Part memoir, part investigation into the place of immigrants in the United States, and part a look at the inaccuracy of considering all Asian Americans to be the same, this book has a lot to accomplish in its limited pages. Two things continually came to mind while reading this book. One I already had encountered previously. Most Americans view racism as a binary. You are the white majority or you are the Black minority. Many do not know how to deal with anyone that isn't on this binary. Kang writes "there is no meaningful, political way to deal with the pain and disappointment of being an Asian American, no answer for the exclusion you feel when everyone around you talks about racism and white supremacy and you know - at some visceral level - that you're not allowed to speak up." Thus, these members of our society are lost and alone in their attempts to work within a system that seems to discount their concerns. The second point that I felt was made very well was that any blanket statement about Asian Americans would result in a generic problematic stereotyping of those included. There are a multitude of countries and cultures that have been lumped together, and similar to the African tribes that kidnapped their enemies to sell to slave ships, these countries and cultures are not necessarily friends. I feel like there was a lot of room for more dialogue in the book. But I also felt like at points the writing became a bit too academic for the average reader. Either way, this book provides the reader a solid insight into an issue that seems to continually be missed when our country looks at itself and its racial practices.

I didn’t read too much of Kang’s work until his NYT magazine piece on Steven Yeun from earlier this year. His writing is sharp and thought-provoking, and in many ways, makes you feel a bit uncomfortable.

The Loneliest Americans examines the historical and political identity of being Asian American. What does this actually mean especially in a Black and white country? The book uses the Hart-Celler Act of 1965 as a central way to explore the history of recent Asian immigration to the US. There’s a part where he addresses the lack of shared history among Asian Americans and how there really isn’t that much that is unifying us other than possibly how we look and how we were treated. Kang challenges a lot of worn-out narratives on this and it might upset you, even when it’s informative.

His honesty isn’t there to serve you or make you feel good. Instead, it’ll disrupt the comforts and tropes we hold on to.

And I think this is what a book should do - interrogate what we believe, challenge us to question what we determine is true and maybe reframe the way we see the world in order to move forward.

TL;DR

Jay Caspian Kang’s The Loneliest Americans is a lovely, complicated, nuanced contemplation of the place of Asian immigrants and their descendants in the U.S. This book had me reflecting a lot on current current trends in politics. Highly, highly recommended.

Disclaimer: The publisher provided a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Any and all opinions that follow are mine alone.

Review: The Loneliest Americans by Jay Caspian Kang

Do you ever have moments where you read something in a book, and it brings something so obvious to your attention that you sort of feel dumb afterwards for never having noticed it before? Well, that happened with me while reading The Loneliest Americans by Jay Caspian Kang. He talked about identity politics in the U.S. as a racial binary. I had never encountered this phrase before, but it was so perfect, I had to put the book down to ponder it. It perfectly describes something I had noticed but never put into words. This might be understandable as I’m a straight, white, cis-male from the Midwest. I’m not exactly on the cutting edge of racial political scholarship or activism, but I do try to educate myself so as to only be woefully behind rather than dreadfully out of date. And I do have to admit that when it comes to identity politics, I have done no work when it comes to Asian identity. That is part of the reason that I picked up the The Loneliest Americans; I need to do work in that area. Luckily, Jay Caspian Kang wrote an engaging, detailed book that complicates what little I do know and raises frustrating and fascinating questions. I found myself highlighting much of the book and searching out stories that Kang discusses. The Loneliest Americans is a lovely balance of memoir and critique. I can’t tell you whether Kang is pro- or anti-identity politics after finishing the book. In fact, I think it’s the wrong question to ask. I think, Kang asks an inherently human question. Where do I fit into society? But for Kang and many like him, that question is complicated by a society where racism is structural and rampant while at the same time affecting him in different ways than what we traditionally think of as racist. There’s so much I want to say about this book, but it’d be better if you just read it.

The Loneliest Americans meditates upon the position of Asian Americans in the U.S. racial binary. Are they people of color? Are they white? Kang ponders these questions throughout the book in nuanced and deep ways. He uses the story of his family’s journey from the Korean War to today as way to interrogate these questions. But this isn’t just a memoir. The Loneliest American critiques U.S. culture, and no culture avoids the lens here. Kang concerns himself with the place of Asians in the U.S. What is Asian American culture? Is there even such a thing?

The Loneliest Americans is a short, quick read, but this doesn’t mean it lacks depth. There is a lot of information packed into this slim volume. Kang focuses on the Hart-Celler Act, or the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. This abolished the National Origins Formula, which discriminated against certain immigrants based on, you guessed it, national origin. As you may have guessed from its inclusion in this book, the Hart-Celler Act had a large effect on immigration from the Eastern Hemisphere. Kang’s family came from Korea, and his father’s story is that of the American dream. He works his way up owning his own company and then being a CEO for a Korean company. But, of course, the story is more complicated than that. We learn that his father gave it up to become a farmer in the Pacific Northwest. Kang using his family’s story to detail the effects of Hart-Celler was really well done. Too often, today, immigration is short hand for Mexicans or Latinos at the southern border, and again this is a way of erasing other populations. The Hart-Celler act removed discriminatory practices that some today would like to put back in place.

In addition to his own story, Kang looks at what it means to be Asian American in the U.S. It’s complicated. Unfortunately the current racial politics of the U.S. is best described as a binary, whites versus people of color (PoC). Except that PoC often simply means black. The black experience in the U.S. is most prominent amongst PoC, but racism targets them all equally. And what’s more, Asian is incredibly reductive as it makes such a large part of the world filled with numerous cultures and languages into a singular identity. Kang interrogates the place of Asian America in that binary, and there are no easy answers. I’m not sure there are answers at all. Kang, however, takes the reader through those thorny questions with as much objectivity as possible. Even when he’s discussing Asian Men’s Rights Groups on Reddit, he’s clear about his feelings toward these ideologies while presenting the people involved as three dimensional beings, not caricatures. To me, this made the people involved even sadder than before because they are men trying to find their way in this world being led astray in the name of politics and heritage. This section was super uncomfortable for me, which means I liked it the most. There’s good writing, good details about the men and their ideology. Kang also describes how an acquaintance of his went down that particular path. It’s excellent journalism and a captivating read.

U.S. Racial Binary

The Loneliest Americans opened up my personal view of identity politics in the U.S. Of course, racism against Asians is something that is pervasive in the U.S. Anyone paying attention to how the American political right has used that racism to distract from their abdication of leadership during the pandemic knows this. At the same time, though, the U.S. has always had racist views of the Asian community. From internment camps to fears of Japanese business takeovers in the 90s to fears of China calling American debt due, the U.S. only seems to pay attention to Asians as a source of fear. Or in the case of Asian women with a fetishization. Despite the fact that Asians have fit into nearly all communities across the U.S., despite the rise in popularity of K-Pop and Korean dramas, despite the proliferation (and watering down) of Asian cultures through martial arts and food, the U.S. – right, left, and center – still do not know what to do with Asians. Part of this reason is because Americans are lazy, and we like to group things together. So, we group people from the Eastern Hemisphere who look similar under one banner. This removes an incredible amount of diversity. We are asking people from Korea to Japan to China to Thailand to the Philippines to Fiji to Malaysia to identify with each other simply because it fits our categories. Immigrants from these countries don’t share languages or cultures; they might not even be of the same class. Someone from Japan might come here with enough money to or maybe even get a loan to start a small business. While a different immigrant from Vietnam might come here to get a job in a screen printing shop. Yet, we expect these two people to fit equally into our nice little category.

In addition, Kang really opened my eyes to the racial binary under which our country operates. For the people between the poles of white or black, they are compared to either side while being their own identity. For example, Latinos in Texas are lumped in with Latinos in southern Florida despite having their own identities. What effect does this have on people? Kang gives numerous examples, and they are heartbreaking.

Class versus Identity?

If you’ve read other of my reviews, you might see that I believe Leftists focus entirely too much on class. The Loneliest Americans has shown me that maybe I’ve discounted it a bit too much. Kang discusses the efforts of upwardly mobile Asian Americans. Again, does a second generation graduate of Harvard really have the same identity as an immigrant in a factory? But no one can discount that both might be targeted because of their race. And while Asian Americans are often seen as professional and industrious, how often do they break through to the upper echelons of businesses or even government? Does their race limit their upward mobility? Question like these complicate discussion of identity and racial politics. They are real and important questions deserving of consideration but often get hidden by the more horrific and visceral problems of racial politics. But just because one person is middle-class or even wealthy, the racism against them is no less wrong. Is it just as wrong, though, to expect someone who is middle class to have the same problems of someone who is poor simply because of their Asian heritage? Is it okay to ignore the structural racism targeted at the middle class and upwardly mobile in order to better the poorer Asians? These are questions that complicate any analysis of political identity.

Just Identity

One of the other things that Kang does so well is he made me wonder if maybe there are just basic questions of identity that get swept up into questions of racial identity. At some point, we all have identity questions, right? Am I an engineer, a writer, what makes me, me? These are questions we all ask ourselves. One of the privileges I have is that I don’t have to consider how my race will affect the formation of that identity. But when does the focus on race cloud other questions? Kang uses an example of a friend trying and failing to get a show about his experiences made in Hollywood. Now, we know Hollywood has a representation problem. People of color are starting to make headway in the industry, but the majority of lead roles still go to white actors. Again, it’s getting better, but there’s also a long way to go. With that said, how do we know if the show was rejected because it was considered “too Asian” or was it simply not good? Obviously we can’t know this, but Kang’s friend leans towards the “too Asian” reason. Knowing that Fresh Off the Boat was toned down for U.S. audiences, it’s not a stretch to believe a show could get passed on because of the issues of race and culture raised in it. But it’s also not a stretch to believe that the show wasn’t good enough for TV. The fact that PoC have to reflect on this possibility adds a layer of effort on their creative work, which is hard enough on its own. How do PoC navigate those questions? It has to be exhausting.

Conclusion

Jay Caspian Kang’s The Loneliest Americans is an excellent rumination on the current state of racial politics with regard to Asian Americans. If you read this book, I recommend having a highlighter or pen in hand. I marked passages up and down my copy of the eBook. There’s good writing that provokes deeper reflection. Kang’s work doesn’t present us with easy answers, and The Loneliest Americans presents thorny issues for all parties engaged in identity politics to consider. The Loneliest Americans is worth the read to get a new perspective on what it means to be an American.

Thank you to NetGalley and Crown for the eARC of this pointed and important attempt to broaden and better speak about the diversity that makes up America, in this case, pleading for nuance and understanding when it comes to "Asian-Americans."

Jay Caspian Kang's grandparents escaped from northern Korea just before the Korean war broke out, and had no idea that they would never see their friends and family again when the armistice was signed in 1953. His family eventually made their way to America thanks to the opening up of immigration laws in the 1960s.

Dang finds that the American racial binary of daily life and the conversation around it leaves Asians, and many other immigrant groups, on the sidelines, although perhaps often with a better-funded leg-up on the journey toward "whiteness" or white acceptance.

The Loneliest Americans is a vital addition to our current, fraught, moment, and our ongoing American conversation about democracy, and who we actually are as a nation. And who we want to be.

The only knock I have on it is that it seems both written and structured as a long magazine article, rather than a weighty addition to this conversation.

This is a fascinating look at the life of Asian Americans .The author the child of North Korean parents who emigrated to the US He shares his personal experience of life in America he shares his experience his parents his friends.It’s really interesting to see America through his perspective .and culture.A book Ibwill be recommending.#netgalley #crownbooks

At turns nuanced and blunt, Kang has taken his personal experiences as the child of North Korean immigrants o the US and turned his eye on how Asian Americans are viewed and view themselves. He's thoughtful, to be sure, and even more important, thought provoking. Kang's central thesis- that the Asians who live in the US have disappeared into the background because they are not the coalesced group they are perceived by others- is intriguing. Thanks to netgalley for the ARC. A good read that offers a new perspective.

This is the chronicle of one man’s journey as an Asian American to find who is he in that collective cultural identify which includes all peoples Mongoloid. He observes that “there’s not even a shared experience of treatment in America to point to. The classification has been strained by its exclusions.” I’ve questioned the validity of the term Asian America since Asian groups have been targeted in different ways and different places, but perhaps the attacks on Asians after Trump’s mislabel of Covid-19 as the “China flu” will serve as a unifier.

Kang questions who he is as a Korean in America and what that means for his future. He acknowledges that there is a bamboo ceiling is between him and career positions as corporate CEOs. His recourse is to study hard to enter into the white collar realm. We learn of the schools that spring up to coach children in the sciences. One of the education coaches justifies his school, “If he didn’t go to MIT, what opportunities would he have? How else could he show his value in America?”

At times his frustration boils over into anger at his limitations. He is nakedly honest in his journey to grow up and find his place as an Asian in America. As a white Anglo-Saxon female I’ve taken my opportunities for granted. Not so for many Americans who click a different census box than mine. He is so much more self-aware than I ever was and concludes “like most young, confused, but ultimately dissatisfied people, I put way too much stock in the idea of authenticity.” This book was a learning experience for me.

Using his own family and his childhood as a backdrop for this book, Jay Caspian Kang writes about identity of Asians in America. He includes historical facts as well as his own feelings and experiences as an Asian man to discuss what it means to be Asian American. There is no clear-cut answer to this and Kang doesn't pretend like he will provide one. He does look to other Asians, some just like him who had the same experiences as the author, but also some who went down the wrong path and are filled with anger and possibly violence. Kang also breaks down the Model Minority myth that has plagued the Asian community for decades and does to his day. The idea that Asians always do well has made many of them feel like failures if they don't, putting an incredible amount of pressure on them to be in fields deemed worthy and lucrative. This myth ignores the fact that Asians are the poorest people in New York City, many living well below the poverty line in a city where the rents have climbed as high as $4,500 for a studio. We only see the ones who've made it, wearing designer clothes and living in posh homes, ignoring those who are literally starving.

I definitely recommend this book to my readers.

I loved the perspective of this book. To have an author that grew up in the US with Korean parents, brought the reality of this book to light. The author talks about labeling “Asian American” and how that’s term really takes away the shared history from the person. The author tells stories of his own life, his parents, and other people he has come to know in his life. I thought this book was very insightful and a joy to read. Thank you NetGalley for allowing me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

This was really interesting. The author, having grown up in the US with Korean parents, has an inside perspective on this topic. Basically his argument, or thesis, is that labelling people as Asian American implies a shared history which does not exist. He also gives perspective on the black/white binary that exists in the culture of the US and what it's like to be outside of that. He tells stories from his own life, his parents' lives, and also other people that he has come into contact with as a journalist. I thought his realization that he isn't really accepted in the US but also wouldn't be in Korea was particularly insightful.

It seems like I may have given away most of his talking points, but I assure you that there is a lot more to this.

A very smart book written with Jay Caspian Kang's requisite candor and wit. The Loneliest Americans is heavy on the history of the label "Asian-American"'s emergence as a political entity (and interrogating the usefulness of that label); it is quite light on the memoir. It's very much meant to function as a general-interest history text, with some personal anecdotes thrown in. There is a fair amount of research in the text, but (partly as a function of being general interest), there were times I wished for more in-depth knowledge, for more illuminating tidbits found from really digging into the archives as opposed to an interesting take on what could be found in a textbook. Nevertheless, Kang's analytic skills are formidable. In one of the most illuminating sections, he considers the story of his upbringing and how it could be manipulated to either be an immigrant "rags to riches" story or illustrate an intellectual-class upbringing. Kang is extremely smart, if also somewhat self-hating, and this book is a really incisive read, though with its flaws.

An informative blend of personal history, reportage, and history, this book untangles the stereotypes and generalizations surrounding the nebulous concept of "Asian-Americans". He explains how U.S. immigration laws affected who could come in which numbers of what socioeconomic level from which countries. He details how each generation of Asian immigrants changed in its background and aspirations, and how trying to impose a common identify - Asian-American - is inadequate.

The only real commonality he finds is that Asians can't quite fit into the country's binary racial roles, white or black, being neither at some times and one or the other in other circumstances. He anchors this uncertainty in his own story as well as in other individuals' lives. The result is history made concrete in a very readable way.

This memoir started off really strong and then became a bit scattered and was hard to keep track of who he was talking about/referring too. I think with some more editing it could have been a stronger book.

Read if you: Want a revealing and intimate look at Asian-American life in the US through the author's experiences.



Librarians/booksellers: Definitely purchase for your Asian-American nonfiction collection.

Many thanks to Crown Publishing and NetGalley for a digital review copy in exchange for an honest review.