House of sticks A memoir

Tracing the paths of immigration and poverty, Tran's moving and exceptionally readable memoir is at once heartbreaking, shocking, and hopeful. Young Ly and her family arrive in Queens in 1993 through a humanitarian resettlement program made possible because her father, a former lieutenant for the South Vietnamese army, spent 10 years as a POW. His PTSD and paranoia manifest as anger and violence, his only way of protecting his family. Their tiny, roach-infested apartment transforms into a family-run sweatshop; when that work dries up, they buy a rundown nail salon where only-daughter Ly works weekends starting at age 12. While education is important in her family, Ly struggles in school because her father thinks her much-needed glasses are a government conspiracy. Left at home when her brothers move away, unable to engage with a world she cannot see, Ly retreats into herself, sliding into depression. It takes nothing short of a village to get Ly back on track, but finding her voice is something she must do on her own. Tran is exceptional at telling her story with honesty and without judgment. Readers who loved Tara Westover's Educated (2018) will find a similarly compelling memoir of resilience in a not-often-seen America.

Tran narrates her own memoir, about coming of age as a Vietnamese immigrant to the United States. In a straightforward, no-nonsense manner, Tran describes struggling with extreme nearsightedness, learning of her father's time in a reeducation camp, helping her garment industry parents sew piecework after school, and later working at her mother's nail salon where she had to deal with racist customers. Listeners will cheer as she relates overcoming difficulties at Hunter College and returning to complete her degree, eventually being accepted into Columbia University. VERDICT Tran's debut memoir is recommended for those who loved Tara Westover's Educated, Jeanette Walls's The Glass Castle, and Anchee Min's The Cooked Seed.--David Faucheux, Lafayette, LA

A moving coming-of-age memoir by a young Vietnamese American girl growing up in New York City. "We arrive in the blizzard of 1993, coming from rice paddies, mango trees, and the sun to February in the Empire State," writes Tran in the opening passage, recounting how she came to the U.S. with her parents and three siblings. With very little English and almost no money, as well as a father who suffered from PTSD due to his time as a prisoner of war, the family had limited prospects. As she chronicles the significant obstacles her family faced, Tran also shows their grit and determination to survive and thrive in their new home of Ridgewood, Queens. In her vivid depictions, the author spares no detail of harsh winters, malnutrition, and acute poverty. Progressing from their rough times during the "sweatshop days," the family moved on to own a nail salon, and the children dedicated themselves to their education while also working to support the family in their spare time. As the only daughter, Tran describes her troubled relationships with her siblings and parents as well as the trauma of her father's PTSD. Because he believed that wearing glasses meant admitting failure, Tran suffered unnecessarily from severe visual impairment. Her parents also imparted to her a stoic Buddhism, which emphasizes fate and endurance. Occasionally reminiscent of Ocean Vuong's novel, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (2019), especially in its sharp examination of the unique cultural and social issues facing immigrants from Southeast Asia, the narrative also speaks to the hardships that non-White women endure under the double yoke of sexism and racism. Particularly difficult to read are the sections in which Tran outlines her mental fragility and the failure of the educational system to sustain her. However, with dedication and the support of friends, the author graduated from Columbia with a degree in creative writing and linguistics. A brutally honest, ultimately hopeful narrative of family, immigration, and resilience. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.