Crying in H Mart

I don't like to rate memoirs but this one was so exquisitely and tenderly written that it would feel wrong not to give it 5 stars.

Michelle writes of her experience as a Korean American growing up in a small rural area in Oregon, and of losing her mother to an aggressive pancreatic cancer. She intimately describes how her sometimes turbulent relationship with her mother was deeply intertwined with her culture and it's cuisine, and how after her mother's passing she reconstructs and rediscovers memories of her through Korean food.

I read most of this while listening to the album Michelle wrote (as Japanese Breakfast) while caring for her mother and shortly after her passing, Psychopomp. It was an enchanting experience and I wish that all books could be accompanied by such a beautiful soundtrack.

Her writing navigates the mother daughter relationship with intimate and heart wrenching nuance. The love between Michelle and her mother is palpable, and all that is unsaid between them excruciatingly honest.

Michelle also grapples with her identity and explores the feelings of alienation and inadequacy she experiences within both of her cultures with agonising vulnerability. For most of her life Michelle's mother is what tethered her to her Korean heritage, and this loss therefore left her feeling unentitled to this part of herself.

This powerfully evocative memoir radiates with love, grief, vulnerability, and connection. It left me feeling tender and intensely moved. Call your mum and tell her you love her, and read this book.