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A review by perpetualpages
Portrait of a Thief by Grace D. Li
adventurous
emotional
informative
mysterious
reflective
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
CWs: Some instances of experienced racism and xenophobia; some exploration of cancer, parental death, and grief
Portrait of Thief is a story that instantly caught my attention with the synopsis. There's something especially alluring about having an all-Asian heist that promises to grapple with the legacies of colonialism, racism, and the American Dream all in one story.
In the end, I think I was satisfied, in general, by how this book is able to thread those needles, but I also worry that potential readers might go in with uninformed expectations. So let me just say this: if you go into this book hoping for a high-octane heist that's bordering on a crime-thriller, you might be disappointed. It has those aspects at times, but that isn't the entire picture. The story is more on the literary side in how it explores generational diaspora, the effects of colonialism, and what these characters are willing to risk in order to achieve their dreams.
What stood out to me immediately about this group of characters is how perfectly ordinary they seem and how their approach to these heists, as inexperienced college students, feels very realistic. I love how even though they're all Ivy League students (or Ivy League dropouts in some cases) they don't have everything figured out. Heist stories usually require some suspension of disbelief, and while Portrait of a Thief requires that to some extent, it also doesn't make out its characters to be these highly-skilled, superhuman experts. Yes, they all specialize in certain areas that can contribute to pulling off these heists, but they're not perfect and they don't know everything.
That makes them somewhat endearing to me, especially because they sort of approach these heists as if they're a big group project. When they first agree to take on this job, they meet over Zoom and they start by watching heist movies together and comparing notes in a Google Doc. Mileage is definitely gonna vary on those details, depending on the reader, but I personally found that approach to be both funny and relatable, because these characters are students and not criminal masterminds. I appreciate that they're making the most of those collaborative resources and research methods that they can readily access.
I also appreciate the complex dynamics within the group, because the relationships between the characters are not the same across the board. Will and Irene, for example, are siblings, and there's a much more fraught history between them, and while their closeness could be an advantage, they also intimately know each other's weaknesses. Some of these collaborators are even strangers before the story begins, and there's no established baseline of trust between them, which can also cause a lot of tension. Some of these characters are exes, some of them are currently in love with each other, which only further complicates these heists, where any emotionally-charged action could jeopardize the entire mission.
But of course, the major highlight of this story is the way it promises to contend with colonialism in relation to art and how, historically, artwork has often been seen as a trophy of conquest passing between the hands of whoever lays claim to it. I really respect how the story engages with that complicated history, but most especially with how it ties into the characters' experiences of diaspora, which are all very different. On the surface, they tell themselves that stealing back these priceless pieces of Chinese artwork is "the right thing to do" because these artifacts belong in the places they were created, but there's a deeper layer of motivation for all of them, which is that they long for a concrete connection to China within their own right.
As children of diaspora, they feel removed from China—emotionally, socially, culturally, logistically—and they're desperate to be tied to their ancestral homeland in a way that can be observed, quantified, and unquestioned. That is the main motivator for all of them, whether they were born in China themselves or not. In that sense, the story makes a powerful statement about what it means to lay claim to your culture and your heritage when it has always been denied to you because of where you live or what language you speak.
The heists themselves also prove to be an apt metaphor for leading two different lives, as many children of diaspora often describe their experiences. For these characters, there's a stark disconnect between what they're doing under the cover of darkness and the person they're expected to be in broad daylight. Their everyday lives and roles almost seem to exist on completely different planes, and they start to question whether their "true" selves are the people willing to take dangerous risks or the pristine, accomplished students and future professionals that everyone else wants to see. Is it possible for them to be both things at once, or will they ultimately have to make a choice?
In my opinion, even though the circumstances seem extraordinary on the surface, there's a level of believability to the character motivation and the stakes. For these characters to be undergrads makes a strange kind of sense to me, because they're inhabiting a unique space where they have nothing to lose and everything to lose all the same time. Because our society operates on the false belief that a person's "real life" doesn't truly begin until after they graduate, these characters are being suspended in this liminal space between "student life" and "real life" where their future seems to hang on every choice. Most of them don't have careers yet, so they don't have "much" to lose, comparatively, but they're also facing severely limited options and tons of debt as the price tag for their education, and they know that cash reward could make a significant difference.
As young Asian-American people, especially, who have to contend with the "model minority" expectation and whose parents have instilled the value of the American Dream deep in their consciousness, they have all the motivation they need not to fail. They've always been taught to strive for greatness, no matter the cost, and they're going to apply that mentality to these heists just as much as anything else they've tried to achieve. As criminals, in a way, they are perfect products of the academic system doing exactly what they were designed to do: risk everything for greatness and success.
So, thematically, there's a lot going on under the surface of this story, and I think that's what makes it so compelling. There's a strong balance of those personal threads with the actual heist sequences, and like I said before, I think the outcome is fairly believable, all things considered.
With that said, I think this story could've been even stronger. I found myself wishing that the characters' parents were more present throughout the story, especially given how much parental pressure inadvertently factors into their choices. Daniel's father was pretty much the only parent given any page time, and in fairness I think it was mostly for plot reasons because he works with the FBI. Related to that, I also feel like there's a level of convenience and privilege that is never properly addressed in the book. Yes, for the most part these characters are operating on this shadow corporation's dime, but they're also Ivy League students who have access to a lot of capital, they have insider information, they're flying to all these different countries, they have all these doors open for them, and the story never really grapples with that in a meaningful way.
Additionally, while the story does briefly touch on the irony of China, as an imperialist nation itself, wanting to reclaim its artwork from other imperialist nations, I think the story could've used even more of that commentary and historical context. There were also some supporting characters who came into the story about halfway through whose role in the overarching plot didn't make a lot of sense. I won't say anything else for fear of spoiling the book, but their inclusion just added to that element of convenience hanging over the conclusion of the story.
But even with those missed opportunities, I still think this is a fascinating story that offers the reader so much to think about. As a self-contained story, it's incredibly ambitious and it's also a fast-paced debut that makes me excited to see what else Grace D. Li writes. I know it's already been picked up by Netflix, I believe, for on screen adaptation, and honestly it might work even better as a TV series. Either way, I would watch the hell out of it any day of the week. I think if potential readers adjust their expectations accordingly, then this could be an incredibly exciting and memorable read for many folks this year.
Portrait of Thief is a story that instantly caught my attention with the synopsis. There's something especially alluring about having an all-Asian heist that promises to grapple with the legacies of colonialism, racism, and the American Dream all in one story.
In the end, I think I was satisfied, in general, by how this book is able to thread those needles, but I also worry that potential readers might go in with uninformed expectations. So let me just say this: if you go into this book hoping for a high-octane heist that's bordering on a crime-thriller, you might be disappointed. It has those aspects at times, but that isn't the entire picture. The story is more on the literary side in how it explores generational diaspora, the effects of colonialism, and what these characters are willing to risk in order to achieve their dreams.
What stood out to me immediately about this group of characters is how perfectly ordinary they seem and how their approach to these heists, as inexperienced college students, feels very realistic. I love how even though they're all Ivy League students (or Ivy League dropouts in some cases) they don't have everything figured out. Heist stories usually require some suspension of disbelief, and while Portrait of a Thief requires that to some extent, it also doesn't make out its characters to be these highly-skilled, superhuman experts. Yes, they all specialize in certain areas that can contribute to pulling off these heists, but they're not perfect and they don't know everything.
That makes them somewhat endearing to me, especially because they sort of approach these heists as if they're a big group project. When they first agree to take on this job, they meet over Zoom and they start by watching heist movies together and comparing notes in a Google Doc. Mileage is definitely gonna vary on those details, depending on the reader, but I personally found that approach to be both funny and relatable, because these characters are students and not criminal masterminds. I appreciate that they're making the most of those collaborative resources and research methods that they can readily access.
I also appreciate the complex dynamics within the group, because the relationships between the characters are not the same across the board. Will and Irene, for example, are siblings, and there's a much more fraught history between them, and while their closeness could be an advantage, they also intimately know each other's weaknesses. Some of these collaborators are even strangers before the story begins, and there's no established baseline of trust between them, which can also cause a lot of tension. Some of these characters are exes, some of them are currently in love with each other, which only further complicates these heists, where any emotionally-charged action could jeopardize the entire mission.
But of course, the major highlight of this story is the way it promises to contend with colonialism in relation to art and how, historically, artwork has often been seen as a trophy of conquest passing between the hands of whoever lays claim to it. I really respect how the story engages with that complicated history, but most especially with how it ties into the characters' experiences of diaspora, which are all very different. On the surface, they tell themselves that stealing back these priceless pieces of Chinese artwork is "the right thing to do" because these artifacts belong in the places they were created, but there's a deeper layer of motivation for all of them, which is that they long for a concrete connection to China within their own right.
As children of diaspora, they feel removed from China—emotionally, socially, culturally, logistically—and they're desperate to be tied to their ancestral homeland in a way that can be observed, quantified, and unquestioned. That is the main motivator for all of them, whether they were born in China themselves or not. In that sense, the story makes a powerful statement about what it means to lay claim to your culture and your heritage when it has always been denied to you because of where you live or what language you speak.
The heists themselves also prove to be an apt metaphor for leading two different lives, as many children of diaspora often describe their experiences. For these characters, there's a stark disconnect between what they're doing under the cover of darkness and the person they're expected to be in broad daylight. Their everyday lives and roles almost seem to exist on completely different planes, and they start to question whether their "true" selves are the people willing to take dangerous risks or the pristine, accomplished students and future professionals that everyone else wants to see. Is it possible for them to be both things at once, or will they ultimately have to make a choice?
In my opinion, even though the circumstances seem extraordinary on the surface, there's a level of believability to the character motivation and the stakes. For these characters to be undergrads makes a strange kind of sense to me, because they're inhabiting a unique space where they have nothing to lose and everything to lose all the same time. Because our society operates on the false belief that a person's "real life" doesn't truly begin until after they graduate, these characters are being suspended in this liminal space between "student life" and "real life" where their future seems to hang on every choice. Most of them don't have careers yet, so they don't have "much" to lose, comparatively, but they're also facing severely limited options and tons of debt as the price tag for their education, and they know that cash reward could make a significant difference.
As young Asian-American people, especially, who have to contend with the "model minority" expectation and whose parents have instilled the value of the American Dream deep in their consciousness, they have all the motivation they need not to fail. They've always been taught to strive for greatness, no matter the cost, and they're going to apply that mentality to these heists just as much as anything else they've tried to achieve. As criminals, in a way, they are perfect products of the academic system doing exactly what they were designed to do: risk everything for greatness and success.
So, thematically, there's a lot going on under the surface of this story, and I think that's what makes it so compelling. There's a strong balance of those personal threads with the actual heist sequences, and like I said before, I think the outcome is fairly believable, all things considered.
With that said, I think this story could've been even stronger. I found myself wishing that the characters' parents were more present throughout the story, especially given how much parental pressure inadvertently factors into their choices. Daniel's father was pretty much the only parent given any page time, and in fairness I think it was mostly for plot reasons because he works with the FBI. Related to that, I also feel like there's a level of convenience and privilege that is never properly addressed in the book. Yes, for the most part these characters are operating on this shadow corporation's dime, but they're also Ivy League students who have access to a lot of capital, they have insider information, they're flying to all these different countries, they have all these doors open for them, and the story never really grapples with that in a meaningful way.
Additionally, while the story does briefly touch on the irony of China, as an imperialist nation itself, wanting to reclaim its artwork from other imperialist nations, I think the story could've used even more of that commentary and historical context. There were also some supporting characters who came into the story about halfway through whose role in the overarching plot didn't make a lot of sense. I won't say anything else for fear of spoiling the book, but their inclusion just added to that element of convenience hanging over the conclusion of the story.
But even with those missed opportunities, I still think this is a fascinating story that offers the reader so much to think about. As a self-contained story, it's incredibly ambitious and it's also a fast-paced debut that makes me excited to see what else Grace D. Li writes. I know it's already been picked up by Netflix, I believe, for on screen adaptation, and honestly it might work even better as a TV series. Either way, I would watch the hell out of it any day of the week. I think if potential readers adjust their expectations accordingly, then this could be an incredibly exciting and memorable read for many folks this year.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Racism, Xenophobia, and Death of parent
Minor: Grief and Cancer