a surprisingly fast read, brown girls is an important illustration and exploration of the titular subject in all their aspects: their complex identity, family, the immigrant experience, societal pressure, discrimination in many aspects including their race, gender, sexual orientation, etc.

i particularly enjoy the portrayal of how said life struggles never truly end, there's always another hurdle to jump thru whether it be in terms of schooling, career, romance or family life. it's also satisfying seeing the narrator learns more abt herself and slowly comes to terms w/ her identity and place in the world after reconnecting w/ her motherland, and for the most part 'wake up' from internalized racism & colorism and unconscious self-doubt and hatred.

palasi andreades nuancedly delves into many relevant topics w/in the lives of WOC, esp in relations to whiteness, and the ebb and flow of friendship thru time is realistic. overall, i enjoy this book and hope to read more from the author.

 

So, I got this book as an eARC from Netgalley a few months ago. I had a goal, of course, of reading it before publication, but I am just terrible at following through on that. However, I am only a couple weeks late (so that's an improvement!). Plus, I have to say I'm not mad about being able to get my hands on a legit physical copy - I do prefer reading that way to reading on a kindle. And I have a soft spot for a cute small book like this one. 

 

In Brown Girls, Andreades takes us into the lives of brown girls from Queens. From middle school school cliques and make-up trials and parties to post-high school graduation career and education choices. From family expectations and get-togethers that defy assimilation to friends and siblings whose dreams have fallen flat or choices have led them to futures they never planned. From being the ones who "got out" (and the ones who "are too good for us now, huh?) to the ones who never left (by choice or through inertia). From those who studied law and medicine to those who studied arts and performance. From those who visited family homelands to those who never want to. From those who married and had children to those who followed non-traditional family paths. From those who speak up, choosing activism on behalf of their race/womanhood/sexuality to those who stay silent, choosing not to "rock the boat." And all of them the brown girls who fought tooth and nail for visibility and hope and a future and did it all while singing together at the tops of their lungs and meeting up for midnight pizza and donuts because that's what being there for each other means.  

 

This is an electric and completely original debut novel. Based on the description, I was expecting something totally different: a story that follows a few friends through their specific lives and stories. But this book was decidedly not that. The whole novel is told from a first person plural, "we," point of view (something I've read rarely, if ever), and Andreades gives more of a survey of the lives of brown girls, with many examples and representations and inclusions. There is a range of voices (I love, love, love the repeated recitation of names) and reactions that encompass more than an individual but don’t assign traits specifically. There are shared traits and possibilities. There are places where realities diverge. I was really glad for the short chapters. With the "we" and "our" writing style, as well as the overview type perspective, as opposed to following anyone with more individual detail, it could easily have gotten out of control or overwhelming (and made me feel distant from the voices the author was trying to highlight). Instead, it brought a tangible life to the page, laying out the small details that make a daily existence, that make a life, and it feels like you can reach out and touch it, smell it, taste it, hear it. There’s a tenderness in that shortness that is a masterful literary combination. 

 

For such a short overall piece, Andreades was able to address so many larger, complicated, issues. She highlights all the conflicting messages to (brown) girls like “grow up to have babies/families but don’t get pregnant” and “study and get good grades for success but stay close to home and do you think you’re too good for us?” She touches on class, race, gender and sexuality, family, style, names (oh so many names and I loved that). She shows all the messages explicitly or implicitly, from family and strangers, delivered about what is expected of a brown girl. And she takes the “we,” the faceless/lumped together, and gives them individuality in the myriad ways these brown girls internalize and react to their realities. I feel like I want to really point out that last part again, because it was just masterful. Andreadres really addresses the breadth in the definition/idea of brown girls, and shows the diversity that is lost with the lumping together of all non-white faces. And overall, I love the way all these very real issues and truths are presented as simple reality/fact/existence, without direct judgement or commentary from the author (not at all, not towards a single decision or choice). 

 

I sped through this novel in two or three quick sittings, the writing was just that propulsive. Like I said, I've never read anything like it before and I was blown away by the creativity and the strength of the group voice, the many voices. This was so human, so alive, so fierce. Big yes from me.  

 

“We wonder, But did she look like us? Was she as dark as us? But come on- We don't look like anybody in these books. And nobody looks like us.” 

 

“Our English, impeccable. Our mother tongues, if we were taught them at all, become atrophied muscles, half-remembered melodies.” 

 

“Or families’ legacies, the histories we've inherited: grandparents who never learned to read, U.S.-backed dictatorships, bombs, war, refugee camps, naval bases, canals, gold, diamonds, missionaries, brain drain, the American Dream.” 

 

"We are so visible we have become invisible. Odd that in this moment we dreamt of, we are faceless." 

 

“Brown girls brown girls brown girls who, in their bones, are beginning to understand that they are the sum of many identities, many histories, at once. The colonized, the colonizers. Where do we fall? [...] Realize: whether we like it or not, we lay claim to both.” 

 

“Why did we ever believe home could only be one place? When existing in these bodies means holding many worlds within us. At last, we see.” 

 

“Our brown girls. Strong enough for life itself. Or so we hope. We hope, and that is all we can do.” 

This isn't a book meant for everyone, and I'm counting myself in that. The writing is good, but the usage of the collective We negatively affected my experience of it. The story loses some effectiveness through the method of trying to tell the story of everyone, and absolutely everyone who is a woman of color (Asian, Hispanic, Black, etc.). At one point, I thought it was finally giving us some characters names but then you aren't sure what's happening to whom. Despite the usage of the collective We, the story focuses on a certain kind of experience - those young women who make it out of their immigrant neighborhoods, become white collar professionals, and more affluent lives. There is no emotional connection to any characters, because there are no characters - at least whose names you know. I appreciated the story of the children of immigrants who straddle two worlds, but I wanted something more than good writing. Thank you to NetGalley and Random House who provided me with a free e-copy of the book. 

Brown Girls is transportive, beautiful, enjoyable, a musical and fast-paced read. It's all feeling and rhythm. As a brown girl, as a Pilipina with immigrant parents, even though my context was/is in some ways very different, there were so many moments where my heart sang and ached (sometimes my heart sang to Aaliyah and Mariah. :)). I felt seen in a way I don't often get in novels, even as the book spoke to so many different kinds of brown girls, brown lives.

I think its form and concept is a true feat. That balance of the collective "we" voice with just enough specificity to still be real and personal rather than theoretical; the ooze of place and senses and emotion in a wide swath; the rhythm, the deft control of how the reader runs alongside pace then slows down, or turns focus one way, then the other... 

I found some of the prose itself to be cliché, and some moments to feel a bit forced,

including the inclusion of COVID-19 as another reviewer mentioned and the last chapter in general,

which is why I didn't give this a higher rating myself.

I read this in about two days! If you're the type, I think it would be a great one to read in one sitting and just let wash over you.

I received an advance copy from the publisher Random House via Netgalley for review purposes. This in no way influences my review; all words, thoughts, and opinions are my own.

Brown Girls is a fascinating, think-y story. It isn’t wholly clear who the main character(s) are and is told entirely with the pronoun tense of “we.” This is a super interesting, compelling read that I found difficult to put down. And the writing style flows beautifully, adding to the emotional impact. It is a story of growing up as a brown girl in Queens, NY, a story of friendships, and a story of family. Of figuring out your place in the world and finding connections to roots and community. It was a little shocking when Trump’s presidency and the Covid pandemic became a part of the book, but I think it added to the realism of the story and the experiences it was representing.