An affecting set of essays based on Hong’s experience as an Asian American in America, how it impacted her childhood and later education, and the subtle (and not-so-subtle) racism that is still pervasive against Asians in America. As a white woman who grew up in suburban America, there were several moments throughout the book that gave me pause and asked me to step back and consider if I am complicit in perpetuating stereotypes and racism in America. It’s a must-read to become more aware of how America often looks down on Asians and what we can do to break that.

Absolutely loved this essay/memoir compilation, in particular the discussion of mental health and identity politics of Asian Americans. Beautifully written and intelligent, I would definitely recommend.

Usually with essay collections, you're trying to adjust to the inevitable inconsistency: Some of the stories are page-turners, while others are just begging to be skimmed altogether.

Cathy Park Hong's Minor Feelings is remarkable in that every essay is a must-read. In weaving together her background, historical context, and theoretical texts, Park Hong's work is thought-provoking and impressive. While I was moved by every piece in the entire book, I found her exploration of her time at Oberlin with her friends Erin and Helen and her essay on the rape and murder of novelist and artist Theresa Hak Kyung Cha particularly poignant and important.

You bet your ass I'm about to go read all of Cathy Park Hong's poetry collections. She's magic.

This book gives light to all the things I have felt as an Asian woman . Cathy Park Hong beautifully elucidates the nuances of this identity with well done research and lots of history for context. She uncovers hidden and ignored harsh truths with courage and wit. Her essays are original and brutally honest, and I recommend this book to anyone who has felt as thought they take up "apolagetic space".

Cathy Park Hong writes from the point of view of many Asian-Americans. We aren't white enough to be white. We aren't ethnic enough to be a consideration in many global conversations. We feel slighted, we feel overlooked. We are expected to be a certain way, all of the time. This minor feelings that Hong writes about are familiar and I see myself in many of these same issues. I look....like I have something, I'm not necessarily white, but I'm not necessarily Asian. I'm an other.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book.

<i> I was given a free digital copy in exchange for my honest opinion. And, after reading the digital copy, I immediately went out and purchased a physical copy. </i>

I know that this will be one of the most important books I read this year. While reading this, I was faced with experiences and emotions that I’ve long forgotten or suppressed. Honestly, I wasn’t ready to relive them. But, I had no choice. In being so honest about her experience, which in turn looked like mine, the author left me feeling so exposed and raw. And a part of me resented her for it.

Like the author, my parents immigrated to the US from Korea in search of a better life. And like her, I grew up in Koreatown in Los Angeles. But, unlike her, I remained there. My parents still live there to this day. And while it is “cool” to live there now after it’s been gentrified, it was a struggle growing up. My family was directly affected by the LA Riots, especially my mom. A woman who spoke better Spanish than English, she worked 6 days a week for 12 hours a day at a small shop inside a swap meet in South Central, LA. She was caught in a crossfire of a shooting and was also held up at gun point, all before her store was burned down during the riots.

This book brought back all the unpleasant memories of my childhood. I was forced to face head-on not only the shame I felt of being different, but the shame I had of my parents. I was embarrassed of where we lived and where my mom worked. When my friends’ parents would ask what she did for a living I would lie. When I would get dropped off by other parents, I would lie and say I lived in one of the nicer places and walk the rest of the way home, ashamed to show them the torn down apartment building I lived in.

I was also embarrassed at how weak my parents seemed. I’ve seen them get ridiculed due to their lack of English and I resented them for not learning fast enough. I thought they were weak because they could not stand up for themselves, which made me believe they could not stand up for me. They could not protect me. So, I learned not stand up for myself either. Because who would be there to help me?

As an adult, I realize how wrong I was at mistaking their language barrier as weakness. I did not realize the strength it takes to move to a country where you don’t know the language and do whatever it takes to provide for your family. Even if that means putting your head down and pretending you don’t see them slant their eyes and saying “ching chong” as you walk by.

To read this book was like looking into a mirror of my past, and instead of rose-colored glasses I am wearing a magnifying glass, forced to relive the details of my shame, resentment and guilt. This made me resent the author because I felt like she was telling my story without my permission. But, it’s not just my story. It is my father’s, my mother’s and my brother’s. It belongs to my friends and my community. And through the authors story, I found strength, validation and pride. And I thank her for it.

Some essays are stronger than others, but overall this is a very powerful book. I loved how the author handled so many delicate topics in a way that showed that she herself didn't have all the answers. It honestly made me think and reflect on so many everyday parts of life, and I found myself sending quotes to friends and at unrelated points in my day reflecting on some of the points the author made.

This is a must-read book of 2020! I'm so happy to have read it. I am so excited for the world to see it. There are not enough words to the book justice and I'd be robbing you of the experience.

Cathy Park Hong offers an introspection into her life. She leaves spaces for each reader to find themselves within the cracks, in this way ensuring that this isn’t the definitive Asian American book but it is a book that many nonwhite readers will find language for their experiences and feelings. The beauty of this book is that we are invited along her reckoning, so we are able to sift through thoughts with her. There are threads throughout the story that feel disjointed until she seamlessly pulls them together in a battle cry for definite change against white supremacy.

Poets writing prose is where my heart finds its happy place. These writers pick up the lyrical language of your soul, translate it into words, and set them free for each to land in the unexplored spaces of your psyche. I find myself a poor guide without the skills to even begin to tell you what this book contains. I just know it’s a must read.

Thanks to NetGalley and Random House for the free e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Minor Feelings by Cathy Park Hong is, as the cover states, an Asian-American reckoning. This essay collection talks about so much more than Cathy Park Hong's experiences in America, and it's phenomenal. Hong's experiences in this story are so powerful, and the other topics and people she discusses in this book are also impactful.

I am always a fan of reading memoirs, especially ones who have experienced so many events in a relatively short amount of time. Cathy Park Hong speaks from her heart and her mind simultaneously and puts forth an incredible retelling of both her life and her family. Her passion for her identity as an Asian American as well as for the historical impact of the United States in and around the Pacific region makes the reader pause and think about how many lives were changed and are still impacted by events and actions brushed over in the past within Western education.

Do you know that feeling of knowing you’re really going to love a book/movie/album before you pick it up? That’s how I felt with this book. It took all my will power to not devour it in one sitting.

Cathy Park Hong describes “minor feelings” as “...the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dyspeptic, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one’s perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed. Minor feelings arise, for instance, upon hearing a slight, knowing it’s racial, and being told, Oh that’s all in your head.” Hong writes that these feelings develop into a kind of self-hatred, as Asians have the unique position of being a minority, but lacking the kind of presence to be considered real minorities by, for example, white people. We are constantly “othered,” but because Asians are seen as white adjacent, we occupy this weird in-between space.

This book is a collection of essays that’s partially autobiographical, but also contains literary criticism and discusses historical events. I enjoyed how she referenced more “modern” media and authors in her essays, as I felt like it makes it more accessible: she mentions writers Jhumpa Lahiri and Prageeta Sharma, films like Moonrise Kingdom and Blade Runner 2049, and Richard Pryor’s stand-up. But she also talks about Japanese activist Yuri Kochiyama and the work of Korean artist and poet Theresa Hak Kyung Cha. My favorite part about this book was that Cathy Park Hong tried to discuss how Asians can be both victims and perpetuators of racism and colorism, while also discussing the history of Asian activism alongside other minority groups and how it is often overlooked.

I highly recommend this book. Does it discuss EVERY Asian American group and their struggles? No, and she fully acknowledged that. If anything, it makes me want to write about my own experiences and acknowledge the different connections I have to other artists and media in order to add to the greater conversation.

‘minor feelings: the radicalized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one’s perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed.’

this book blew me away with its perceptiveness and honesty. there was so much in here that i’ve felt my entire life but never had the language to express. but not only that, so much intention and research went into this book. i learned a lot about the history of being asian in america; it’s always a quiet punch to the gut learning about the things that were left out of our history books.

you can tell there were a lot of things Hong (intentionally) left out of this book, like her relationship with her mother, which she touched on briefly. i hope we’ll see more of this author in the non-fiction world if she chooses to share. her words have been so vital.

‘minor feelings are not generated from major change but from lack of change, in particular, structural racial and economic change.’

Okay let's see, I didn't get much into this book but I wanted to make an attempt based on the first couple chapters however I totally forget how the book even started because it just didn't spark my attention enough. I know it deals alot with mental health and counselors so probably when I actually get to finishing the entire book will I do a better and updated review.

Cathy Park Hong is a Korean-American poet who has written a poignant and complicated and messy and nuanced book of essays. I’ve been loving essays by poets lately, and this is no exception. You should read this book.

I was immediately struck by how honest Hong was about where she is coming from, how she is an unreliable narrator influenced by her own past insecurities, the stereotypes put on her, the intergenerational trauma of those who came before her. How she can’t always separate her views towards herself from her views towards Asian American culture, stereotypes, and people. Some of her observations feel inappropriate, uncomfortable.

As her essays continue, she peels back layers of societal expectations and slowly reveals why she hesitated to let her race influence her art, why her open dialogue may initially make readers, especially white readers, feel uncomfortable or nervous. Her wide breadth explores how Asian immigrants have been allowed to portray themselves in American books and movies: promoting the model minority trope, thereby aiming to further capitalism and keep black people down, placing Asian trauma in distant lands and centering white America as the savior.. This fosters the cognitive dissonance which she associates with minor feelings. She herself feels conflicted and uncomfortable about writing about Asian Americans in any overarching terms, explaining that essays allow for “exit routes” and let her “speak nearby” rather than over reach. But she also wants to use the first person plural, to directly confront it, to “dare” herself to contend with it. She is very self-aware and openly self-conscious, including conversations and reactions to the essays in what feels like real time. Hong wants to open up the floor, confess her experiences and thoughts and minor feelings. Far from any narrative claiming to present THE single story about immigrants, or Asians, or Koreans, this book feels like space that Hong has carved out specifically for herself.

The author is a poet and an academic. She admires Richard Pryor for his approach to afflicting the comfortable. These essays explore the author’s experiences as a member of a Korean family, once living in K-Town, then later in a prosperous area of Los Angeles. She describes the unfairness, the meanness, the confusion of being a member of a “model minority” but someone who is an other nevertheless.

My experience with this book was mixed. I am happy to have read through to the halfway point, but, having absorbed her arguments this far, I am ready to set this aside, so a DNF at 50%

A very important, blunt, and provocative read. The Asian American perspective on American culture is finally put in the spotlight in this thought provoking and eye opening book of essays. An important read.

Poet and essayist Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings is a brilliantly written memoir depicting her experiences navigating her racial identity as an Asian American (Korean American) with prescient insight into identity issues, POCs in publishing, positionality and cultural production, and so much more. To say that I was utterly gob smacked by her introspective, intentional meditations is a gross understatement. Although I am Latinx (Chicana) and not Asian American, there are many ways in which the book resonated. The book is largely chronologically organized in a collection of essays as Hong begins by bravely sharing her bout with depression and her challenges in trying to secure a Korean therapist.

In the opening chapter aptly titled “United,” the shape of myriad Asian American experiences are drawn. The false veneer of the model minority myth is ever-present and thus limits an actual understanding of diverse ethnic and class experiences, as Hong quips, “We are reputed to be so accomplished, and so law-abiding, and so we will disappear into this country’s amnesiac fog.” She then proceeds to paint the historic contours of many Asian ethnic groups in the United States to shatter the idea that Asian Americans desire to (and readily) assimilate into the mainstream. Invisibility is a significant manifestation of racism for Asian Americans.

The crux of the book, however, is the second chapter “Stand Up” where the concept of “minor feelings” is explained as the negative feelings that arise when the mainstream is unwilling to understand the experiences of POC and thus we end up resorting to such feelings as paranoia, melancholy, and shame. But Hong expresses the idea better than I could every paraphrase as “the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one’s perceptions of reality constantly questioned or dismissed.” This is the cause of Hong’s depressive condition conveyed at the book’s opening. This concept took me back nearly 20 years when I was teaching ethnic studies courses at one of the whitest and wealthiest California public universities. At that time, I introduced my students to Peggy McIntosh’s “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.” Let’s just say it was a “tough” gig that gave me some major minor feelings.

Finally, Hong discusses the state of POC in publishing. Scathingly, she illuminates the way in which publishing largely desires unidimensional stories lacking any semblance of the complexity of our actual lived experiences stating that “they want ethnicity to be siloed because it is easier to understand, easier to brand.” At this moment when as Latinx readers—and those who are writers—our stories are cheapened by facile, inaccurate renderings, Hong’s book is perfectly timed. The book is both lyrical and analytical, all at the same time. Thank you One World for choosing to center gripping books in the timbre of Minor Feelings and thank you Cathy Park Hong for writing this extraordinary book. This book is highly recommended for those interested in Asian American studies, memoir, and discussions of art and identity.

3.5 stars

Upon finishing Cathy Park Hong’s book of essays entitled Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning, I have to admit that I feel a bit conflicted. As an Asian American woman who is close in age to Hong and also grew up in the Los Angeles area like she did, there were many experiences she described in her essays that were absolutely familiar to me – for example, struggling with identity and belonging, being discriminated against due to my race, feeling like I oftentimes have to explain my heritage to people due to preconceived biases stemming from ignorance – the list goes on and on. Because of these shared experiences, I am able to understand wholeheartedly where Hong is coming from in her essays, even though culturally, we are from completely different backgrounds (Hong is Korean American, I’m Chinese American).

Overall, I found Hong’s essay collection to be an insightful read and very different from a lot of what is typically written about identity and race, especially from an Asian American perspective. The basic premise that binds all of Hong’s essays together is the concept of “minor feelings,” which Hong describes as “the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one’s perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed.” In essence, it is the recognition that the negative emotions many Asian Americans (and other minority groups) have to deal with on a daily basis – feelings of shame, self-doubt, paranoia, suspicion, melancholy, etc. – can be traced back to America’s history of imperialism and colonization of Asian nations, a history that resulted in the creation of an inherently racist capitalistic system that will constantly be in conflict with the reality of our racial identity. Amongst other things, Hong writes about the “weight of indebtedness” that is a constant presence in her life as well as the lives of most immigrants regardless of background, with the context of this “indebtedness” correlating to a “gratitude” of sorts for being able to make a life for ourselves in this country. All of Hong’s essays are infused with a raw honesty that is at the same time perceptive and intelligent, but also easy to grasp and understand.

With all that said however, going back to why I felt conflicted after reading this book -- while there is definitely much truth to what Hong wrote and several aspects of it did actually resonate with me, there was also a large portion that I felt strayed too far from my own personal reality. I’m not an activist and in fact, most of the time, I try to steer as clear away from politics as I possibly can. I also don’t spend every waking moment of my life thinking about race, identity, and/or how I fit into this world as an Asian American – not because I don’t care or that I’m okay with being complacent about the racial circumstances in our society or whatnot – but rather, the practical realities of my life don’t afford me the “luxury” of constantly dwelling on identity politics and race. Don’t get me wrong though – this doesn’t mean that if I see an injustice occurring, that I stand idly by instead of speaking up and fighting…if the circumstances warrant it, I will do what is necessary and also within my power to do. But by the same token, it would also be “unjust” in my opinion to judge those who choose not to fight, who choose not to rock the boat, who choose the path of least resistant because they are content with living an ordinary, peaceful existence, even if it means being largely invisible and/or complacent from an identity perspective. Forcing oneself to see everything through the lens of race and identity is exhausting and for me personally, that has never been how I want to go about my life. At the end of the day, the most important thing, for me at least, is respecting each other’s viewpoints and choices, especially if they are different from our own.

While my viewpoint may differ from Hong’s in many areas, I respect the fact that these essays reflect her personal thoughts and experiences and she doesn’t try to impose those onto us as readers. I also appreciate Hong’s unflinching honesty as well as her willingness to so candidly voice her feelings. Regardless, we definitely need more books like this one, where we get to hear different voices tell their stories – it takes a lot of courage to do so and that alone is already deserving of respect! Definitely a recommended read, though of course with the understanding that this is Hong’s personal perspective as an Asian American living in the United States and by no means does it represent all Asian Americans.

Received ARC from One World (Random House) via NetGalley.

I. Loved. This. Book. I’m sad I don’t have a physical copy to take pics of it everywhere with. It is written in essay format but with some overarching stories to tie it together. I really enjoyed it and know many people who will too.

As the mother of two half-Asian children I leaped at the chance to read this book (thank you NetGalley). The first essay was so phenomenal that I immediately told my daughter she needed to read it as well. I found myself doing what I don't normally do; highlighting passages to go back to and consider.
There is so much in this book about being seen, unseen, mistakenly seen and being seen as a type. It's a lot to absorb but I can't imagine a reader not getting something from this book regardless of the reader's own race. Highly recommended!