Putsata Reang's memoir, Ma and Me, was born out of a transitional journey from journalist to memoirist. At the behest of her partner and sister, she submitted an essay to the New York Times, which was published in 2016. This essay delved into her complex relationship with her mother and her struggles with survivor's guilt, having almost died in her mother's arms while fleeing Cambodia in 1975. Later on, the essay is extended into this memoir.

The memoir begins with a Khmer folk tale about the crocodile and the tiger—Go in the water, there’s the crocodile; come up on land, there’s the tiger. This tale symbolises the difficult choices her parents were forced to make in their lives. Fleeing the prospect of the Cambodian genocide following the Khmer Rouge’s entry into Phnom Penh, the family of eight eventually settled in rural Corvallis, Oregon, where her mother worked as a janitor and served meals to college students, while her father washed dishes and suffered a nervous breakdown. The strain led her mother to run away several times, sometimes with her children and sometimes alone, only to return because, as she believed "a Khmer wife stays".

As the youngest and the child who nearly died on the boat escaping Phnom Penh, she felt closely tied to her mother and was raised under the principle of "us before I," where family identity took precedence over individuality. She felt indebted to her mother for saving her life and attempted to be the ideal gohn Khmer—Cambodian daughter, a goal she could never fully attain because she was gay. Her desire to avoid tarnishing the image of a perfect Khmer family led her to conceal her true self for years. She struggled with the conflict brewing both within herself and with her mother, resulting in her running away from home as a teenager and attempting suicide in college. As an adult, she continued to flee, working as a journalist in Cambodia, Afghanistan and Thailand. Escape became her coping mechanism.

In 2010, when her father suffered a severe heart attack, she returned to the U.S. from Phnom Penh. This later prompted her mother to finally share the details of her past with her. These conversations, recorded and included in the memoir in italicised font, offer profound insights. She learned that her mother had tried to escape to her brother's house near the Vietnam border, close to where the Khmer Rouge was based at that time, after discovering her father's plan to arrange her marriage. The American B-52 bombings disrupted her refuge, forcing her to abandon her dreams of becoming a businesswoman and traveling the world, ultimately returning home to become a Khmer bride. Her mother considered her wedding day in 1967, the day she relinquished her freedom, as the saddest day of her life, knowing that marriage meant losing her independence forever. Putsata, as the dutiful daughter whose identity is intertwined with her mother's, recognises that she returned to Cambodia as an adult to lead the life her mother might have had if she hadn't been married off. Her struggles, deeply rooted in the past through intergenerational trauma and filial duty, are laid bare in between the chapters of this memoir.

Nevertheless, Putsata breaks free from her family history and shapes her own identity, confronting the difficulties of being gay and her survivor’s guilt. Her joy is captured in the memoir, in falling in love with her future wife, April, and ultimately deciding to return to the U.S. to make her future home. She also recalls that home isn't just a physical manifestation; it encompasses emotional connections and the love we nurture. Ultimately, Putsata’s memoir invites us to recognise that we are more than the sum of our past traumas, and that each of us has our own unique stories and experiences to share with others.

"Ma and Me" by Putsita Reang is a deeply personal memoir that offers an intimate glimpse into the author's life and the bond she shares with her mother. While the book has its merits, there are a few aspects that prevent it from reaching its full potential.

The strongest aspect of "Ma and Me" is undoubtedly the emotional depth and authenticity that Reang brings to her storytelling. The love and admiration she has for her mother shine through the pages, and readers can feel the profound impact her mother had on her life. The exploration of their relationship is touching and relatable, and it is evident that the author poured her heart and soul into capturing their journey.

Additionally, the memoir provides valuable insights into the cultural background and experiences of the author. Reang effectively incorporates elements of her heritage, offering readers a window into a different world and shedding light on the struggles and triumphs faced by her family. This cultural exploration adds a layer of richness to the narrative and broadens the reader's understanding.

However, "Ma and Me" falls short in terms of structure and pacing. The book lacks a cohesive narrative arc, often jumping between different time periods and events without a clear sense of progression. This disjointedness hampers the flow of the memoir and makes it difficult to fully engage with the story. A more organized and structured approach would have enhanced the reading experience.

Furthermore, while the emotional aspects of the book are heartfelt, the writing style could benefit from refinement. At times, the prose feels repetitive and overly sentimental, which can detract from the impact of certain passages. A more nuanced and polished writing style would have elevated the memoir and made it even more resonant.

In terms of presentation, the book could have benefited from better editing and proofreading. There are noticeable factual and grammatical errors throughout, which can be distracting for readers. A thorough editing process would have helped in creating a more polished final product.

Despite its flaws, "Ma and Me" remains a touching memoir that explores the profound bond between a mother and daughter, as well as the significance of cultural heritage. Putsita Reang's heartfelt storytelling and insightful reflections make this memoir a worthwhile read for those interested in personal narratives and family relationships. With some improvements in terms of structure, pacing, and writing style, this memoir could have achieved an even higher rating

I really tried to finish this one. I saw so much hype about it and really wanted to like it. Unfortunately, it just never got off the ground. 😥

Unfortunately I DNF'd this book. I felt like it had a lot of potential but I just couldn't get into it, possibly because it was written in a slightly detached way and also the book jumped between the present and the author's mom's past but it made it feel more detached.

One of the very few memoirs I’ve read that hits so close to home. We see a fair amount of stories on the Khmer Rouge and escaping the war and settling in America/Australia but rarely any books about what it’s actually like the grow up as a first or second generation child whose parents fled the genocide in Cambodia.

Putsata was just a baby barely breathing when her parents fled Cambodia. Her father who worked in the military heard an announcement that soldiers were approaching and to leave the vicinity as soon as possible before the radio went dead. Carrying whatever they could on their backs — food, clothing and the younger children they fled the city. The memoir recalls her parent’s life in Cambodia and how they came to be together and the difficulties they overcame to live a fairly fulfilling and happy life. They had money, food on the table, and were able to send their kids to school. They were quite well off.

They had to leave everything behind and start over in a country where they couldn’t even speak the language. I won’t go into too much details of what that entails. But basically this story is about Putsata’s relationship with her mother. She wanted to be her mother’s saviour as she was to her when she was a baby.

There are so many ups and down as all mother-daughter relationship goes. Arguments about how to dress, what to study, who to marry and when to have children — you know all the usual things that only girls have to worry about. But in this case Putsata is gay and that’s not something you talk about in Khmer culture. So when she confronts her mother, a riff opens between them.

I highly recommend everyone to read this book as a glimpse into a culture that’s not often spoken about. A little insight into the ‘tradition’ way of life that Khmer people grew up with and how living in a western country challenges those ideas. What it’s like to grow up with parents who have lived and survived a genocide, the unspoken trauma of war and death and survivors guilt, to a whole generation of children who are torn between two cultures.

I also encourage you to read with an open-mind as my parents and those before them grew up in an entirely different generation with traditions that were passed down to them for centuries.

4.5

Ma and Me is a beautifully written memoir packed with emotion. Putsata Reang tells a story of her mother, of herself, and of their complicated relationship. Putsata was barely a year old and barely alive when her family reached America, running from war-torn Cambodia. As her family struggles in a new country, away from their home, Put feels she owes her mother her life, as her mother fought to keep her alive on that trip to America, even when it seemed futile. She works very hard to be the perfect Khmer daughter, even as she is stuck between two cultures - her homeland and the country she grew up in, stuck between the want to do what her mom wants and what she wants. The strain between her mother and her grows during the years to come, as Put is not getting married and she doesn't stay in one place, but their relationship finally goes overboard when she tells her mother she is marrying a woman.

There is so much I could say about this book, but I believe I would not do it justice. The story of Putsata's family coming to America and building a life there is equally fascinating as is sad. The story is told with a lot of compassion for everyone involved, there is so much understanding the author expresses. There is so much nuance and consideration in every aspect of the story, from how she grew to realize she was different than everyone around her (first as an immigrant, later when she thinks about her sexuality), to her family's struggle with money (how they're both poor and have enough to send to relatives in need). As well as when she visits Cambodia with her mother, the cultural shock she experiences, and the sadness she sees in her mother. I also really enjoyed reading about her life as a journalist later on, when she moves to Cambodia, Afghanistan, Tailand - I found it all very interesting.

As the title says, the focal point of the book is Putsata's relationship with her mother. How she desperately wants to make her mom proud, to make herself worthy but how she struggles to do so, as just being herself doesn't seem to be enough. How her mother's upbringing and later her clinging to her culture (so she wouldn't lose it in America) brought many fights between them. Her mother grew up in an environment where women didn't get to choose, and she simultaneously fights for Put to stay a part of that culture but also for her right to choose. It was truly fascinating to read about their relationship. Her mother is proud of her achievements, but she is feeling like she failed as a parent because her kid is gay. There is a lot of acceptance, understanding, and forgiveness on Reang's part for her mother. She gives her mother the space to feel what she feels, and understand her to a degree, while also staying true to who she is. I like that Putsata's siblings and cousins are a great support to her later on when her parents refuse to come to her wedding. I really loved the family element here.

By the end of this book, on that last chapter especially, I was crying so much that I seemed more a fountain than a person. Putsata saying that if her parents don't show up this time, for an important thing (I'm trying to keep it spoiler free, please indulge me), that is finally something she wouldn't forgive them was the moment I started crying. That moment of acceptance that even as you tried to make peace and bridge the gap, it might not be enough, was really what got me. The book ends on a hopeful note, with that last line of Put finally hearing the words she always wanted to hear from her mother.

I would highly recommend this book if raw, emotional memoirs with beautiful writing are something that seems interesting to you. This was truly an interesting, thoughtful exploration of identity, culture, sexuality, expectations, and family. I will definitely be thinking about it for a long time!

Thank you to Netgalley for providing me with a copy in exchange for an honest review!

This is a beautiful, poignant book about a messy mother-daughter relationship, generational trauma, diaspora, immigration, language, queerness, and so much more. Reang writes with so much nuance and compassion about her story and her mother's story, finding the places they intersect, the places they contradiction, the places they mingle. Gorgeous writing.

This story hit me with an unexpected force.

I knew it was a memoir and I knew it was related to LGBTQ themes. And that's about it. It's a story about war, families, mother-daughter relationships, expectations, being true to yourself, pain, love. I got to know more about Cambodia, its history and culture that I shamefully knew nothing about. And specially what being queer amidst it all means, because even living in the USA the Cambodian culture still affected her through her mother.

It took me a few days to read this book, it hurt me while reading and it also healed me. It was powerful.

'Ma and Me' is a beautiful memoir. Seeing everything Putsata went through, starting when she almost died while barely a year old and fleeing Cambodia in the arms of her mother, I think everyone would have understood if de circumstances had hardened her. But on the contrary, her story is full of compassion and love, while also pointing out how in hindsight she learned about how things and situations and people (those unintentionally and out of goodwill) have hurt her. How people unintentionaly put her onto her own path again too. Ultimately this memoir is all about how Put and her mother (and the rest of her family) form their own connections in life in their own way.

This memoir is a tale of growing up between two cultures. It is a story about survivor’s guilt and intergenerational trauma but, above all, it is about the relationship between a mother and her daughter that does not shy away from showing the complex reality that this bond brings with it.

It is set in Cambodia, before the war that took the lives of so many and changed the lives of countless others forever, and spans the time up until today, starting out with the mother’s story and telling the life of the daughter before that background.

Putsata Reang’s style accomplishes to be both detailed, almost newspaper-article-like at times, which is no surprise considering her background in journalism, and at the same time tells a story spanning decades by picking only the most important moments and still creating a flowing and seamless storyline.

The way that the mother-daughter relationship is portrayed here, completely devoid of the often heavy romanticization and almost brutally honest at times, gives the reader a true glimpse into Put’s world, her struggles and her feelings in a way that I have seldom experienced.

An absolute must-read memoir. Especially for all my world readers out there!

One of the most compelling memoirs I've read in a while. Reang is an international journalist, a Khmer daughter, and a gay woman. But how do you live your life when your life is your debt?

I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy this initially as I felt the first few chapters jumped around between different places and people and eras before I'd had a chance to familiarise myself with them, so I kept having to stop and figure out whether I was reading about Ma or Ma's mother. But once I'd got past those first chapters I couldn't put this beautiful memoir down.
I knew the bare bones of Cambodian history and nothing about Cambodian Khmer culture. This was all explained so well that I felt immersed in Put's story and family. The relationship between Put and Ma was one grounded in Ma's history. Female Khmer children were expected to marry and bring a dowry to her parents, and then be subservient and devoted to her husband and family. Added to this expectation of Put was the fact that her mother had fought so hard to keep her alive and Ma expected unequivocal loyalty in return. Put's refusal to settle down and marry young, followed by her insistence on being independant and successful in her career was difficult for Ma to understand, let alone accept. Put's revelation that she was gay drove a further huge wedge in their previously close bond.
Put is honest about her feelings of guilt and failure to be the daughter her mother expected her to be. Ma is a force to be reckoned with and Put's decision to at last forge her own way in life was extremely brave, knowing that the relationship with Ma might never be healed.
This is a beautiful account of what it means to be Cambodian in America, to be viewed as a foreign Cambodian in Cambodia, and what it means to not follow the traditional paths set out in Khmer culture. I loved the contrast in demeanours in the wedding photos at the back. I stayed up very late to finish this memoir because I couldn't put it down.

*Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux (FSG) via NetGalley for the ARC*

As a first generation Cambodian American I was beyond excited to read this book. I knew it was going to be insightful and poignant as I’ve previously read the author’s NYT article.

As the title suggests, Ma and Me, centers on Reang and her mother’s relationship. First, as a baby fleeing from Cambodia, then as an adolescent growing up and toiling away on American soil, and finally as an adult, seeking out her own journey, traveling between past and present, country to country. Their lives are stubbornly intertwined, following analogous paths until Reang bravely comes out as gay to her culturally traditional mother and a rift tears their core foundation apart.

Full of folklore and myths, as well as stories of her mom’s life as a youth in pre-war Cambodia, Reang’s memoir is beautifully brutal. The imagery she portrays is crisp and vivid. The horrors she recounts are gut-wrenching. Her mom’s stories presses a tender bruise that I’m sure all Cambodians carry. For any one who’s been affected by a war torn country, who might still live in a battlefield within the four walls of their home. Those who want to know their ancestors’ history, about the refugee experience, who’ve been denied access to those haunting memories that their elders deliberately placed on a high dusty shelf…you’ll find them here. Every chapter packs a punch. There’s hardly any levity until Reang finally finds peace within herself, having struggled with ptsd, conflicting racial/cultural/sexual identities, and familial piety.

It truly was a devastating read, even more so as a fellow Cambodian, when you think about what unspeakable atrocities your own family went through. But I’m grateful to have read this and even more grateful for the representation. I think Reang’s memoir would be the perfect candidate for reading in schools that now require Asian American history curriculum or for anyone who wants to have a better understanding of Cambodian culture. Wishing Reang all the success as a writer/author and hopefully a positive update/sequel for her ma and her. 5/5 solid stars.

Thank you to the author, Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley, for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

This is a beautifully written memoir from a Cambodian woman whose family fled the country when she was one year old. As the youngest child, she only survived due to the determination of her mother, and this in turn causes her to feel indebted toward her mother - quite apart from the cultural expectations of both parents as to what a "good" Khmer daughter should be. They settle in a part of the US where she and her family are the only non-Caucasians in the larger community, and it's clear that adjusting was difficult for both parents and children. The author returns to Cambodia for the first time as a teenager, and is confronted with the scale of the horrors her family escaped from, and the sense of obligation that her parents feel toward those that they left behind. The author studies and becomes a journalist, and accepts postings in Cambodia, as well as other geopolitical hotspots - and then comes to terms with her sexuality, and comes out to her mother as gay.

Writing this review, it feels impossible that all these various facets could be woven into one book - but this book works wonderfully. Issues of identity, cultural obligations and expectations at odds with the real life situation, hope and shame, sexuality, reconciliation - and the history of Cambodia, and the trauma that the Khmer Rouge wrought - are woven together into a compelling life story.

This is beautifully written memoir about a Cambodian family, trauma, identity, and reconciliation. Reang defied expectations when she survived her family's exodus from Cambodia and again after many years of conformity, she came out. She skillfully weaves in the history of Cambodia but more importantly the impact of the Khmer Rouge on the Cambodia people. Her father's trouble adjusting to life in the US and their difficult early years here is all wrapped in her relationship with her mother. Her mother expects so much and she never lets up, despite Reang's achievements. Hardest is her mother's unwillingness to accept her for herself. It's important to note that Reang doesn't come off as bitter. She's questioning but she's not bitter. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC. It's a fascinating read.

Absolutely fantastic book. I would highly recommend this to anyone wanting a deeper understanding of Asian immigrants, Asian American life, and impact of war on other countries.

In this autobiographical book, Putsata Reang brings us in the intimate journey of her family fleeing Cambodian war and starting anew in the USA, and her struggles as a child of an immigrant family and as a member of the LGBTQ community.

There is a lot to unpack, and various interesting themes. Besides the historical facts about Cambodian war, Putstata Reang paints a notable picture of the “complex” children of immigrants often face, that is to say the feeling of owning perfection to their parents to repay their sacrifice they made in the quest of a better for their children. Additionally, the author details her difficulty in coming out to her parents, and how this was in complete opposition to her felt obligation of being the perfect child.

While the books is well written, it still misses something. First of all, the author being a journalist, the book takes a “journalistic” tone: personally I could not stop thinking about how it would have made such a good fiction novel. Yet, this is very subjective, and does not take away anything from the story.

Secondly, the story is very much centered on the author’s mother, and while she relates some of her father’s the wrongdoings (violence and abuse), it does not analyze this relation at all: I can’t say whether it was voluntary, if it shows that the author still has to unpack all of her traumas and experiences, or if she did but not felt ready to expose it - while it is impossible for us to say, it does take away something from it.

Finally, something that my cisgender eye did not catch it at first, but that a fellow reader pointed out is how the author replicates some quite problematic patriarchal structures in her relationship, which is also a pity: once again, this is HER story, how SHE acted being who she is and having grown up in the society she has. So, no blame nor hate on her, just something to take into account

If your parents fled a war, saving your life, but leaving all their family behind, do you owe them something? What if the thing that they really want from you, a marriage to a Khmer man is the only thing you cannot give them. How do you come out to a mother who has such expectations of you? These are the sorts of questions Putsata Reang reckons with in this incredible memoir about family, belonging and not-belonging.

When Reang’s family fled the Khmer Rouge, she was just a tiny baby, and nobody thought she would survive since she was so malnourished. As the baby of the family, she was very close to her mother, and felt extreme pressure to be everything she wanted - I mean, she did save her life. What follows is an evitable struggle between doing what is expected of her, and following her heart.

I’m not the child of refugees or immigrants, so I’ve never experienced this sort of situation, but I have an inkling that many LGBTQIA+ children to immigrant parents will see certain aspects of their own story reflected in Reang’s; the pressure to make your family proud while also forging your own path, a path that they might not necessarily agree with.

I have one issue with the book which I only realised after chatting with @lepass . Reang’s father is extremely abusive, not only to their mother, but also to other children such as their cousin, yet he barely gets a mention. I do feel like mother’s often take the brunt of their children’s anger, yet objectively, her father was much worse.

Definitely a memoir worth reading. Though, as I previously mentioned in my stories, I was pretty grossed out about the author asking her fiancée’s father for his blessing to marry her. Down with patriarchal gender norms please and thanks.

I read the first 3/4 of this book in one sitting, went to bed, woke up 5 hours later and finished the rest. It's really hard to put down. It is a profound memoir of a Cambodian-American mother and daughter. Putsata has lived an extraordinary life. Her story is both beautiful and sad. Some have said the book is repetitive, but I did not think so. There are recurring themes, such as trying to please her mother and feeling as though she doesn’t fully belong, but it ties all the stories of her life together. It’s just really good writing, not repetitive.

This book not only tells the story of an immigrant family and the complicated and layered relationship between mother and daughter, but it also gave me a chance to learn a lot about Cambodia, a country I admittedly knew very little about. I’m very grateful for that.

There is a parable in this book that I thought was the perfect explanation of Cambodian culture vs American culture. The rabbit and the snail. As soon as I saw it, I thought, “I know this! It’s the same as the rabbit and the tortoise!” But it is not. The snail called all of his friends and family to stand in for him along the trail, and this way, he won. The snails represent the collectivism of Cambodian culture and puts a lot into perspective from her mother’s point of view.

This is one of the best memoirs I have ever read, and I think it will be the memoir of the year. I’m excited for others to read it and to be able to discuss it with them. My only complaint is that I wish she had included more photographs. Looking forward to part two about the next 40 years, Putsata!

Thank you NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing me with this ARC in exchange for my honest review.

This review is based on an ARC of Ma and Me which I received courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher (Farrar, Straus and Giroux/MCD).

I will never like giving low ratings to memoirs; I feel supremely disrespectful as if I am saying that the author's life story is boring or unworthy of the time spent reading about it. That said, this saga of a memoir is written in quite a monotonous voice, making a story that could have been told in half the pages grow tedious. Much of the book felt repetitive to the point where I ended up skimming--a lot--to get through it.

In the end, sorry to say, I was not moved by the story. Sure, the author and I are fathoms apart in more ways than one, but at the end of the day we are both still human and want to love and be loved, and despite this major similarity I felt no connection.

I get a definite sense of "trying too hard" when thinking back on this book. Reang stated that this narrative is twenty-some years in the making--I believe it. All these thoughts and feelings and events strung across the years, then quickly tied up into one underwhelming package. Upon finishing this read I was more glad to be done with the book than to have read it.

TL;DR Ma and Me was not my cup of tea.