A review by stephanieridiculous
My Father, the Panda Killer by Jamie Jo Hoang

4.0

This was super griping/engaging and left me with a lot of conflicting emotions. I think that's part of the point, but I'm having a hard time unpacking it. Here are some thoughts in list form.

-Just, so many trigger warnings. I was pretty quickly surprised that this is considered YA and it's not something I would really recommend to most teenagers I know. TW for child abuse, neglect, abandonment, sexual assault, war, violence, domestic abuse, animal abuse, and more. 

-I love an unreliable narrator!

-This entire book boils down to Jane trying to understand her father, their family, and their culture. There's a lot of interesting stuff as a result of that; reconnecting with her culture and changing her opinions on other immigrants pretty significantly, coming into her own regarding decisions about her future and why she's making them, and some direct acknowledgement regarding breaking the cycles of abuse & struggling with the impact her abuse has had on her own processing of anger/emotions. Those were all really really great. 

-In the process of the above, though, Jane is also coming to terms with why her father is so abusive, and this is where the book becomes complicated for me. It should be complicated, granted, as generational trauma is a very complicated thing. It's not comfortable or easy or simple to live in a home that contains deep and complex trauma, or to be part of a wider culture and community that contains deep and complex trauma. What I did like about this exploration was how genuine and authentic it felt, but this is also the genesis of a lot of my concerns, too. 

In many ways Jane's telling of her father's story is an effort to normalize his abuse, and the goal is pretty clearly to explain to her brother why their dad beats them. Understanding dad's trauma is certainly a worthwhile and important undertaking (although I am conflicted about children taking that on), but the impact, I think, is essentially normalizing and accepting that abusive behavior from him & their community at large. I have deep concerns about a young person (or anyone, really) reading this and concluding their own abuse is something they shouldn't take to anyone because of how abuse is handled in this story. It's definitely not the authors job to teach their readers on how to navigate their own personal experiences; the authors job is to tell the story they're trying to convey and I think that is done well here. However, it's also laid out pretty explicitly that you shouldn't meddle in another families business. 

Specifically, (spoilers) Jane's friend Jackie tells her mom about how Jane is being abused at home. We learn that Jackie's mom chews her out for tattling on Jane, and lectures her about how spoiled she is, how she doesn't understand, how it's none of her business, etc. etc. This is in line with the wider narrative about trauma being complex, but is also furthering this notion that what Jane and Paul are going through is acceptable (even if not ideal.) The conversation between Jane and Jackie about this in particular drives home that, essentially, this is an issue of culture and Jackie is too Americanized and doesn't understand & has no right to be upset/worried/concerned for her friend, or want better for her. While Jane's attitude about this is entirely in line with the way abuse victims often rationalize their experience, it isn't fully challenged in the narrative and as a result I think if you are navigating similar waters and are unsure what to believe, this book will reinforce ideas like "if you didn't mess up you wouldn't get beat" and "I deserve this" and "this is my fault" and generally that abusing children is mostly a matter of cultural differences. And to be clear, in case you haven't read this yet, we're not talking about differing opinions of what routine discipline looks like. We're talking about full on violent and vicious beatings that leave marks for weeks, on children.

Jane does a lot of grappling re: why dad is this way, and how it isn't excusable, but in the end she does excuse him. She accepts it, and is prepping Paul to do the same by explaining their dad's story so he will understand why their dad treats them the way he does. The narration goes to great lengths to establish that dad is both bad and good, and you can't separate that out - and in many ways tries to drive home that you have to accept both. The book is, essentially, about Jane conditioning Paul to navigate dads abuse the way she did - bearing down under it, doing better to avoid provoking him, and having compassion for dad because of what he has endured. Dad deserves compassion! And maybe it's unfair to put the weight of dispelling all of this on Jane, but I wish she had talked with Paul about how dad's abuse isn't indicative of their worth - that it's a reflection of their dad, not of them. That's an unreasonable request, as I don't think Jane believes that and it takes a long time to abuse victims to unpack that; I just wish someone had really championed that message and planted that seed in a way that was cultivated instead of shot down like Jackie's concerns were. 

I do maintain that it isn't the authors job to explain to people the nuances of reality, but I am longing for some kind of acknowledgement that if you are being abused like Jane is, you should - or can -  seek help. A list of resources in the back, perhaps. I know that desire from me is rooted in western ideals of family dynamics and the privilege that if I needed to call the authorities I likely wouldn't come to harm from those who showed up - and that Jane's father does not share that privilege. I know that my grappling with this issue stems from a different lived experience with a different context, and that those things really do matter here & influence the way I receive this book. That the book has stirred me to such conflicted emotions is a indication of story told well, no doubt. I am unsure I'll be recommending this to anyone, though, or at least I will be very intentional in how I recommend it. This is not a book for the faint of heart.