Crying In H Mart - Michelle Zauner [Review]

If you've been around for a while, you'll know that this book has taken me a long time to read. I started this back in January and then again two or three times since. No matter how hard I tried, I always made it about a quarter of the way in before finding myself completely disengaged. 

I have been sharing my progress while reading this and people have offered some interesting thoughts. One observation was that there is a clear difference in opinion between men and women who read this book. Several people also suggested the mother-daughter relationship at the heart of this memoir resonated disproportionately with female readers. 

On the surface, it may make sense that this book did not appeal to me, but that was not the case. What surprised me most about this was just how much of the early portion of this book DID resonate with me; the inner conflict due to Zauner's dual identity, struggling to fit in at school as a minority, and at home too for being westernised; her fear of becoming dissociated with her Korean heritage and culture; Zauner and her mother's shared love of food and the association it has with her Korean heritage; the way her mother showed her love, less through words of affirmation and more through actions. Yet, despite all this, my impression (and I take no joy in admitting this) was that this was boring, and I found it very difficult to shake that feeling.

I don't like to leave books unread; the idea that the secret that unlocks the entire book may be on the next page can keep me going. It would also be unfair to hold such a strong opinion on something I didn't finish, like judging the Mona Lisa from only the bottom of the painting. 

And so I finished the book, and I owe Michelle Zauner an apology, because it was really, really good. 

The book is a kind of homage to her mother and their relationship. She recounts their troubled relationship, the pair constantly at odds, the gap between them only widening further as Zauner grows up, intertwined with their deep connection through traditional Korean food. When her mother becomes ill, their roles are reversed; it is Zauner who is now taking care of her mother, it is Zauner who has the stress of keeping their fragmented family together, and it is Zauner who finds solace from all of the above in learning to cook traditional Korean food.

Even in hindsight, the first portion of the book feels oddly distinct from the rest, but it's clear that it serves as background to their lives before her mother's illness and provides some much-needed context to Zauner's grief and anguish. 

Her writing is impeccable, particularly when recounting her thoughts and emotions following her mother's diagnosis. Her relationship with her mother wasn't perfect, and she doesn't pretend it was anything otherwise. Instead, she writes honestly and without filter, making herself quite vulnerable but creating a wholly genuine and relatable memoir. It immortalises her mother in a way that I can't imagine she could in any other way. 

Her depictions of both her mother's pain and her own are palpable and seem to last forever. Writing this would make anyone feel vulnerable, and it felt that this was intended more as therapy for her than for anyone else's benefit. I thought her approach was impressively wise and mature, and I regret not finishing this earlier.