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Crying in H Mart: A Memoir di Michelle…
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Crying in H Mart: A Memoir (edizione 2021)

di Michelle Zauner (Autore)

UtentiRecensioniPopolaritàMedia votiCitazioni
9023719,057 (4.11)29
"From the indie rockstar of Japanese Breakfast fame, and author of the viral 2018 New Yorker essay that shares the title of this book, an unflinching, powerful memoir about growing up Korean-American, losing her mother, and forging her own identity. In this exquisite story of family, food, grief, and endurance, Michelle Zauner proves herself far more than a dazzling singer, songwriter, and guitarist. With humor and heart, she tells of growing up the only Asian-American kid at her school in Eugene, Oregon; of struggling with her mother's particular, high expectations of her; of a painful adolescence (; of treasured months spent in her grandmother's tiny apartment in Seoul, where she and her mother would bond, late at night, over heaping plates of food. As she grew up, moving to the east coast for college, finding work in the restaurant industry, performing gigs with her fledgling band--and meeting the man who would become her husband--her Koreanness began to feel ever more distant, even as she found the life she wanted to live. It was her mother's diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer, when Michelle was twenty-five, that forced a reckoning with her identity and brought her to reclaim the gifts of taste, language, and history her mother had given her. Vivacious and plainspoken, lyrical and honest, Michelle Zauner's voice is as radiantly alive on the page as it is onstage. Rich with intimate anecdotes that will resonate widely, and complete with family photos, Crying in H Mart is a book to cherish, share, and reread"--… (altro)
Utente:Nikki_Sojkowski
Titolo:Crying in H Mart: A Memoir
Autori:Michelle Zauner (Autore)
Info:Knopf (2021), Edition: First Edition, 256 pages
Collezioni:La tua biblioteca
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Etichette:to-read

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Crying in H Mart: A Memoir di Michelle Zauner

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This very personal and intimate memoir about the author and her dying mother is quite touching. But it was really too personal. The author disclosed things that, in my opinion, should have been kept for herself and close family and friends. I felt nearly voyeuristic in reading about her mother’s dying days and the grief experienced by the family during that time and after her death. This incredibly sad journey was somewhat offset by some happier memories, though not all her childhood memories were happy, either. The author’s descriptions of her Korean culture, most especially the food, were quite interesting. And her discovery of her cooking skills as she delved into Korean dishes was also interesting. This memoir was undoubtedly cathartic for the author, but a little too revealing for me. ( )
  Maydacat | May 24, 2022 |
My review of this book can be found on my YouTube Vlog at:

https://youtu.be/-KW0Oa7E9XI

Enjoy! ( )
  booklover3258 | May 24, 2022 |
This was a nice memoir in which Michelle Zauner pays tribute to her mother. I have been blessed to have a wonderful relationship with my mother so it’s hard for me to understand some of the angst these two had with each other. But my mother is not Korean and so the cultural differences may have something to do with it. The constant corrections and criticisms the mother makes isn’t good for a child. Some are but you must pick and choose your battles for what is important. ( )
  kayanelson | May 19, 2022 |
Crying in H Mart Michelle Zauner
A different kind of read for me, venturing into a memoir, written by a twenty something Korean rock star, but in truth this is a touching story of a young girl dealing with the death of her mother. In doing so she achieves a kind of peace in learning to cook the Korean food her mother made. The story details Michelle Zauner's childhood, at first rebelling against the Korean customs being forced upon her, one of the few Asian kids growing up in Eugene, Oregon. Then as she starts to flourish in her own independence, musical success, a boyfriend,... her mother is diagnosed with terminal cancer. So at 25, Michelle returns to care for her mother, and during that time reclaims some of the identity, the culture and especially the foods that are a part of her. So yes that is why
"I’ll cry when I see a Korean grandmother eating seafood noodles in the food court, discarding shrimp heads and mussel shells onto the lid of her daughter’s tin rice bowl. Her gray hair frizzy, cheekbones protruding like the tops of two peaches, tattooed eyebrows rusting as the ink fades out."
Lines:
Hers was tougher than tough love. It was brutal, industrial-strength. A sinewy love that never gave way to an inch of weakness. It was a love that saw what was best for you ten steps ahead, and didn’t care if it hurt like hell in the meantime. When I got hurt, she felt it so deeply, it was as though it were her own affliction. She was guilty only of caring too much. I realize this now, only in retrospect. No one in this world would ever love me as much as my mother, and she would never let me forget it. “Stop crying! Save your tears for when your mother dies.” This was a common proverb in my household.

Some of the earliest memories I can recall are of my mother instructing me to always “save ten percent of yourself.”

gochujang, a sweet-and-spicy paste that’s one of the three mother sauces used in pretty much all Korean dishes.

tangsuyuk—a glossy, sweet-and-sour orange pork—seafood noodle soup, fried rice, and black bean noodles.

Nowadays, South Korea has the highest rate of cosmetic surgery in the world, with an estimated one in three women in their twenties having undergone some type of procedure, and the seeds of that circumstance run deep in the language and mores of the country.

Food poisoning was a rite of passage. You couldn’t expect to eat well without taking a few risks, and we suffered the consequences twice a year.

The cowboy boots arrived in one of these packages after my parents had vacationed in Mexico. When I slipped them on I discovered they’d already been broken in. My mother had worn them around the house for a week, smoothing the hard edges in two pairs of socks for an hour every day, molding the flat sole with the bottom of her feet, wearing in the stiffness, breaking the tough leather to spare me all discomfort.

“I had an abortion after you because you were such a terrible child!”

That it would ruin the way I saw my father, like a broken plate you’ve glued back together and have to keep using, but all you can see is the crack.

Whenever Mom had a dream about shit, she would buy a scratch card.

and I would think of how my mother always used to tell me never to fall in love with someone who doesn’t like kimchi. They’ll always smell it on you, seeping through your pores. Her very own way of saying, “You are what you eat.”

Dozens of kids left the venue with sleeves of vinyl held under their arms, fanning out into the city streets, my mother’s face on the cover, her hand reaching toward the camera like she’s just let go of the hand of someone below. ( )
  novelcommentary | May 3, 2022 |
While I appreciate books that look at illness and death head-on, I didn't connect with this memoir. The visceral, emotional connection to food, the growing up in a family that can afford international travel and a Bryn Mawr education on a single income, the love of big cities, the feigned befuddlement with religious rituals, the lack of concern about food poisoning...I just don't feel it. ( )
  ImperfectCJ | Mar 19, 2022 |
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Ever since my mom died, I cry in H Mart.
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"From the indie rockstar of Japanese Breakfast fame, and author of the viral 2018 New Yorker essay that shares the title of this book, an unflinching, powerful memoir about growing up Korean-American, losing her mother, and forging her own identity. In this exquisite story of family, food, grief, and endurance, Michelle Zauner proves herself far more than a dazzling singer, songwriter, and guitarist. With humor and heart, she tells of growing up the only Asian-American kid at her school in Eugene, Oregon; of struggling with her mother's particular, high expectations of her; of a painful adolescence (; of treasured months spent in her grandmother's tiny apartment in Seoul, where she and her mother would bond, late at night, over heaping plates of food. As she grew up, moving to the east coast for college, finding work in the restaurant industry, performing gigs with her fledgling band--and meeting the man who would become her husband--her Koreanness began to feel ever more distant, even as she found the life she wanted to live. It was her mother's diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer, when Michelle was twenty-five, that forced a reckoning with her identity and brought her to reclaim the gifts of taste, language, and history her mother had given her. Vivacious and plainspoken, lyrical and honest, Michelle Zauner's voice is as radiantly alive on the page as it is onstage. Rich with intimate anecdotes that will resonate widely, and complete with family photos, Crying in H Mart is a book to cherish, share, and reread"--

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