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A review by sarahglen
Bliss Montage by Ling Ma
5.0
A house with 100 exes, a reference to Ghost World—the beloved ScarJo movie of my youth—and a man with "mouth breathers of hands."
What can't Ling Ma's mind do? Los Angeles, G, Peking Duck, and Tomorrow were standouts, but I loved the entire experience of reading this book.
A few excerpts:
"I have done so much G that my adult sense of self formed in the complete absence of my reflection. For a person like me, that’s a certain kind of freedom... Once synonymous with the early-aughts East Coast college scene, as ubiquitous as Vampire Weekend blasting at dorm parties, G has since virtually disappeared after a strict government crackdown."
"Tell the truth in Chinese, I make up stories in English. I don’t take it that seriously. When I’m finally enrolled in first grade, I tell classmates that I live in a house with an elevator, with deer in the backyard. It is the language in which I have nothing to lose, even if they don’t believe a thing I say."
"As her aunt stroked her forehead, she thought that, yes, finally she understood what a homecoming was supposed to be. It was to be comfortable in a way you couldn’t be elsewhere. It was to be mothered into an oblivious ooze."
What can't Ling Ma's mind do? Los Angeles, G, Peking Duck, and Tomorrow were standouts, but I loved the entire experience of reading this book.
A few excerpts:
"I have done so much G that my adult sense of self formed in the complete absence of my reflection. For a person like me, that’s a certain kind of freedom... Once synonymous with the early-aughts East Coast college scene, as ubiquitous as Vampire Weekend blasting at dorm parties, G has since virtually disappeared after a strict government crackdown."
"Tell the truth in Chinese, I make up stories in English. I don’t take it that seriously. When I’m finally enrolled in first grade, I tell classmates that I live in a house with an elevator, with deer in the backyard. It is the language in which I have nothing to lose, even if they don’t believe a thing I say."
"As her aunt stroked her forehead, she thought that, yes, finally she understood what a homecoming was supposed to be. It was to be comfortable in a way you couldn’t be elsewhere. It was to be mothered into an oblivious ooze."