“It is hard for anything to be heard, and even if anyone hears it, how much of a difference could it really make? What change could it possibly bring, just these words? Just this thing that happened once to one person that the listener does not and will never know. It is just a story. It is only words. She does not know if it will make any difference. She does not know if anyone is listening.”

Over the past few weeks, I listened to Lucy Liu perform the audio production while I took dark, misty morning walks in New York City, Hudson Valley, and my own town. In this speculative novel, the author explores a world that feels very similar to our own, except that the Preserving American Culture and Traditions (PACT) Act encourages Americans to report on each other for behavior that feels un-American, based in racism and anti-Asian sentiment. It’s a powerful story that brought me right back to those scary months in 2021 of attacks on defenseless elderly Asian people. Two familiar emotions rose in me like motor memory: a visceral fear of being out in the open and a twisted relief that we were under pandemic lockdown because at least my parents wouldn’t be in public spaces. And I remembered acutely how putting my "normal" face to go to work that week felt like the biggest act of fakery.

The book is also about the subversive power of stories, and how books, libraries, and librarians can form a resistance. Throughout the tension of the plot, there’s a thread of tentative hope. I have enjoyed all of Celeste Ng’s books, and I think this third release is her best yet. It’s the most ambitious in terms of scope and premise, and she follows this logical pathway in a way that’s probably going to feel uncomfortable, but that’s the point. Don’t miss the author’s note at the end.