A National Book Foundation’s 5 Under 35 honoree delivers her first work of a compulsively readable, genre-bending story of finding her missing birth mother and, along the way, learning the priceless power of self-knowledge.
In 2020, Tracy O’Neill began to rethink her ideas of comfort and safety. Just out of a ten-year relationship and thirtysomething, she was driven by an acute awareness that the mysterious mother she’d never met might be dying somewhere in South Korea.
After contacting a grizzled private investigator, O’Neill took his suggested homework to heart when he disappeared before the job was done, picking up the trail of clues and becoming her own hell-bent detective. Despite COVID-19, the promise of what she might discover—the possibility that her biological mother was her kind of outlaw, whose life could inspire her own—was too tempting.
Written like a mystery novel, Woman of Interest is a tale of self-discovery and fugitivity from convention that features a femme fatale of unique proportions, a former CIA operative with a criminal record, and a dogged investigator of radical connections outside the nuclear family. O’Neill gorgeously bends the detective genre to her own will as a writer, stepping out of the shadows of her own self-conception to illuminate the hopes of the woman of interest she is both chasing and becoming.
“Where does a woman go on her own?” O’Neill—Korean-born, American-raised—knows very little about her birth mother and until 2020, didn’t much care but now she wants some answers. Who is this elusive woman?
The fact that O’Neill knows so little about her mother and hasn’t heard a thing about her in over thirty years means there isn’t much hope of new information but determined as she is, she hires a private investigator to find her “woman of interest”. When that line goes cold, O’Neill sets out to South Korea on her own.
A fascinating memoir in premise but an exhausting read in reality. With prose so clunky, meandering, and edges jutting every which way, it made it difficult to find a flow while reading or to even enjoy. The author seemed detached from the writing and the whole book felt impersonal.
Thank you Harper One and NetGalley for the digital copy in exchange for an honest review. Available 06/25/2024
Oof. This was such a frustrating read because I really wanted to like it. I love memoirs and the premise of this one is really interesting: An adopted Korean woman trying to find her birth mother and all of the challenges - internal and external - that go along with that search. In reality, the writing is so stream of consciousness, and the sentences often long and convoluted, that it was difficult (and exhausting) to follow. I really don’t like to DNF books, but I had to fight the urge from about the first quarter of the book onwards. I kept thinking it would get better, but instead it deteriorated as she made the trip to South Korea to finally meet up with her birth mother. And, I’m not really sure how the entire searching/meeting/knowing experience actually affected her own life going forward…maybe I missed it?
Thank you Harper One and NetGalley for a digital copy in exchange for an honest review.
The book starts off slowly as the author establishes her bona fides as a literary bad girl who likes literary bad boys and is a bit cynical and neurotic. She’s a transracial Korean adoptee who grew up in the blue collar suburbs around Boston which can be very rough indeed so she comes by all this toughness honestly but it’s not really my cup of tea.
Here’s the story: during the pandemic, the author decides she wants to find her birth mother in case the mother might die before she finds her. She hires a private eye who later drops the case. Though she does have a gift for a turn of phrase, no doubt.
Things start to pick up when she finds some close relatives and goes to Korea, still in the pandemic, to chase her mother. It’s all very mysterious with a lot of red herrings. What’s her mom’s real name? Why did she give her daughter up for adoption? The more we learn, the more confusing and sordid they seem. But also more fascinating.
I think the problem with this book is that it has too honest and jagged a shape. The best memoirs feel like novels, with a well crafted and well paced beginning, middle and end. It may not be realistic but it’s what I’ve come to expect.
I’ve read some good books this year and some dull ones. I’ve read books I wanted to cheer and books that had very little to say. And whether I liked a book almost always reflected whether I thought the story, memoir or history told me a good story.
I can’t say that about Woman of Interest. The prose style was so irritating and exhausting that following the story was secondary. Woman of Interest is supposed to be a memoir about a Korean American’s journey to find her birth mother. In fact it’s the extremely self indulgent story of a writer whose mannerisms drown out the story.
To be clear the author’s prose style is “too clever by half.” This writer has never met a turn of phrase she didn’t like.
“I had not evaded taxes, but I had evaded children,” she writes. Every paragraph contains similar turn of phrase. Most included two or more. She tells us that “she became obsessed with a woman.” A little of this goes a long way.
Then writes that she filed a missing person’s report. WHAT? Let’s back up. Was her mother missing? Ah no. The author was adopted. Up until she decides to look for her mother she didn’t care about her. Then she goes to a detective, having skipped the normal steps people take to locate birth parents.
All of this, the overly clever phrasing, the missing details, the lack of any genuine emotion made the book unpleasant even when I wanted to follow the story. Time and time again I found myself rereading because the author didn’t bother to link paragraphs.
The more I read Woman of Interest the more it sounded like the work of an undergraduate showing off—not realizing that people want more than clever phrasing.
The big question is how did this book end up with phrases like “long awaited” and best of the month attached.
3 1/2, practically 4 stars. O'Neill's prose and word choice is beautiful and I enjoyed that, the style hindered it a bit. I really had to push through until she flew to South Korea. I found the semi-stream-of-consciousness-style hindered the beginning as it led to uncertainty/confusion on the timeline of events, and also on who was who. One of the big 'advert' for this book was the disappearance of the PI she hired to find her mom. What happened there was never clear and didn't even really feel like he disappeared, simply got busy and didn't call.
I loved and appreciated her taking the reader so viscerally into her mind and emotions, but at some points, I think, she was the only one who knew what she was talking about.
Navel-gazing at its most whiny. I think I'm the wrong generation to appreciate this book. She ends it with a reference to Finnegan's Wake--really pretentious! (Starred review in Publishers Weekly.)
This is a beautifully written book. The author’s perspective on the search for a biological parent is unique (at least compared to other books I’ve read) and the “conclusion” she comes to about family is touching. This is a good one.
Imagine being extremely articulate and then suddenly immersing in a country where you cannot speak or understand the language. Imagine traveling there to see someone with whom you once shared the most intimate proximity yet who has always been unknowable. Once, you grew inside her womb. But then you were brought to a very far away and different country and you were adopted by a different family. Now, as an adult, you go on a mission to find this other mother who is yet a complete stranger. Imagine that once you manage to meet this mother, you can never get a grasp on who she really is. Tracey O’Neil shares her memories of her journey during the Covid pandemic to meet her birth mother in South Korea. She writes, “Woman of Interest,” a captivating memoir, in which she seeks to know the truth surrounding her life’s beginning. Her experience is nightmarishly frustrating. Interwoven in the memoir are “characters” including her beloved dog and a variety of people important to her life. She has deep connections with her friends and an international spirit. Life goes on and her quest in South Korea merges into her life memories. And she carries on.
I didn't think I would finish this memoir because I didn't like the way O'Neill wrote. But I really wanted to find out if she connected with her birth mother, so I continued, even skipping a paragraph here and there just to get through her stream of consciousness writing.
I LOVED this. And that's coming from someone who usually doesn't go for memoirs. The prose in this is so beautiful and poignant and the story itself is so interesting and important. O'Neill has crafted an incredible story that truly blends genres and is honest, raw, and real. Definitely a must-read!
I cannot get over the immaculate pacing of this book! For the writer to engage us in such deep thought, but keep us on our toes gum-shoeing along with her is such an amazing balance! I love how Tracey alludes to and leaves in so many other areas of her life so that we have a sense of who she is globally. For anyone earning for their birth mother, this book is for you. 💛
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!
Full Rating: 4.75 stars rounded up
In Woman of Interest, Tracy O’Neill offers readers an introspective and haunting memoir that navigates the complexities of adoption, identity, and the relentless search for self-understanding. At its core, the memoir documents O’Neill’s journey to find her Korean birth mother, a quest that she embarks upon in her thirties after a lifetime of being raised by her American adoptive parents. This search, catalyzed by the looming threat of the COVID-19 pandemic, reveals itself to be as much about reconnecting with her birth mother as it is about rediscovering parts of herself long buried under the layers of her adopted identity.
O’Neill’s writing is both philosophically reflective and creatively inventive, weaving a narrative that feels deeply personal yet universally resonant. She delves into the isolating experience of being an adoptee—how it distances her not only from her roots but also from those around her who cannot fully grasp the urgency of her need to find her birth mother. The narrative is rich with introspection, as O’Neill explores the void left by her cultural disconnection, a gap that only widens as she confronts the realities of the American adoption industry and its often exploitative practices.
One of the most compelling aspects of O’Neill’s memoir is her exploration of ancestry and lineage as fundamental components of identity. The discovery of a distant cousin through a DNA test propels O’Neill to Korea, where she hopes to piece together the fragments of her past. Her journey is fraught with challenges, from navigating language barriers to reconciling her dual identities—one tied to her natal family and the other to her adoptive one. The revelation of her Korean name serves as a poignant symbol of the intersection between language, identity, and belonging, further complicating her sense of self.
Despite the eventual reunion with her birth mother and the siblings she never knew, O’Neill finds that the void within her remains. Her memoir poignantly illustrates that the pursuit of one’s truth and lineage does not necessarily lead to closure or completion. Instead, it highlights the fluidity of family, suggesting that the bonds we choose to form can be as meaningful as those we are born into.
Woman of Interest is a layered and contemplative narrative that blends lyrical prose with sharp, analytical observations. O’Neill’s use of intricate sentence structures and vivid metaphors invites readers into a space where vulnerability and philosophical reflection coexist. This memoir is not just a recounting of events but a meditation on the complexities of identity, the struggle for belonging, and the tension between societal expectations and personal freedom.
In conclusion, Woman of Interest is a deeply moving and thought-provoking memoir that masterfully captures the intricacies of identity, family, and the quest for self-knowledge. O'Neill's exploration of her own "mommy issues" is both intimate and universal, offering readers a raw and honest portrayal of the emotional turmoil that accompanies the search for one's origins. Her journey is marked by a profound vulnerability, and her ability to articulate the complex emotions tied to adoption and cultural dislocation is nothing short of remarkable. I found myself completely engrossed in O'Neill's story, admiring her courage to confront these deeply personal issues with such clarity and eloquence. This memoir is a testament to the power of self-exploration and the relentless pursuit of truth, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who appreciates a narrative that is as intellectually stimulating as it is emotionally resonant.
📖 Recommended For: Readers who enjoy introspective and lyrical memoirs, those interested in the intersections of adoption, identity, and cultural heritage, fans of philosophical explorations of self-discovery, and admirers of Maggie Nelson’s The Red Parts.
🔑 Key Themes: Adoption and Identity, Cultural Dislocation, Ancestry and Lineage, Self-Discovery and Belonging, Familial Bonds and Emotional Exploration.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Miscarriage (minor), Pandemic (severe), Cancer (minor), Drug Use (minor), Animal Death (severe), Racism (minor), Rape (minor), Suicide (moderate), Mental Illness (minor), Medical Content (minor), Infidelity (minor), Death of parent (minor), Drug Abuse (minor), Abortion (minor).
Woman of Interest – Tracy O’Neill – 2024 – This is a complex and unsettling account of O’Neill’s international adoption, her search for her birth mother, and journey to South Korea to meet her birth family during the Covid-19 Pandemic (December 2021). O’Neill, a writer, novelist, and educator, completed her MA at Columbia University and currently teaches at Vassar College, “Woman of Interest” is her third book.
The private investigator O’Neill originally hired abandoned her case. Thanks to DNA technology, she was able to contact a distant cousin, “Uncle Phillip” who had moved to the US from South Korea (1986), and knew her birthmother, half-sister and two half-brothers. Phil was happy to help her arrange the trip but recommended a later travel date. Covid infections had increased, there would be a 10-day quarantine period, and later, he would be able to send his daughters to assist and act as translators. O’Neill refused to consider his suggestion and wanted to leave right away. O’Neill didn’t seem to know enough about her birth family, the language, social customs or culture. Instead, she would depend on her uncle and the Google Translation apps.
In South Korea, despite the short notice and introductory period, her family was kind, accommodating, and genuinely pleased meet and host O’Neill, although unsure and perplexed on how to answer her numerous questions and explain their family dynamic. Her “Eomma” had likely faced severe judgment and stigma in polite Korean society for O’Neill’s birth by a man who was married to someone else, divorce, and children with different fathers. None of these things made her a criminal or con-artist. O’Neill believed that her Eomma was a liar, (and seemed to judge her by American standards) she refused consent to the release of additional records by the Eastern Social Welfare Society, and her youngest brother was unavailable to meet her.
Outside of Seoul, O’Neill’s Eomma lived in a luxury 3-bedroom high rise apartment building with her geriatric dog. Due to the change in time zones, O’Neill was exhausted (irritable) and unable to sleep well, yet this was a poor excuse for her disrespectful and shameful treatment of her elderly mother as she prepared for an early departure. Back in the states O’Neill resumed her life in Brooklyn, and it was surprising her South Korean family (including her uncle) wanted to have any contact with her. With thanks to our Public Library System. - 2*FAIR
In her memoir Woman of Interest, Korean-American writer Tracy O'Neill, who was born in South Korea in 1986 and adopted and raised by an Irish-American family, talks about her journey to find her birth mother. She eventually tracks down her birth mother through finding relatives on commercial ancestry tests and travels to South Korea to meet her extended birth family in late 2021 through heavy COVID restrictions, but it doesn't go well (to put it mildly).
I think this memoir might be useful to fellow transracial adoptees, or adoptees whose birth family search was disappointing, upsetting, or unfulfilling. I found it hard to engage with O'Neill's writing style throughout, which feels staccato, sardonic and disjointed. It would make sense to use this writing style to describe O'Neill's time in South Korea (as she doesn't speak Korean, so inevitably her translation app enabled conversations must have felt stilted), but it was an odd choice to use this narrative voice throughout.
I did not love this memoir and I’m a huge fan of memoirs in general. The plot of this book is very chaotic and makes the memoir aspect more confusing than it needs to be. Honestly I don’t think the style of prose O’Neill adopts does justice to her story. I think a more straightforward style of writing would have been more impactful and reflective of her experience.
The book broadly follows author Tracy O’Neill’s hunt to find her Korea birth mother in 2021 during the throes of the omicron variant of COVID. After growing up feeling like she didn’t desire to meet her birth mother, her mind changes in her 30s and she hires a PI and gets in touch with extended family, later flying out to Korea to meet her extended family. What follows is an unusual tale of truths as O’Neill tries to leverage who she expects her mother to be versus who she actually is.
The author jumps in between referring to herself in the first person and third person too much, and it made it hard for me to understand who she was talking about. Some self-names include “the prodigal daughter” and “risen daughter” amongst other names. Also the side characters get confusing and hold no significance to the plot. I think the detail around her boyfriend at the time could have been cut down or left out entirely. I also wondered why she included some of the vignettes of her earlier hunt for information, if only to extend the length of the novel.
Some reviews called O’Neill’s prose “bracing” but I think the better word for it is messy, intense, and meandering. I don’t think her writing style is well suited for a memoir, but to each their own. I read a lot of impactful memoirs and this one left me feeling confused more than anything. The plot twists were interesting and wholly unique though, so two stars for the drama.
Tracy O'Neill has written a brilliant memoir on her journey of locating her birth mother in Korea under the backdrop of the COVID 19 pandemic. Her writing is instantly captivating and kept me wanting to continue with her story, even though, truthfully, I didn't remember requesting this memoir, but her perspective and story is fascinating. Additionally, there is so little representation of AAPI adoptees working to find their birth parents, and this memoir details why this can be such a challenging undertaking.
Throughout, her existing relationships are woven into the story - her network of friends, her partner at the time, N, and her adoptive mom. Her characterizations of everyone are incisive and I had so many highlights throughout of fantastic quotes. When referring to the overwhelming experience of meeting her birth mother and family in Korea all while dealing with a language barrier - she says " I don't hate her at all. I am just drowning in her" I think it was also particularly poignant that she later refers to keeping up her relationships with friends overseas that "This is what we give each other at a distance: language" further underscoring the challenges associated the language barrier with her Korean family
Tracy also explores what "home" means - and sometimes, many of the times, home is your dog, something I relate to heavily and a theme that reprised.
I very much recommend the book. Thank you to NetGalley and to the publisher, HarperOne, for the advanced copy.
My thanks to #thefutureofagency and @harperonebooks for a #gifted copy.
Woman of Interest by Tracy O’Neill sounded like my type of took. I love memoirs and the story of a woman searching for her birth mother caught my interest quickly. However, the style of writing took some getting used to.
While this story was interesting, as I mentioned, the author strikes out in her own, special, storytelling manner. In some ways, it reminded me of poetry, where style is unique.
Did I get used to this unique method of relating her story? Yes. But the format and sentence structure felt difficult and I found working too hard to enjoy it.
That said, being unique is exciting. The story was interesting. But I believe this book will have divided reviews. Readers will either love it,
It’s a processing of an experience that probably would have been more traumatic if the person had been more idealistic when beginning the search for her birth mother but these things are never very idealistic & even the most Pollyanna of us will end up left with cold, hard reality at the end of the day when it comes to our parents, no matter how many sets we may have in life.
Maybe it’s because I’m adopted & my own biological family was far from perfect, though half were more normal than the rest in their flaws, but I loved this memoir. It was real, it was dirty, it felt like something from the 60s in its style of prose. Tracy O’Neill writes like she talks, and that’s something I relate to because, hey, same as I’m sure the reader has figured out by now.
If you want a happy story with a satisfying ending that ties things up neatly, look elsewhere. This is reality, and sometimes you find the woman you’ve been seeing in your periphery your entire life and realize the intrigue was in the uncertainty, the not knowing and once you know?
Well, reality is bleak, dirty and uncompromising in how little it cares about what would make for a better narrative. It’s when life starts following a clear narrative things get messy and chaotic, anyway, so maybe it’s the better ending to hope for in the end.
This book has an identity crisis that mirrors that of the author. Where the prose rambles through genres—experimental, sentimental, commercial, intellectual, romantic drama, family saga, or noir— so does the author/writer/narrator/daughter/lover/professor wander through various idiosyncrasies of mindset, temperament, and emotion, without interrogating her motivations, reactions, apathies, or antipathies. In her quest to meet her, O'Neill refers to her birth mother as a woman of interest; I was hoping both women would be more interesting.
So many Wittgenstein allusions were lost on me, without direct connection to O'Neill's own thoughts and texts. I wanted to hear more—and more clearly, directly, not in winding, disaffected prose—about how her experience growing up Korean American in a European American family shaped her emotionally and intellectually. At the beginning of the book it is not clear why O'Neill wants to find her birth mother, and even by the end of the book she does not seem to have reflected on the needs that drove her to pursue the quest or on what to make of its aftermath.
I'm a Korean adoptee, like the author, and I was struck by how much I related not only to Tracy O'Neill's search for her birth mother, but the thematic questions she raises throughout the book, though I suppose those two things are not mutually exclusive. However, I imagine a lot of readers, no matter what their background, will connect to the following: the concept of 'home' being a moving target, a feeling of fierce loyalty toward to your friends, a worry that the stories you've been told by other family members about your early childhood could actually be a long con, and an existential wondering about what a good second half of life looks like, especially if you're potentially not getting married and having children. All ideas that are circled in Woman of Interest, a memoir that pushes the boundaries of the genre in both its prose and approach. I also felt the book's focus on investigation and its atmosphere of paranoia was a nice follow up to O'Neill's previous novel, the spy novel Quotients.
I enjoyed reading this book. It is quirky, humorous, and it reads like a novel with a stream of consciousness orientation. It works. The author, a professor of literature, takes the reader on a journey to find her birth mother in Korea. We never learn exactly why in the mist of Covid she undertakes this endeavor. It’s not like she had been wanting to find her birth mother all of her thirty-three years. Perhaps, the breakup of a ten-year relationship had something to do with it. The reader can only surmise.
As a Korean adoptee myself, I was initially drawn to the memoir, despite my lack of interest in finding anyone biologically-related to me. Yet, as a reader of memoirs, this book takes the reader on a wonderful journey of discovery. The author’s writing style is different, not linear, so if one is not paying attention, details can be missed. But, it keeps you on your toes.
Dazzled. Impressed beyond words, one might say, except that words, and language, are at the root of this acrobatically adroit memoir, which approaches the adopted-child-seeks-birth parents story in the freshest, funniest, most literate, heartbreaking way. I’m reminded here of Patricia Lockwood’s writing: mordantly witty; achingly sad; brilliantly new. Tracy O’Neill, New Rngland-raised but South Korean born, seeks to bridge the language divide, and international time zones, only to find that,no matter how ones tries to bend the arc towards those who birth or raise us, the family we create—the family of friends that we build—understands our love language best. (Loved the terrifically apt cover, too)!
Intriguing memoir thirty year old American adoptive daughter searching for her Korean mother, during covid. Knowing people with similar backgrounds, but now well, I wonder how they would relate to this story. Is it possible to be satisfied, to know another person. Could be similar query for longing to know family members who are no longer alive…. What happened? What was their experience like? And then when possible to find out more discovering that it’s not as satisfying as was hoped
The writing is similar to stream of consciousness which frequently makes it difficult to follow, need to reread some phrases multiple times. She is writing as if to another writer who values writing, searching for meaning and relationship.