June Hayward is a struggling writer. She went to Yale with current literary darling Athena Liu, with whom she's always had a complicated relationship. Are they friends or enemies? Whatever they are, June is with Athena at her apartment when Athena dies in an accident. And then June, whether in shock or in a calculated move, steals the only extant copy of Athena's recently finished manuscript about the neglected contributions of Chinese labourers on the WWI front, rationalizing that she will edit the rough manuscript to make it publishable. Only she rewrites so much in the editing process that she ultimately submits the manuscript to her agent as her own work. The book, which goes on to be a runaway bestseller, is published under the name Juniper Song (which is actually June's name: Juniper Song Hayward) with a racially ambiguous author photo. June is not, however, of Chinese descent, which raises the question of who gets to tell certain stories and highlights the lie of marketing. As the furor over June's identity escalates, she is also working hard to conceal the fact that the novel itself was Athena's and that she stole it.
June narrates the novel, making bad choice after bad choice, arguing that she herself would have found great success as a writer (her one book was published with a whimper) if she was not white. She is a complicated and eminently unlikable character with her wrong ideas and her grasping to hold onto the fame she has found, by any means necessary. She is not the only unlikable character here though. All of the characters are spiky and flawed, as is publishing itself. The industry is the subject of wicked, pointed satire, showcasing its penchant for choosing a single literary darling to be the voice of all people of a certain race. The dramatic narrative tension, as June scrambles to try and stay ahead of the rising backlash and finds herself terrorized by the perfect anonymity and hate of social media, is very well done.
This is very much a novel of our time, one of secrets, cultural appropriation and identity politics, racism, and diversity in publishing. That Kuang has made a novel with no likable characters so very readable is masterful. And let's not forget the delicious irony of an Asian American writer writing a novel centering a white author pretending to be an Asian American author. Layers upon layers upon layers.
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