Reading 2024
Book 51: The Manicurist's Daughter by Susan Lieu

Saw this on a few most anticipated books of 2024 lists. #Netgalley had this one as a Read Now selection so I scooped it up for my Kindle.

Synopsis: An emotionally raw memoir about the crumbling of the American Dream and a daughter of refugees who searches for answers after her mother dies during plastic surgery.

Review: Manicurist’s Daughter was an intense look at family, tragedy, body image, immigrant experience, and life. It took me a while to get into the book, the chapters were long and I would fall asleep since I read my Kindle in bed. After I got settled into the groove of this memoir, it was really good. The month of February was a big memoir month for me for some reason. Again my rating for memoirs is something I base on my connection with the story. 4⭐️.

The Manicurist’s Daughter is a beautifully written memoir by Susan Lieu.

Susan Lieu’s family immigrated to the US from Vietnam in 1980s. Over the next few years her mother set up two successful nail salons and orchestrated their success. When Susan was eleven, her mother passed away from a botched tummy tuck surgery. After the funeral, nobody was allowed to talk about her what happened and to Susan, so much was a mystery.

Over the course of the next twenty years, Susan kept searching for the answers to her questions: why would the most perfect person in her life want to alter her body that way? Why will nobody tell her about her mother’s past in Vietnam? How did the surgeon who performed the procedure go on operating after her death.

As she tries to find answers to these questions, she’s also working through processing her own grief and her own life, especially as her father remarries and her mother’s family move out of their house. She’s not fully sure she’s going down the right path career wise and without knowing her mother’s story, you get the sense that she’s not fully whole without it.

The detail that Susan has allowed the reader to learn about her family feels so welcoming in this story. It feels like we’re right there with her, reading the depositions from her mother’s case and trying to get the answers she needs to find peace. I really liked this aspect of her story. It just felt so welcoming and open.

I really enjoyed this memoir.

Thank you to Netgalley and Celadon Books for this ARC in exchange for a honest review.

This is a good book, but it was slightly repetitive for me. Susan Lieu did a good job describing her life story and the complicated story of her mother, but something felt missing. I love non-fiction books, but I didn't connect with the author. There was something about Lieu I just didn't like. She came across as a know-it-all and busybody. I don't think there was enough material for a full-length book but caused the story to feel repetitive and underwhelming. I wish this book would've tugged at my heartstrings more. It was just ok. I will say whoever did the cover art for this book did a phenomenal job. Wow. That's one of the most beautiful covers I've ever seen.

Thank you, Netgalley and Celadon for the digital ARC.

The Manicurist’s Daughter depicts Lieu’s journey to grieve her mother’s death after an elective cosmetic surgery and go through womanhood as a first-generation Vietnamese-American without her. While this memoir tackles serious topics, like intergenerational trauma, impossible beauty standards, and classism in the United States, Lieu manages to insert humor as well. Overall, this was a well-written memoir that I strongly recommend you add to your shelf!

“My mother was dead, but in a sense, we were too, and I was powerless to change it.”

The Manicurist’s Daughter is a raw and evocative memoir about grief, intergenerational trauma, family, language, culture, food, body image, spirituality and self-discovery. In this book, Susan Lieu details her experiences of growing up as child of Vietnamese refugees who fled Vietnam in the 1980s to build a new life in America, no matter what the odds. Through their parents’ blood, sweat and tears, they established Susan’s Nails, a nail salon in California, which eventually expanded to a second location. However at age 11, they lost their mother when she died during a tummy tuck procedure.

It’s a devastating yet inspiring read. As someone who grew up in an Asian household, it is very easy to relate to Lieu’s stories.

“I was not taught to listen to my body, I was taught to listen to my elders.”

The unexpected loss of their mother left her with unanswered questions that no one in her family was willing (or ready) to address. Her father, in particular, consistently dismissed her questions.

“Even on her death anniversary, when we huddled around her grave offering her foods, talking about her was off-limits.”

For two decades, she looked for answers. She went back to Vietnam to explore her roots and had a goal in mind to know who her Má really was as a sister, a daughter and as a person through the eyes of her relatives.

“How could I become a mother if I never knew my own?”

As Asians, we feel most loved through the food our parents and grandparents serve and prepare for us. We are conditioned to just obey whatever the elders in our family say and never attempt to talk back, even if they start voicing out unsolicited remarks about our bodies, which to them is just their way of expressing concern and affection.

“The center of my universe was governed by Má. As much as she was thrilling, she was terrorizing. She made up all the rules and everything would be fine as long as I never pissed her off. And so, gradually, this became my truth; my relationship to food was really about my relationship to family.”

This entire reading experience became more meaningful to me as it reminded me of how fortunate I am to still have precious time to spend with my parents. Also, this book led me to discover how memoirs that touches on Asian culture and traditions has become my favorite subgenre in books.

“If I really wanted to break the cycle of intergenerational trauma, I had to walk into the fire. It was time I stood up for myself.”

Big thanks to Celadon Books and Netgalley for the Digital Review Copy but most importantly, thank you to Susan Lieu for sharing your most vulnerable self to the world and showing us that the journey towards inner peace and forgiveness is both attainable and transformative.

[arc review]
Thank you to Celadon Books for providing an arc in exchange for an honest review.
The Manicurist’s Daughter releases March 12, 2024

This is a memoir that is rooted in decades of grief and trauma. It encapsulates one of many Asian immigrant family experiences while reflecting and navigating how the death of the author’s mother impacted so much of her childhood and shaped her as a person growing up.

I can imagine that for the author, telling this story was a healing journey, so I commend them for being so open and vulnerable, and I hope they gained the closure they were looking for.

cw: body shaming

I typically enjoy biographies and memoirs. And while I did enjoy the beginnings of The Manicurist’s Daughter, my interest waned after 54% I still managed to skim the remainder of the memoir and I don’t think I missed anything noteworthy.

As a reader that has a tendency to “mouth” foreign words and phrases, the constant barrage of Vietnamese names and phrases became a detriment to my ready enjoyment. I lost track of people and/or relatives, especially when there were only Vietnamese names involved. As such I probably would have enjoyed listening to an audiobook version so I wouldn’t have to fumble over pronunciations.

The memoir wasn’t what I was expecting. I thought the book would delve more into the body image/malpractice angle of her mother as well as the effects of the interratial marriage between her and her Korean husband. But, I just got smatterings of them.

The Manicurist’s Daughter wasn’t the best memoir that I’ve read. But it wasn’t the worst, either. Two okay stars.

I won an ARC from Celadon Books through the Bookish First raffle. I was also invited to read the DRC from Celadon Books through NetGalley. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.

“Seeking the truth was how I would avenge my mother’s death. I am the manicurist’s daughter, and this is our story.”
Susan lost her mother at a young age to a botched tummy tuck surgery. After her mother’s untimely passing, her family stopped speaking about her completely. They shut down and shut her out. They dealt with her death on their own.
When something tragic happens to us and we are forced to deal with it alone, the unexpressed and unprocessed grief we have can sit inside us for years, out of sight but not fully out of mind. If you let that grief sit there for decades, and then decide one day to try and let it out, it is not going to come out the way you want it to. It is going to explode.
“I had been quiet about my family story for twenty-one years, shaking the details back and forth like a two-liter soda bottle. When Paul, the instructor, asked me to speak, I tried to unscrew the cap with control, but it flew off like a cannon.”
Susan, now in her mid-thirties and planning to have a child, wants to give her dream another try. After all, how can she tell her kid to follow their dreams if she didn’t have the guts to go after her own?
When Susan opens up about what happened to her mother on stage, everything else she has kept bottled inside emerges to the surface. All the questions, all the memories, and all the regrets. And with it rises a need for Susan to know her mother, really know her, before becoming a mother herself. To know her mother she needs to take a trip to the past and reach out to the people who knew her mother the most but refuse to open up—her family.
In this memoir, Susan writes about her experiences with a lot of heavy topics—death, intergenerational trauma, impossible beauty standards, an unhealthy relationship with food, a hatred of her body, unprocessed grief, the unsafe American healthcare system, racism, and classism, but most important of all she talks about the complexity of family. She talks about her family’s impact on her view of her body and the life she apparently “needs” to lead, but also on how they try to show their love for her in their own way. She shows that though they are flawed, she is flawed too. But that does not mean healing is not possible. Despite all the years of suffering, people can come together and heal, even when you think they never will. That is the biggest lesson I can take away from this memoir—if you do some self reflection and put in the effort, you can change. It isn’t easy, but it can be done. If you let out the emotions that you’ve bottled up, you can heal. It is as Susan said: When we feel, we heal.
This memoir is full of emotion and is deeply moving. There was a time in the book when I could actually feel myself tearing up. This book has definitely taught me a lot about the nature of people and how we can heal even when we think we can’t. I simply cannot give it anything less than five stars.

Thanks, Celadon Books and Macmillian Audio, for the early review copies of the e-book and audiobook via NetGalley. (Available 12 Mar 24)

“On the last day of her life, Má, my Vietnamese refugee mother and proud owner of two nail salons, went in for plastic surgery—a tummy tuck, the narrowing of her nostrils, a chin implant—and figured she would be home the next day with her beautiful new body.”

I strongly recommend this memoir, especially as an audiobook. Susan Lieu is a Vietnamese-American who created, wrote, and performed an autobiographical solo theatre show, “140 LBS: How Beauty Killed My Mother.” In this memoir, she fleshes out more of the story of her life and her family’s trauma. The author is funny and a gifted performer, so audio is the way to go (also the best way to appreciate the beautiful Vietnamese language interspersed throughout).

I plan to reread this with my IRL book club read it later this year because there’s much to unpack. The author offers her personal insight into immigrant culture, Vietnamese traditions, generational trauma, and body shaming. I learned, laughed, and even cried a bit.

At about the halfway point it began to drag a bit, but this was still a really good memoir about loss, complicated family dynamics, the immigrant experience, and learning to forgive. If you like Vietnamese food, some of the meal descriptions will have you salivating! Overall a worthy read that would spark lively discussions at book clubs.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!

I found this to be a very insightful, reflective and deeply emotional memoir. Susan was not only vulnerable about grieving over her mother's death, but looked at how it impacted everyone in her family for decades. She was also very open about her own faults and worries as she also became a mother.

There were times when I found the writing a bit dry, but I enjoyed the emotional aspect of the memoir.

This is a story written with love, hurt and healing.

4.5 rounded up - A touching memoir that is a must for anyone who has a complicated relationship with their parents, especially immigrant families. I learned so much about Vietnamese culture that I didn’t know, and all the food descriptions left my mouth watering. The cultural beauty standards were incredibly interesting but also heartbreaking. My only criticism would be that occasionally the formatting felt a bit jarring with the reader jumping into Lieu’s memories mid chapter - but that is also a reflection of how memories work in real time. An important read overall.

I received a free e-arc of this book through Netgalley.
This memoir is very personal about the journey of the youngest daughter in a Vietnamese family with 4 children whose mother dies from botched plastic surgery when the younest is only 11. This is the youngest child, Susan's, path through grief and trying to understand who their mother was. A very emotional journey of discovery

The Manicurist's Daughter was thought-provoking for me in several different ways. Susan's mother, a Vietnamese immigrant to the United States, dies after having plastic surgery when she's thirty-eight years old, leaving behind a husband and four children. At the time, Susan was eleven years old. Reading about how hard the family worked to have a secure household makes me feel grateful that my family didn't have to worry as much, and that I had more time to be a kid. How much of that was having to start over in a new country with nothing, and how much of it was the drive of Susan's mother? How much of it was cultural expectations that made Susan's mother the way she was? Why did she feel the need to have plastic surgery so much - especially when it made up such a large part of the income that came in? Any young girl or woman who escapes objectification and criticism about her appearance is exceedingly rare. Even knowing what her mother went through, Susan constantly battles criticism from her family members about her weight. As someone who has also lost their mother (albeit at an older age) I understand when Susan wonders about what her mother would have thought of something, and to some extent views her with rose-colored glasses, even though her mother didn't sound overly maternal most of the time. I didn't always love how there would be occasional flashbacks, instead of being told sequentially, and I feel like it would be easier to experience the show about her mother and family that she talks about than hearing it described alongside the battle to get her family members to talk about her mother. Thought-provoking both from the perspective of coping with the loss of an important family member, and how the culture Susan was raised in affected how the family dealt with that loss and treated each other in the aftermath of it. A complimentary copy of this book was provided by the publisher. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Interesting book with a good topic. I liked reading about Susan’s life and the different phases she went through and also got so frustrated with her family at times. I think the main topic of finding out who her mom really was lagged a little bit and don’t feel like by the end the reader sees it. But her ‘coming to age’ moment at the very last 5% of the book sealed it.

Lieu's memoir explores her life before and after the death of her admirable mother, a brave and strong refugee woman (from Vietnam) who died due to complications of a tummy tuck. Woven throughout are Lieu's own issues with body image, exacerbated by the blunt and harsh comments of many of her immediate and extended family members. She also attempts to explore her mother's life and her family's grief alongside her family, however (at least partially due to culture), her family is not emotive and do not want to discuss the tragic nature of her mother's death. She begins working in theater and it becomes a means for here to explore her family's nail business, the anger at her mother's doctor, body image, and grief, as well as a way to publicly celebrate her mother. The memoir covers the bulk of Lieu's life but she does gloss over some events that do not include her mother (I wanted more emphasis on how she met and came to marry her husband, for example.) At times, Lieu's writing comes off as a bit amateurish - such as her penchant for exclamation marks, and her attempt to end the memoir on what felt like false positivity, as opposed to the reality which seemed to entail closure but difficult family dynamics. Still, I think those who enjoy memoirs that explore grief and/or the experiences of first generation Americans will enjoy thsi debut.

Very captivating story of immigrants and their children. The trauma that is passed down between generations. I felt like I was going through the process of therapy with the author in learning to deal with her feelings.

The Manicurist's Daughter by Susan Lieu is a memoir about Susan's journey through understanding and accepting her mother's early demise through the negligence of a plastic surgeon. But this book is much more than an exploration of grief and the many guises grief can take on. Susan is Vietnamese and explains many fascinating aspects of her heritage. From naming conventions to dietary and food traditions to interpersonal relationships and communications among the family, Susan Lieu explains Vietnamese life in a understandable and interesting way. This book and Ms Lieu's research into her mother's malpractice case shine a light on the mega issue of women's self identity and obsession with beauty and self-image. Being from the east coast, I was not familiar with Susan Lieu or her solo performances of 140 LBS: How Beauty Killed My Mother. I was able to see portions of the performance on-line and was as impressed with that as I was with her book. This is a story not only for minorities in the United States who may be taken advantage of, but for women young and old who all need to hear the message that 'we are enough'. The last line of the book was my absolute favorite because I get the irony in Ms. Lieu's declaration. I give this book four stars and would like to thank BookishFirst and Celadon books for getting an ARC in my hands.

So, this memoir dives deep into the life of Susan, the youngest daughter of a Vietnamese family. It's a real emotional rollercoaster, especially as she grapples with the loss of her mom, who tragically passed away in her thirties after a botched plastic surgery. Talk about heart-wrenching—especially since Susan had just had a fight with her mom that very morning, shouting that she hated her.

Their family ran two successful nail salons, and the book gives you a glimpse into that world—every little detail of opening up shop, dealing with clients, you name it. It's like being a fly on the wall in Susan's world, especially when her larger-than-life mom, Jennifer, was running the show.

But as Susan tries to piece together her mom's life and death, she faces frustration from her family, who'd rather move on than dig deep. She's determined though, digging into depositions from the malpractice case, making trips to Vietnam, and eventually creating a theatrical show to work through her grief.

Now, there were bits I really dug, like the insights into running the nail salons and the hustle of daily life. But I gotta admit, there were times when things felt a bit dragged out, especially towards the end. And keeping track of family members, especially with their Vietnamese names, got a bit confusing.

Overall, it's a solid read with an important message about beauty standards and the pressures women face. Big thanks to Celadon Books for hooking me up with an advance copy through NetGalley!

This was a 3.5 rounded up to 4 stars for me. The author, Susa Lieu, lost her hard-working and successful mother at a young age to plastic surgery gone wrong. She utilizes this event as a point from which to explore backward and forwards through her family's (and Vietnamese community's) history. Throughout this process, she is also writing about the varied ways in which we process grief and trauma. This is evidenced through cultural practices as well as her own process that eventually led to performance art. It was interesting to read about that part of it because clearly the writing of the book was also part of her journey so it would seem this is ongoing. I'd be curious to learn how she experiences this next part as more people learn about her and her family's story through the book and how it might be different from a theater performance setting.