There’s a reason the systems in power in America invest a great deal of time in pushing us to blame one another for our inequalities. Minorities inherently have a lot in common that when combined is a powerful force to combat white supremacy. Thus, I was not too surprised to recognize my own lived experiences in some shape or form.
The titular minor feelings are defined as "the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric and therefore untelegenic built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritation of having one's perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed. Minor feelings occur when American optimism is enforced upon you which contradicts your own racialized reality thereby creating a static of cognitive dissonance".
I have felt this way constantly since I first became an adult. Finally, I have a name for it. This differs for everyone, but I personally find labels useful. Obviously, the feelings or the actions are still real even without the title. But, it feels more legitimizing to have a specific word to point to that others also accept. It’s confirmation that I’m not alone.
Growing up hearing about ‘the American dream’ - especially as someone who spent a chunk of their formative years being socialized in predominantly white spaces - is like being gaslit your entire life. You’re conditioned to believe in these so-called universal truths that barely apply to you as a minority or a person in any marginalized community. Yet because so much of society is designed to perpetuate these ideas you grow up blaming yourself for doing ‘it’ wrong rather than questioning the source. That’s where the minor feelings bubble up. Here you are doing everything right, and receiving none of the acclaim or the pay or the status you were promised. If you complain, then you’re met with contempt by white people, either purposely or unconsciously choosing not to see the disparity, or worse your own peers who have sunk so deep into the fallacy they live in denial for the sake of their own mental wellbeing. It’s exhausting. It’s maddening. It’s heartbreaking.
Hong explores all of these messy, disquieting emotions in a way that places her Korean heritage at the forefront. While we share a lot of similarities, there are definitely unique facets to every individuals’ life as a minority as well as the minority as a group overall. While no minority is a monolith, there is a common assemblance of cultural signifiers underlying the group by default.
I am used to a lot of discourse on Black people versus white people because for a multitude of reasons such discourse is typically in the limelight. Also, as a Black woman I go out of my way to engage in these conversations since they are generally relevant to my day to day life. While I do see discussions about the struggles of other people of color in this country it is not nearly on the same scale as Black issues. I try my best to expand my purview because I find it important to try to understand the issues facing all communities as I feel it is beneficial to society at large. Still it is undeniable that the plight of Black people is more prominently on display a majority of the time for better or worse.
It is a complicated situation that Hong navigates beautifully. As she puts it “racial trauma is not a competitive sport” yet because so much of our lives as minorities is filtered through the white gaze we are taught that any coverage on problems that do not affect us undercut our own crusade. It is possible and essential to care about more than one issue at a time; this is the very basis of intersectionality. I appreciated seeing the other less represented though no less important issues of a different group of people. In this specific regard I am privileged which is something I do not consider nearly enough. It made me unpack some bias I had that I was unaware of.
To identify as Asian or Asian American in this country is to be misunderstood. It is to be praised by white people for being uncomplicated because they disregard any signs suggesting otherwise. It is to be resented for your ‘advantageous’ position in society because white validation is unfortunately the metric many minorities still judge themselves by. They can’t win for losing. The way that racial consciousness has developed in America has forced them to be the mother of all model minorities. In a broad sense the unique position Asian people and Asian Americans find themselves in this country has surely created upward mobility for some. However, there are a variety of contributing factors to explain this. It is not simply one of the all too convenient, uncharitable reasons most fallback on such as them being sell-outs to the cause or that they’re desperate to be white. The fact that white people in small ways favor Asians or Asian Americans does not erase the decades of mistreatment or the oppression they have faced.
It’s also hypocritical considering how deeply respectability politics runs in all minority cultures. It is ridiculously unfair to encourage your people to abide by white standards of behavior to get ahead then turn around to condemn an entire different racial bloc on the basis of ‘trying to be white’. Respectability politics is a prison we all labor under. As long as white supremacy prevails we are all going to be guilty to varying extents of playing the game.
On top of that when people argue that ‘Asians have it so good’ or ‘Asians are so uppity’ they usually are talking about who they perceive as Asian which is an extremely narrow viewpoint. More often than not if I say Asian you will think Chinese, Japanese or more recently Korean. But, many Americans would not argue that Indians have it great in this country or that Indians have a superiority complex yet Indians are South Asian.
Hong covers a lot of topics ranging from double consciousness to the impact of the white gaze to the commodification of racial identity to the insecurity of not being worth the sacrifices your ancestors made for you to the fear of letting race define you in the public eye to minority trauma porn all with a masterful fluidity. It never feels repetitive, only expansive.
The strength of the first half is what makes the sudden turn in the second so surprising.
Around this point, Hong brings up the late Korean American artist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha who, in 1982, was raped then murdered by serial rapist Joey Sansa. At first it seems like her story is the tragic culmination of all the themes Hong has put forth; the erasure of Asian American women from the narrative, the fear of exploitation of her death resulting in avoidance of the topic entirely, how discussion of her revolves primarily around how her work relates to the advancement of white academia.
However, the amount of time dedicated to her is disproportionate to the point Hong seems to want to make. It’s an abrupt deviation from the previous memoir/nonfiction combination to almost a true crime novel. She even goes so far as to interview several people including Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s brother.
While I was interested on some level because I loved Hong's writing style, the amount of detail put into researching it was strange since it diverged so dramatically from the original premise of the book. Furthermore, her prioritization of this story seemed to be more about her personal desire to see it get the spotlight it deserves over its actual bearing on the novel as per her presentation of the books’ intentions previously.
I could tell that this was something that Hong cared deeply about. It just felt like she used this opportunity to spread awareness when it did not align with the overall narrative structure. I appreciated the addition when it was relevant. That being said, given the weight of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s story for Hong, its inclusion would have been better suited to a different book solely about her rather than squished into this one. Or if she was going to include it I feel that it should have been the backbone to the whole novel not just a part of it.
She does not totally abandon the themes she laid the groundwork for, but it never quite recovers from this sharp change in direction. It does not help that the essays aren't as focused after this juncture either.
I enjoyed Minor Feelings tremendously. I think it’s a very well written, astute commentary on racial politics that opens the door to more compassionate, intelligent dialogue with Asians in this country rather than about them. Even considering the iffy latter portion I would say the observations it makes are so good that it’s worth reading anyways. If I could I'd give it a 3.5 stars -which I assure you I will be doing over on Storygraph. Either way it’s a high recommendation.
I had to wait weeks to receive the Minor Feelings audiobook because it was so popular and I am happy to say I can now see why it was in such hot demand.
I am not Korean, however, I felt a huge sense of kinship to Cathy Park Hong reading this book. There’s a reason the systems in power in America invest a great deal of time in pushing us to blame one another for our inequalities. Minorities inherently have a lot in common that when combined is a powerful force to combat white supremacy. Thus, I was not too surprised to recognize my own lived experiences in some shape or form.
The titular minor feelings are defined as "the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric and therefore untelegenic built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritation of having one's perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed. Minor feelings occur when American optimism is enforced upon you which contradicts your own racialized reality thereby creating a static of cognitive dissonance".
I have felt this way constantly since I first became an adult. Finally, I have a name for it. This differs for everyone, but I personally find labels useful. Obviously, the feelings or the actions are still real even without the title. But, it feels more legitimizing to have a specific word to point to that others also accept. It’s confirmation that I’m not alone.
Growing up hearing about ‘the American dream’ - especially as someone who spent a chunk of their formative years being socialized in predominantly white spaces - is like being gaslit your entire life. You’re conditioned to believe in these so-called universal truths that barely apply to you as a minority or a person in any marginalized community. Yet because so much of society is designed to perpetuate these ideas you grow up blaming yourself for doing ‘it’ wrong rather than questioning the source. That’s where the minor feelings bubble up. Here you are doing everything right, and receiving none of the acclaim or the pay or the status you were promised. If you complain, then you’re met with contempt by white people, either purposely or unconsciously choosing not to see the disparity, or worse your own peers who have sunk so deep into the fallacy they live in denial for the sake of their own mental wellbeing. It’s exhausting. It’s maddening. It’s heartbreaking.
Hong explores all of these messy, disquieting emotions in a way that places her Korean heritage at the forefront. While we share a lot of similarities, there are definitely unique facets to every individuals’ life as a minority as well as the minority as a group overall. While no minority is a monolith, there is a common assemblance of cultural signifiers underlying the group by default.
I am used to a lot of discourse on Black people versus white people because for a multitude of reasons such discourse is typically in the limelight. Also, as a Black woman I go out of my way to engage in these conversations since they are generally relevant to my day to day life. While I do see discussions about the struggles of other people of color in this country it is not nearly on the same scale as Black issues. I try my best to expand my purview because I find it important to try to understand the issues facing all communities as I feel it is beneficial to society at large. Still it is undeniable that the plight of Black people is more prominently on display a majority of the time for better or worse.
It is a complicated situation that Hong navigates beautifully. As she puts it “racial trauma is not a competitive sport” yet because so much of our lives as minorities is filtered through the white gaze we are taught that any coverage on problems that do not affect us undercut our own crusade. It is possible and essential to care about more than one issue at a time; this is the very basis of intersectionality. I appreciated seeing the other less represented though no less important issues of a different group of people. In this specific regard I am privileged which is something I do not consider nearly enough. It made me unpack some bias I had that I was unaware of.
To identify as Asian or Asian American in this country is to be misunderstood. It is to be praised by white people for being uncomplicated because they disregard any signs suggesting otherwise. It is to be resented for your ‘advantageous’ position in society because white validation is unfortunately the metric many minorities still judge themselves by. They can’t win for losing. The way that racial consciousness has developed in America has forced them to be the mother of all model minorities. In a broad sense the unique position Asian people and Asian Americans find themselves in this country has surely created upward mobility for some. However, there are a variety of contributing factors to explain this. It is not simply one of the all too convenient, uncharitable reasons most fallback on such as them being sell-outs to the cause or that they’re desperate to be white. The fact that white people in small ways favor Asians or Asian Americans does not erase the decades of mistreatment or the oppression they have faced.
It’s also hypocritical considering how deeply respectability politics runs in all minority cultures. It is ridiculously unfair to encourage your people to abide by white standards of behavior to get ahead then turn around to condemn an entire different racial bloc on the basis of ‘trying to be white’. Respectability politics is a prison we all labor under. As long as white supremacy prevails we are all going to be guilty to varying extents of playing the game.
On top of that when people argue that ‘Asians have it so good’ or ‘Asians are so uppity’ they usually are talking about who they perceive as Asian which is an extremely narrow viewpoint. More often than not if I say Asian you will think Chinese, Japanese or more recently Korean. But, many Americans would not argue that Indians have it great in this country or that Indians have a superiority complex yet Indians are South Asian.
Hong covers a lot of topics ranging from double consciousness to the impact of the white gaze to the commodification of racial identity to the insecurity of not being worth the sacrifices your ancestors made for you to the fear of letting race define you in the public eye to minority trauma porn all with a masterful fluidity. It never feels repetitive, only expansive.
The strength of the first half is what makes the sudden turn in the second so surprising.
Around this point, Hong brings up the late Korean American artist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha who, in 1982, was raped then murdered by serial rapist Joey Sansa. At first it seems like her story is the tragic culmination of all the themes Hong has put forth; the erasure of Asian American women from the narrative, the fear of exploitation of her death resulting in avoidance of the topic entirely, how discussion of her revolves primarily around how her work relates to the advancement of white academia.
However, the amount of time dedicated to her is disproportionate to the point Hong seems to want to make. It’s an abrupt deviation from the previous memoir/nonfiction combination to almost a true crime novel. She even goes so far as to interview several people including Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s brother.
While I was interested on some level because I loved Hong's writing style, the amount of detail put into researching it was strange since it diverged so dramatically from the original premise of the book. Furthermore, her prioritization of this story seemed to be more about her personal desire to see it get the spotlight it deserves over its actual bearing on the novel as per her presentation of the books’ intentions previously.
I could tell that this was something that Hong cared deeply about. It just felt like she used this opportunity to spread awareness when it did not align with the overall narrative structure. I appreciated the addition when it was relevant. That being said, given the weight of Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s story for Hong, its inclusion would have been better suited to a different book solely about her rather than squished into this one. Or if she was going to include it I feel that it should have been the backbone to the whole novel not just a part of it.
She does not totally abandon the themes she laid the groundwork for, but it never quite recovers from this sharp change in direction. It does not help that the essays aren't as focused after this juncture either.
I enjoyed Minor Feelings tremendously. I think it’s a very well written, astute commentary on racial politics that opens the door to more compassionate, intelligent dialogue with Asians in this country rather than about them. Even considering the iffy latter portion I would say the observations it makes are so good that it’s worth reading anyways. If I could I'd give it a 3.5 stars -which I assure you I will be doing over on Storygraph. Either way it’s a high recommendation.
sanniebannanie's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
3.25
whitneyt's review against another edition
challenging
dark
informative
reflective
tense
medium-paced
4.75
lieslblock's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
5.0