Weaving in vivid descriptions of enticing Asian home-cooked dishes and turbulent navigation through her adolescence, Michelle Zauner unequivocally recounts her seemingly unshakable bond with her mother that was forged in childhood. She paints a picture of how this relationship falls apart and is rebuilt with emotional vulnerability, poignant dialogues, and unmoving devastations. My first assumption towards a memoir is that it is tailored uniquely for the author and the author only. Yet Zauner’s memoir surprisingly served as a mirror for young Asian Americans to affirm similar parallels in our upbringings. Perhaps, we grew up with too little affirmation and too many criticisms from our parents. Perhaps the ever-so-slight resentment swells up in your chest every time you see other families casually announcing their love for each other. But Zauner is here to remind us of the impending doom we all have to face somehow—our parents will no longer be here with us one day.
A Review on Crying in H Mart
A Review on Crying in H Mart
A Review on Crying in H Mart
Weaving in vivid descriptions of enticing Asian home-cooked dishes and turbulent navigation through her adolescence, Michelle Zauner unequivocally recounts her seemingly unshakable bond with her mother that was forged in childhood. She paints a picture of how this relationship falls apart and is rebuilt with emotional vulnerability, poignant dialogues, and unmoving devastations. My first assumption towards a memoir is that it is tailored uniquely for the author and the author only. Yet Zauner’s memoir surprisingly served as a mirror for young Asian Americans to affirm similar parallels in our upbringings. Perhaps, we grew up with too little affirmation and too many criticisms from our parents. Perhaps the ever-so-slight resentment swells up in your chest every time you see other families casually announcing their love for each other. But Zauner is here to remind us of the impending doom we all have to face somehow—our parents will no longer be here with us one day.