The most recommended books about Chinese Americans

I love books that deal with justice and make you feel strong emotions. This book did that and more.

The story included discrimination against Chinese and Black Americans in the South in the early 1900s. The plot was moving, riveting and the writing was impeccable.

I'd often stop and be amazed at the wonderful way the author strung her words together. Stacey Lee is a talented and unique writer. It was filled with love, hope, and surprises. 

This is a fantastic book about the hardships many immigrants face, from being taken advantage of by their employers, to language barriers, and of course, racism. What I loved about this book is its portrayal of community. Growing up poor, I know that it’s often those with nothing who give the most. Kids will cheer for Mia as she works the front desk, helps those around her, and stands up to injustice.

In this book, Lisa See drops us into the lives of three young women of Asian descent who were fighting to make their way in a city and society that saw them as “dolls” rather than people. The friendship at the heart of the novel is compelling, but I am equally impressed by See’s historical research.

She weaves her fictional characters through real events, people, places, and cultures. I often shy away from “historical fiction” as a genre, cringing at the license some authors take with the history side of things, but See is an excellent social historian and storyteller. I loved this opportunity to visit World War II America, the entertainment industry, and, most especially, San Francisco’s Chinatown through the eyes of these women. 

A much more recent book that can be read in conjunction with The Handmaid’s Tale.

I had no idea what to expect from this novel and was truly gripped by the unfolding tale of a world in which women are incarcerated for being deemed bad mothers. I am not going to give away any of the plot here, as the power of the book depends on its unfolding horror.

D W Winnicott's definition of the ‘good enough' mother resonated with me throughout this book, and I do worry that we are facing this dystopian reality in a 21st-century America that puts fetal rights before those of women and families. 

Chua set off an international firestorm with her memoir, a frank account of the trials and tribulations of raising her two daughters the Chinese way in the U.S. Her strict, achievement-oriented parenting tactics often run counter to mainstream Western ideals about raising children and have drawn harsh criticism from many readers. Whether you agree with her methods or not, it’s impossible not to be touched by Chua’s book. 

In this debut collection, Zhang writes so well about the peculiar loneliness of living far from home. 

I grew up in Scotland, and I never get to go back there as often as I would like, or to stay as long, so I have huge sympathy for her characters, many of whom are immigrants who can’t stop thinking about the places and the people they’ve left behind.

I love that in these stories, making jello salad or getting a perm can be a major event.

This book was extremely poignant. It may not be intended for the youngest of readers. I admit, I read it on my own. But the message was deep. Children from preschool to teenage can have strong feelings about their parents’ behaviors. But what young children don’t often (can’t often) understand is where, in their parents’ history, those behaviors are born out of.

This story takes something as simple as foraging for watercress on the side of the road and examines where, in the narrator’s parents’ history, that behavior comes from. It’s sorrowful, haunting, and hopeful all at the same time. This is a beautiful book to address the “big feelings” of embarrassment kids may feel about their parents without understanding the reasoning behind their patent’s actions.

I loved the echoes of culture I experienced with this novel, which has a Chinese American protagonist. The cultural expectations and even tidbits of language made me feel represented.

I also admired that Vanessa could tell fortunes through examining the dregs of a teacup; as a tea lover, I wholeheartedly endorsed the notion. I was already familiar with Lim’s storytelling and knew I’d be in for a treat of a read, especially one filled with vivid details of Paris and its excellent culinary ambiance.

The experience of being a teenage exchange student living with a Beijing family whose mother is dying of cancer and whose father makes an aborted sexual pass on her marked Solimine deeply enough to inspire this novel. The author wisely shifts the focus away from herself and adopts the role of frame narrator as she reconstructs the family’s history and events leading up to her arrival, where she inserts herself into the story. The narrative unfolds in flashbacks, impressionistic vignettes, and haunting poetic imagery to capture fleeting moments which build in intensity. It’s the kind of novel readers may not find easygoing on first acquaintance – the cracked-glass cover design nicely conveys the initial impression – but promises to improve on rereading.

This book is a gripping story that reads like a thrilling noir caper.

I felt drawn into the main character’s story, both as she navigated the mystery and in her stirring relationship with her family. The intersection of her identity as a queer woman from a Chinese-American family provided so much of the story’s heart and stakes—I found myself reading to see how these tensions would resolve as much as to figure out whodunnit.