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A review by purplepierogi
Speak, Okinawa: A Memoir by Elizabeth Miki Brina
update bc first take was too harsh :/
this is a memoir that unearths the most intimate dregs of who the author is, her many personal and professional failures, internalized self hatred, an elaborate analysis of her parents marriage, lost decades unable to empathize or connect with her Okinawan mother, many many anecdotes of ways she hurt and failed her mother and herself, and asks us, readers, to understand her and absolve her of all this. can a book be both a sincere apology and also a public record of every horrible, hurtful thing you’ve ever thought about your mother, of her own most intimate failings, published for the whole world to see?
on one hand, memoir /is/ the most raw and intimate scraped out and presented for mass consumption — and this book is part of her healing process. none of us can fully know her life, her story to tell, and she has a right to present that narrative to us. as a thoughtful, searing look at complex people, the book sings. it’s not my job as a reader to judge, but to understand the slice of her life, her inner world, that she has shared.
on the other hand, does she share stories that are not hers to share, to frame ?
major themes here are reckoning with inter generational trauma, reclaiming a heritage once denied by overpowering whiteness and shame, reconnecting with her mother and finally understanding her mother’s experiences. including okinawan history narrative is great, vital for readers unfamiliar. but I question the use of the “we” so extensively on all these experiences of profound suffering of Okinawan women. it’s jarring to read the book, one page how disconnected she is from Okinawa and on another page claiming that trauma and history through the pronoun “we,” to me, speaking over Okinawan voices.
this is a memoir that unearths the most intimate dregs of who the author is, her many personal and professional failures, internalized self hatred, an elaborate analysis of her parents marriage, lost decades unable to empathize or connect with her Okinawan mother, many many anecdotes of ways she hurt and failed her mother and herself, and asks us, readers, to understand her and absolve her of all this. can a book be both a sincere apology and also a public record of every horrible, hurtful thing you’ve ever thought about your mother, of her own most intimate failings, published for the whole world to see?
on one hand, memoir /is/ the most raw and intimate scraped out and presented for mass consumption — and this book is part of her healing process. none of us can fully know her life, her story to tell, and she has a right to present that narrative to us. as a thoughtful, searing look at complex people, the book sings. it’s not my job as a reader to judge, but to understand the slice of her life, her inner world, that she has shared.
on the other hand, does she share stories that are not hers to share, to frame ?
major themes here are reckoning with inter generational trauma, reclaiming a heritage once denied by overpowering whiteness and shame, reconnecting with her mother and finally understanding her mother’s experiences. including okinawan history narrative is great, vital for readers unfamiliar. but I question the use of the “we” so extensively on all these experiences of profound suffering of Okinawan women. it’s jarring to read the book, one page how disconnected she is from Okinawa and on another page claiming that trauma and history through the pronoun “we,” to me, speaking over Okinawan voices.