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A review by brice_mo
Speak, Okinawa: A Memoir by Elizabeth Miki Brina
3.0
Such an interesting collection of ideas that never quite coalesce as a whole.
I loved reading this book, and I felt consistently engaged in both Elizabeth Miki Brina's personal history and Okinawa's history, but these two narratives often feel like they were in tension with each other, which prevents the memoir from having a clear thematic core. One could make the argument that it's an intentional move to show how the author's identity feels fragmented, but this is never explored in a way that makes that ambiguity feel like a narrative resolution.
Unfortunately, I think the linguistic rift between the author and her mother obscures the relationship that—it seems—is supposed to be the book's beating heart. Readers spend a great deal of time with Brina's father, but her mother is felt only as a kind of absence. This is explicitly addressed, but I question whether the mother's depiction is at her expense—perpetuating the struggles Brina addresses throughout.
I hope these critiques do not sound too harsh—this is easily one of my favorite books I've read this year, and it is one I will think about for quite some time to come. It opened my eyes to a whole piece of history I knew nothing about, and I'm curious to learn more. I'll also eagerly read anything else that Elizabeth Miki Brina publishes because there's so much good here, and I'd love to see her pursue some of these themes in the future.
I loved reading this book, and I felt consistently engaged in both Elizabeth Miki Brina's personal history and Okinawa's history, but these two narratives often feel like they were in tension with each other, which prevents the memoir from having a clear thematic core. One could make the argument that it's an intentional move to show how the author's identity feels fragmented, but this is never explored in a way that makes that ambiguity feel like a narrative resolution.
Unfortunately, I think the linguistic rift between the author and her mother obscures the relationship that—it seems—is supposed to be the book's beating heart. Readers spend a great deal of time with Brina's father, but her mother is felt only as a kind of absence. This is explicitly addressed, but I question whether the mother's depiction is at her expense—perpetuating the struggles Brina addresses throughout.
I hope these critiques do not sound too harsh—this is easily one of my favorite books I've read this year, and it is one I will think about for quite some time to come. It opened my eyes to a whole piece of history I knew nothing about, and I'm curious to learn more. I'll also eagerly read anything else that Elizabeth Miki Brina publishes because there's so much good here, and I'd love to see her pursue some of these themes in the future.