A beautiful memoir.
Simu Liu names his parents' treatment of him as abuse (p. 123), and he spent much of his teenage and young adult years being an attention-seeking tryhard. But, oh, he was genuine. He just so earnestly wanted to feel accepted. His path to self-discovery and reconciliation with his parents was nothing short of remarkable. He writes engagingly and comes across as embodying both a bold self-confidence that fuels his pursuit of acting dreams and a realistic sense of humility that ensures he fully appreciates his successes.
Right off the bat, in the prologue, I knew this book would not let me down. Being a superhero in a Marvel movie could not be farther from my own experiences, but Simu Liu's account of his parents' reaction to his landing the role of Shang-Chi resonated with me. I am also a child of Chinese immigrants, and while Simu's family history is vastly different from mine, the culture was familiar, his personal story reminiscent of the many stories within my own community growing up. Yes, representation really does matter, and I especially appreciated his discussion towards the end of the book about how Asian Americans in the entertainment industry rallied around him and helped him to lean into his Asianness.
I think this book would be a great read for teens who may feel lost, oppressed by their parents, or who otherwise feel a sense of not being worthy. Simu Liu is obviously an exception case in that he has a rare gift for performance - not everyone can grow up to be a superhero, after all - but still, this book shows how meaningful it is to feel seen, how important it is to be true to yourself, and that there is always hope for a better existence, for a healthier relationship with your parents.
All that said, I have to say, I found it fascinating how, early in the book, Simu Liu took pains to not make any political commentary, presumably to avoid any repercussions from the long arm of the Chinese government. He makes it clear that his family in China was "unencumbered by any political aspirations whatsoever." (p. 9) I found it jaw-dropping how he matter-of-factly wrote about the Cultural Revolution with absolutely no judgment, for example, when he described how his paternal grandfather lived in a "self-imposed house arrest" to hide from the "Red Guard, a militia of radicalized Chinese youth that harassed, beat, and sometimes killed [intellectuals] in the name of the revolution." (p. 23). I mean, what?! When his father was a child, the Chinese government "required millions of Chinese families to send their children away from home to work in mountainous areas or farming villages to learn the value of hard labor... [and his father's sister], at age fifteen, volunteered to be the one to leave." (p. 24) Seriously, WHAT?!? He even used the euphemism "cadre school" (p. 36) to describe the labor camp to which his maternal grandfather was sent. If any reader is unfamiliar with Communist China's Cultural Revolution, Red Guard, and labor camps, this book provides a shockingly inadequate introduction. I have to assume the downplayed content was an explicit decision to avoid conflict with China, since Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings is controversial in China, and Simu Liu has already gotten into hot water for some past comments.
