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A review by rbruehlman
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner
5.0
Deeply sad read.
Crying in H-Mart explores the relationship between Michelle Zauner and her mother, and the grief Zauner struggles with during her mother's battle with and subsequent loss to cancer. Zauner's mother is a force of energy, harsh, domineering, particular, in a way that understandably drives Zauner crazy as a teen. However, as Zauner grows into early adulthood, she finally begins to appreciate her mother more ... just in time for cancer to cruelly take her away.
While Zauner was well on her way to reconciling her relationship with her mother, cancer truly shines a light on the nature of their relationship and puts into perspective. Yes, her mother could be domineering and controlling; yes, her mother cared about things Zauner didn't; yes, they butted heads. But Zauner's mother, for all her flaws, loved Zauner deeply. All the little things Zauner found annoying or too much as a kid, she grows to appreciate as she comes to terms with the fact that soon she will not experience it ever again. Zauner's mom really, truly loved her, Zauner comes to realize, and all of the conflict was just emblematic of that love. Sometimes we don't know how meaningful something is until we lose it. The grieving process is a long and protracted one, as Zauner watches her mother slowly wither away too soon, ravaged by cancer.
While Crying in H-Mart shines on its own merit in its exploration and celebration of a complicated mother-child relationship, it is not merely that. It is also an exploration of what it means to be Korean, Korean-American, and half-Korean. A simple but potent example: comforting her mother with Korean food is impossible because Zauner never learned how to make any, making her feel insufficiently Korean. Remaining connected with her Korean family, a connection point to her mother, is challenging because she barely speaks the language. As a racially ambiguous half-Korean, her mother's presence would wordlessly explain her Koreanness; without her mother, Zauner is merely white-passing, half her identity erased. In a family wordlessly fractured by language barriers, Korean food was one thing everyone could enjoy and bond over, and, unsurprisingly, Zauner finds healing in it as her mother passes. It is the ultimate way to remember her without language. What does it mean to be Korean, really?
The complexity of Zauner's relationship with her father is less of a focus, but one I appreciated, as well. A "happy" version of this book would involve growing closer to her father. Instead, it pushes them further away. While Zauner doesn't seem to dislike her father growing up, her mother's death forces her to more critically evaluate her relationship with him. Her mother, she realizes, is the glue that keeps everyone together, and without her, Zauner and her father have little keeping them together. Death can tear healthy families apart in their grief, but for Zauner, it seems like it was more of an originally benignly indifferent relationship that drifts away, unmoored. It was nice to see that depicted; usually families are depicted in terms of love or hate, not indifference.
Although Zauner doesn't say it explicitly, surely this indifferent dissolution highlights just how special her relationship with her mother was. Explosive, yes, but meaningful. There are few relatives for Zauner to lean on in her grief--her similarly suffering father with whom she does not connect, or the relatives half a world away who barely speak English. Zauner chooses to lean on the latter, but the gap is evident.
I am sorry, truly, that Zauner went through what she did. Cancer sucks. It is a reminder that those around us are ephemeral... an important reminder for everyone important in our lives, but especially the people who kind of drive us crazy. Sometimes driving us crazy is part of being close.
Crying in H-Mart explores the relationship between Michelle Zauner and her mother, and the grief Zauner struggles with during her mother's battle with and subsequent loss to cancer. Zauner's mother is a force of energy, harsh, domineering, particular, in a way that understandably drives Zauner crazy as a teen. However, as Zauner grows into early adulthood, she finally begins to appreciate her mother more ... just in time for cancer to cruelly take her away.
While Zauner was well on her way to reconciling her relationship with her mother, cancer truly shines a light on the nature of their relationship and puts into perspective. Yes, her mother could be domineering and controlling; yes, her mother cared about things Zauner didn't; yes, they butted heads. But Zauner's mother, for all her flaws, loved Zauner deeply. All the little things Zauner found annoying or too much as a kid, she grows to appreciate as she comes to terms with the fact that soon she will not experience it ever again. Zauner's mom really, truly loved her, Zauner comes to realize, and all of the conflict was just emblematic of that love. Sometimes we don't know how meaningful something is until we lose it. The grieving process is a long and protracted one, as Zauner watches her mother slowly wither away too soon, ravaged by cancer.
While Crying in H-Mart shines on its own merit in its exploration and celebration of a complicated mother-child relationship, it is not merely that. It is also an exploration of what it means to be Korean, Korean-American, and half-Korean. A simple but potent example: comforting her mother with Korean food is impossible because Zauner never learned how to make any, making her feel insufficiently Korean. Remaining connected with her Korean family, a connection point to her mother, is challenging because she barely speaks the language. As a racially ambiguous half-Korean, her mother's presence would wordlessly explain her Koreanness; without her mother, Zauner is merely white-passing, half her identity erased. In a family wordlessly fractured by language barriers, Korean food was one thing everyone could enjoy and bond over, and, unsurprisingly, Zauner finds healing in it as her mother passes. It is the ultimate way to remember her without language. What does it mean to be Korean, really?
The complexity of Zauner's relationship with her father is less of a focus, but one I appreciated, as well. A "happy" version of this book would involve growing closer to her father. Instead, it pushes them further away. While Zauner doesn't seem to dislike her father growing up, her mother's death forces her to more critically evaluate her relationship with him. Her mother, she realizes, is the glue that keeps everyone together, and without her, Zauner and her father have little keeping them together. Death can tear healthy families apart in their grief, but for Zauner, it seems like it was more of an originally benignly indifferent relationship that drifts away, unmoored. It was nice to see that depicted; usually families are depicted in terms of love or hate, not indifference.
Although Zauner doesn't say it explicitly, surely this indifferent dissolution highlights just how special her relationship with her mother was. Explosive, yes, but meaningful. There are few relatives for Zauner to lean on in her grief--her similarly suffering father with whom she does not connect, or the relatives half a world away who barely speak English. Zauner chooses to lean on the latter, but the gap is evident.
I am sorry, truly, that Zauner went through what she did. Cancer sucks. It is a reminder that those around us are ephemeral... an important reminder for everyone important in our lives, but especially the people who kind of drive us crazy. Sometimes driving us crazy is part of being close.