Crying in H Mart

I have not heard anything of Japanese Breakfast before, so I enjoyed being surprised by her unconventional path and her rise to fame. I also thought the way that was a background story was really well done. The focus was on her mom and how her mom tied her to other family and culture. It made the role of her mom loom so large. So this felt like it was so much more than a story about her and her mom.

“What we're looking for isn't available at Trader Joe's. H Mart is where your people gather under one odorous roof, full of faith that they'll find something they can't find anywhere else.”

The author relates her story about growing up Korean American in a way that anyone, of any background, can find something in. She grew up in Oregon to a demanding mother, struck out on her own after troubled teenage years, and then returns to care for the same mom as she's fighting cancer. It's an honest look at self-image, grief, and identity that I absolutely loved to read.

Her way of writing was stellar even as she described the many different faces of grief and loss, and while I don't really cry from books, this one brought me close. And, I know this is a weird thing to bring up in a sober review like this, but the food descriptions? Like, 5 stars, easy. 6 stars. All the stars.

Highly recommend giving this a read. Incredibly moving, incredibly powerful.

The words, the prose - the way that Michelle Zauner is able to dive into her own feelings and echo the collective meaning of our relationships to our own mothers. This is a book I am glad I read prior to being a parent - I found here lessons, that felt so relatable on what the relationship to your kids is going to be - and what they'll take away from being a part of you and you a part of them.

I don't know how to review a book like this. I've been torn apart by images of naked, bleeding grief bookended by descriptions of kimchi and the best noodle broths. Impossible how Zauner sways so easily between joyous memories and the still fresh pain of losing her mother. Hoping someday I have half the strength to love like she does.

This book made me dive too deep and too real in Michelle Zainer's life. I felt and cried for her at the end of the book. As someone who fortunately has not lost anyone to terminal illnesses, my eyes were opened to how emotionally tiring and beyound devastating it could be. Off to call my mum to tell her how much I love her.

This being a memoir and quite a personal book I'm not sure what to comment on. I enjoyed reading this and getting to know about her relationship with her mother. It made me think about my relationship with my mother and explore and think about some aspects I haven't thought about or considered before.
This books was well outside of my comfort zone and I am so glad I gave this a try.

The mother-daughter dynamic is a slow and careful walk, holding hands, across a shaky bridge over the abyss. During the teen years, the hands are often dropped and the bridge is generally missing whole sections.

Crying in H Mart is the story of Michelle Zauner's fraught relationship with her mother. Her mother is seen as demanding, petty, unrelenting. Michelle is described as a difficult child. Their relationship is turbulent. The two find moments of peace together through the common bond of their deep love for Korean food.

And then Michelle's mother gets sick. And then she dies. And Michelle is allowed, finally, to cry, to weep, to wail.

Crying in H Mart is a story anyone who has battled with a parent, anyone who has tried to connect with a parent, anyone who has lost a parent can read and love. The writing is vivid, fresh. The stories are completely new while also feeling common to all of us. Zauner does go on a bit too much (for me) about food; at times, I got lost in the detail and in my unfamiliarity with the foods described. But the emotional connection with this book is powerful and evocative and, oddly, healing.

A beautifully written memoir. Although it tackles quite heavy topics like grief, loss of a loved one, identity etc., the writing flows smoothly, enabling an easy enough read. I find it brave of the writer to share incredibly raw and intimate details close to her heart, open to all sorts of criticism, yet she does it, pouring her soul out into this memoir. A word of advice - read this when you're not hungry.

This book will make you incredibly hungry and wistfully sad many, many times over the course of its several sweet and eloquent chapters. Zauner uses a simple and honest directness to unpack her relationship to her mother and cultural identity that makes what could be a mopey navel-gazing exercise into a real pleasure to read.

From the first paragraph I knew I was going to like this book. I saw the essay in social media several weeks ago so I was thrilled when I learned that the author wrote a memoir. Grief is a lonely thing. But I loved how by reading this book, it felt like I wasn't alone. While I'm not Korean, I connected with her experiences, the way her mom used food and acts of services to express her love, how her mom loved shopping and nice things, how important reputation and looks are to her mom, and in general the Asian mom culture that I grew up with. How I loved my mom so much but like the author, a lot of the times failed in showing her.

“It seemed unfair to me that the two of them should have to wait on anyone when their grief was undoubtedly the deepest.”

“For the rest of my life there would be a splinter in my being, stinging from the moment my mother died until it was buried with me.”

“I couldn't fathom joy or pleasure in losing myself in a moment ever again. Maybe because it felt wrong, like a betrayal. If I really loved her, I had no right to feel those things again.”

This is such a beautiful and visceral book! It's of course so sad about Zauner's mother's passing but I felt like I got to know her a little bit which was lovely. It's also a book that will make you very hungry and one that kept me looking up pictures of all the dishes she talks about.

A great book for anyone who loves their mom and food.

My father died of cancer 2014. This book reminded me of too many things I'd rather had forgotten for always. It was cruel. None of the descriptions prepared me for that. So - I'm going to warn you. Graphic description of the effects of cancer, cancer treatments, last days of a beloved one dying, all the pain that you can witness, but not do a thing to alleviate.

But, it was good. Honest, deep, touching. Real. And gave me yet another insight to the Korean culture. BTW, watch Maangchi on YouTube. She is wonderful. Lovely :-)