The Manicurist's Daughter

by Susan Lieu

An emotionally raw memoir about the crumbling of the American Dream and a daughter of refugees who searches for answers after her mother dies during plastic surgery

Susan Lieu has long been searching for answers about her family’s past and about her own future. Refugees from the Vietnam War, Susan’s family escaped to California in the 1980s after five failed attempts. Upon arrival, Susan’s mother was their savvy, charismatic North Star, setting up two successful nail salons and orchestrating every success―until Susan was eleven. That year, her mother died from a botched tummy tuck. After the funeral, no one was ever allowed to talk about her or what had happened.

For the next twenty years, Susan navigated a series of cascading questions alone―why did the most perfect person in her life want to change her body? Why would no one tell her about her mother’s life in Vietnam? And how did this surgeon, who preyed on Vietnamese immigrants, go on operating after her mother’s death? Sifting through depositions, tracking down the surgeon’s family, and enlisting the help of spirit channelers, Susan uncovers the painful truth of her mother, herself, and the impossible ideal of beauty.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Audiobook, Biography, Biography Memoir, Book Club, Family

11 pages, Audible Audio

First published March 12, 2024

Reviews

[emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

i love memoirs.

my fiance's family shares a heritage, a similar story, and the same favorite dishes as this author and her family, so reading about all three was a really lovely way to get to know my future in laws better! this story is packed with emotion, but it felt like sometimes what the author wanted to convey surpassed her writing experience, leaving us with repetitive and showy language.

as an eldest, i found myself sympathizing a lot with this youngest daughter's siblings and her husband. i wish there was more reckoning with the fact that she thought her mourning was the only acceptable kind, and that her loved ones had to deal with a lot as she went through this process and publicly performed their story in multiple ways. there was a lot of emotion and development that i wish extended more to the author, who didn't change much.

but also in spite of all of that, i have a really positive impression of this book and smile whenever i see it in a bookstore. so take everything with a grain of salt.

bottom line: this is a strong debut and i'm excited for more from this author <3

(3.5 / thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)

[Mai H. · Rating 5 out of 5]

$5.49 hardcover at Book Outlet

Part I: Ma

A book in six parts, Susan takes the word ma, made different by adding diacritics. This first section, ma, means ghost. It takes place in her youth, growing up in and around her mother's nail salons.

The last time Susan spoke to her mom, she told her she hated her. The next time she saw her, she was in a coma. Days later, she died from a botched plastic surgery. The surgeon was known for preying on Vietnamese women. He did not have malpractice insurance. He continued to practice.

Part II: Mả

The Korean yoga cult scares me. I understand that feeling of disconnect and divide from your family can sometimes feel so strong that you feel pressure to pour out your feelings to literal strangers.

As someone that just took my first trip to Vietnam, hearing about the juxtapositions between Susan's trips as a child and as a working adult make me smile. There is nothing quite like landing in Asia, and Southeast Asia in particular has a set of sounds and smells that, while not inherently familiar to me, were.

Part III: Mà

The blending of Vietnamese and Korean culture at Susan and Marvin's wedding greatly amused me. I enjoy both countries' traditional dress, and am glad they wore both. The juxtaposition between Susan's mostly working class upbringing and Marvin's upper middle class one struck me as something significant. Even the act of eating can bring shame.

Part IV: Má

This section was long. For a section named after Susan's mother, I expected nothing less.

The Paris by Night chapter had me howling. I 100% remember everyone being enamored with Dalena, a white blonde woman that sang in Vietnamese. I don't understand the excitement.

What is disheartening to me is when Susan mentions the plastic surgery ads post-show. They are so ingrained in me as "normal" that I forgot about them. And while I would never police a woman's right to choose what to do with her own body, as long as it's her own choice, the fact that these women paid through the roof to fix their bodies for men makes me sad.

Part V: Mạ

Susan being dramatic on the mountain = ME

I can't believe Marvin wrote a program for Alexa to give Susan compliments instead of just complimenting her himself. Well, I can, but you know what I mean. Men smh.

I'm still iffy on kids for myself, but I think it would be so special to have them call me Mẹ. I used to call my own mom that, until one day it segued into mom. I'm not sure when or why that is. Well, I probably know the why.

I cried a little when Susan couldn't even croak out the word má, when she and Marvin were deciding what they wanted their son to call them. I'm glad she chose that, and he chose appa. Made me smile.

Part VI: Mã

This section title confused me a bit. I know the word horse as ngựa. Mental note to ask my parents if this is a dialect thing.

We spend most of this book focused on Susan's mother, and this is understandable, but this section focuses on her father. His zodiac animal is the horse, which makes this make so much more sense. There is some growth and healing that happens for the both of them. Some things never change, and some never will, but I was happy with the resolution.

Book pairings: SLOW NOODLES | WHERE RIVERS PART

📱 Thank you to NetGalley and Celadon Books

[Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really liked the emotional honesty in this book. Susan Lieu writes about how at 13 years old, her mother passed away after a botched plastic surgery procedure. Lieu is real about her grief and all the dysfunctional (e.g., joining a cult) and more functional (e.g., learning about her parents’ refuge stories and lives in Vietnam) ways she coped with her loss and her intergenerational trauma. Throughout the memoir Lieu incorporates interesting and nuanced themes related to body image, emotional and physical abuse, and learning how to love yourself and where you come from. It’s absolutely wild and sickening that a white male plastic surgeon was profiting off vulnerable Vietnamese women’s body image insecurities, and Lieu is courageous for writing about her and her mother’s story. As a side note, I enjoyed reading about her and her Korean husband and how she called out a commercial she auditioned for that was forcing the Asian woman/white man trope.

I did find the writing quality a bit uneven throughout the memoir and could see Lieu’s experience as a performer come through, in that this may have been adapted from her show. I also didn’t love her comment about how getting married to a Korean person is like marrying up or dating up within the Asian community. I know she might have meant it as a joke or as a jab toward her own internalized stuff, but I do think there is bias toward East Asians (e.g., they often have lighter skin) within the Asian American community and I don’t love when fellow Southeast Asians perpetuate this without at least a bit more rebuttal. Still, I appreciated the unapologetic Vietnamese-ness of this memoir and am glad that Lieu put her story out into the world.

[Mallory · Rating 5 out of 5]

If I am completely honest I almost didn’t pick up this book to read it. Don’t get me wrong, the description was interesting and I love when a writer is willing to share so honestly their emotional journey. But since losing my own father a couple of years ago I am leery of stories about grief. Grief is sneaky and a life long process, so I try to avoid the things that I know will tear me up so badly. I’m glad I didn’t let that hesitation stop me from reading this book. Susan does an excellent job describing her process of grief. While I could relate to some aspects of her grief Susan’s experiences were vastly different than mine and I loved the glimpse into her life. Susan’s parents were immigrants to America and worked hard in the nail salons they owned. When Susan was 11 her mother died from complications from a tummy tuck. Being the youngest Susan had the least memories, but her family pushed moving on and working hard. Susan spent years working to process how she felt and trying to discover exactly who her mother was. There was a lot of rich Vietnamese culture and the descriptions of the food were amazing and left me hungry, This book is an emotional roller coaster. It is raw and brutally honest and I definitely recommend it.

[Emily Nicoletta · Rating 2 out of 5]

I mean this in the most loving, gentle way I can muster—and I can say what I am about to say because I am quite literally the same kind of person, so I too would imagine myself writing the same way—but Lieu is the epitome of the obnoxious youngest child, and it shows so clearly throughout her memoir.

There were some moments in The Manicurist’s Daughter that were incredibly touching, human, and beautiful. My favorite was Lieu’s recounting of dining at Sizzlers after her family’s first $1k day at the salon. There was something magical in her recount, a seemingly simple event cherished so wholeheartedly. I was also intrigued to hear her parents’ story and their harrowing experience escaping Vietnam. If this story had focused more on her parents, I think I would have liked it much more.

However, this was Lieu’s memoir, and therefore it centered on herself. The basis of this book was less about her family’s experiences as a whole and more about Lieu’s obsessive personality, without ever addressing the negatives of her obsessive behavior. There were far too many moments in this memoir that felt nearly pointless or inserted just to insert. I felt that editing things down would have benefited this book dramatically.

But my biggest gripe was with Lieu as a whole. Again, I am a hypocrite because I am literally the same as her, and I know I’d approach things the same way—but admittedly, I would never write or read my own memoir for this very reason. From beginning to end, Lieu came across as an entitled, whiny child who constantly waxed poetic about how she knew more or deserved to know more than everybody else, was the only one who cared, and constantly leaned into a victim mentality. Not once did she ever read the room or take responsibility for anything that took place in her life; quite literally, every single thing that could have gone wrong, big or minuscule, placed the blame on those around her. She accidentally joins a spiritual cult in college; she blames her family for not showing her enough love as the basis that drove her to this rather than her own lack of research. She gets chastised when she shows up to her family’s lifelong temple in shorts (as a full-grown adult who attended regularly, by the way); she makes what SHE decided to wear everybody else’s problem and blames her family members for not telling her she should have changed her outfit. Despite her family begging her to move on and find closure elsewhere, she obsessively tries to hunt down and destroy her mother’s plastic surgeon’s life purely for the sake of revenge, and gets angry when they say they won’t help her do so and that they have already found closure themselves.

The Manicurist’s Daughter was 300+ pages of self-centering, complaining, repeating the same thing over and over again, and promoting her play, with some half-hearted moments of “realizing stuff” sprinkled in here and there. This was not a long book, but the way it was written, the repetition, and the lack of author self-awareness admittedly made it a challenge to get through.

If Lieu had focused more on her parents instead of herself, or toned down the positioning of herself as a perfect person who can do no wrong, I think it would have been much more impactful.

[*TUDOR^QUEEN* · Rating 3 out of 5]

I love to read about Asian cultures, especially those who have emigrated to the United States and work hard to create their own businesses. Families who recruit their own children to help out in little ways with running these businesses, teaching them skills and personal responsibility, instilling survival skills. This is a memoir written by the youngest daughter of a Vietnamese family. She suffered the emotional scar of the early death (in her thirties) of her mother from a botched plastic surgery. Sue was eleven when she lost her mother, and horribly, she had just fought with her mother that morning screaming that she hated her. They owned two successful manicurist salons.

The book tracks the evolution of Susan's grief and voluminous questions she yearns to be answered about her mother. She is forever frustrated by her family members with their reluctance to delve deeply into these issues, preferring that they all just move on from this tragedy. Susan persists in investigating her mother's death, acquiring depositions in the malpractice case, taking trips to Vietnam, and slowly, methodically, piecing together the mother Susan barely got to know. She then painstakingly created a theatrical show depicting this family tragedy as a mechanism for working through the grief and desire to connect with her deceased mother.

I found many elements that I enjoyed in this book such as the previously mentioned work ethic employed in running the nail salons, her descriptions of all the little moving parts of opening the salon each day, the various clientele and services performed. It was interesting and fun being a voyeur in little Susan's world when her larger than life mother Jennifer ran the show. Reading about how she vacuumed the floor, helped remove nail polish, phoned customers to remind them of their appointment, etc. I usually love to read about the food culture, but there was a bit too much elaborated in that area. I also felt the memoir could have been edited down some as things got so repetitous in the final chapters that I found myself skimming. I also found it difficult differentiating family members when she would use their Vietnamese names. Overall it was a good read with an important message. It's a shame that women that are so beautiful already, not just physically but as human beings, feel that they have to get these plastic surgery procedures. It was also unfortunate how multiple female relatives would bluntly comment negatively on Susan's weight, even after just having a baby, knowing that their matriarch died years ago from a tummy tuck.

Thank you to the publisher Celadon Books who provided an advance reader copy via NetGalley.

[Katie B · Rating 5 out of 5]

Susan Lieu’s family were refugees from the Vietnam War and escaped to California in the 1980s. Her mother opened up nail salons, employing most of the family, including a grade school age Susan. Sadly when Susan was 11 years old her mother died from a botched tummy tuck. Talk about her mother and what happened was forbidden. Understandably, that’s something Susan struggled with as there were so many unanswered questions. The Manicurist’s Daughter is about Susan’s journey navigating all these complex feelings that will hopefully put her on the road to healing.

Wow, this memoir really blew me away. My heart broke for Susan as a young girl but also Susan as an adult. She was able to channel her emotions surrounding the loss of her mother into this book and the result is something that is quite uplifting and heartfelt. Such a worthwhile read about strength and determination and finding your way.

Highly recommend if you are looking for a book that explores grief and complicated parent-child relationships.

Thank you Celadon for sending me a free copy! All thoughts expressed are my honest opinion.

[Jaime Fok]

A beautiful memoir about family, trying to fit in as an Asian American, grief from losing a parent and the struggle with body image. To finding justice, peace and closure.

Loved this read!

[kimberly · Rating 5 out of 5]

“On the last day of her life, Má, my Vietnamese refugee mother and proud owner of two nail salons, went in for plastic surgery—a tummy tuck, the narrowing of her nostrils, a chin implant—and figured she would be home the next day with her beautiful new body.”

At the age of eleven, after her mother passed from a botched plastic surgery, Lieu struggled to grieve. Raised in a family that never showed emotion or vulnerability, Lieu’s mother was hardly spoken of after her death and Lieu had to rebuild her life alone in silence. For years, Lieu wrestled with the question “why”. Her mother had it all—the American Dream, the picture-perfect life. Why would she risk it all for physically beauty?
We follow Lieu as she searches for answers about her mother, works to heal herself and her hostile relationships with family members, and works to find her place in the world as an American-raised Vietnamese woman.

Lieu’s Vietnamese roots are braided throughout this entire memoir and I found it fascinating to read about. From names and phrases to traditional Vietnamese meals and practices, I was swept away by the way Lieu wrote about her heritage. Lieu is a natural storyteller and writes in a way that makes you crave more of her words. An incredible read that will stick with me for a long time and a must read memoir for 2024.

Thank you NetGalley for my digital copy. Out 03/12/2024!

[Vanessa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even though we were boat people who came to America in 1983, Ma's awful death made us refugees a second time in 1996. We had to rebuild our lives all over again, but instead of doing it together as we had always done with Ma at the helm, each of us did it alone in silence. I have tried to process her death with therapists over the years, but retelling the narrative over and over again wears down even the steadiest of treadmills.

Full disclosure: I won a copy of this from Celadon Books in a giveaway, so thanks to them and the author.

Second disclosure, I had mixed feelings about winning this book because while I was interested in it, it also sounded like a huge bummer. Maybe you have read the description and think so too so let me say up front---

Susan Lieu can WRITE, y'all. She writes like someone born to write and to be able to find your purpose like that is a blessing.

When Susan Lieu was 11, her mother died from a botched tummy tuck and the surgeon, who preyed on immigrant women, never faced any real consequences. Her memoir spirals back and forth in time from this event, which was a smoking before/after crater in her life: remembering how her parents escaped to the US from Vietnam and her mother's creation of a small nail salon business from nothing that was able to provide emigration opportunities and jobs to various family members. In the aftermath, Lieu attempts to move on but can't heal from this event, particularly when her extended family unit fractures and stops talking about her mother.


I find it really difficult to review memoirs since it's just someone talking about their life but this reminds me a bit of Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail. Not so much Strayed's style, for those who didn't like that book (although I loved it), but the way Lieu, like Strayed, can make any story edge-of-your-seat fascinating. The sensory overload of her stories about the food were my favorite, whether it is at the family dinner table or Sizzler.

Despite the heavy subject matter, this is mesmerizing (the story of how her parents escaped from Vietnam, I mean, Jesus!) I recommend it.

[Tammy · Rating 4 out of 5]

THE MANICURIST’S DAUGHTER is a debut packed with emotion. This memoir delves into the grief and unanswered questions of a Vietnamese refugee’s daughter after her mother tragically passes from an elective surgery - - a tummy tuck - - gone wrong. By traveling to her home country of Vietnam, Lieu’s research uncovers why her mother’s perfectionism and warped body image contributed to her wanting plastic surgery. It felt very real with Lieu’s truths exposed.. about her three sister’s refusal to talk about their mother or her death, and how without support she became obsessed about it. When her family finally did validate her feelings she was able to free herself by not going through it alone. Thoughtfully told, it is well worth the read. 4 stars — Pub. 3/12/24

[Marissa Lorenzo · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book gives youngest child energy (derogatory)

[CYIReadBooks (Claire) · Rating 2 out of 5]

I typically enjoy biographies and memoirs. And while I did enjoy the beginnings of The Manicurist’s Daughter, my interest waned after 54% I still managed to skim the remainder of the memoir and I don’t think I missed anything noteworthy.

As a reader that has a tendency to “mouth” foreign words and phrases, the constant barrage of Vietnamese names and phrases became a detriment to my ready enjoyment. I lost track of people and/or relatives, especially when there were only Vietnamese names involved. As such I probably would have enjoyed listening to an audiobook version so I wouldn’t have to fumble over pronunciations.

The memoir wasn’t what I was expecting. I thought the book would delve more into the body image/malpractice angle of her mother as well as the effects of the interratial marriage between her and her Korean husband. But, I just got smatterings of them.

The Manicurist’s Daughter wasn’t the best memoir that I’ve read. But it wasn’t the worst, either. Two okay stars.

I won an ARC from Celadon Books through the Bookish First raffle. I was also invited to read the DRC from Celadon Books through NetGalley. The review herein is completely my own and contains my honest thoughts and opinions.

[Gayle J. · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a must-read! It is beautifully crafted and written. Funny, personal, vulnerable, authentic and culturally intriguing.. It is a book that heals, inspires and honors everything that makes us human. Bravo Susan! Available to pre-order now!

[Allison · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Manicurist's Daughter by Susan Lieu has recently been named one of the most anticipated books of 2024 by Goodreads and I could not agree more with this recommendation. I loved so many things about this book. Ms. Lieu writes eloquently and poignantly about her family's departure from Vietnam as refugees and adjustment to life in the US. Lieu's mother, the matriarch of the family opens and operates nail salons in California leading the family with charisma, bravery, and hard work. She dies tragically when Susan is 11 years old from a botched tummy tuck. The author describes her journey as an adult to learn about her mother. The Manicurist's Daughter reveals several challenges that immigrants and first generation families face at the hands of manipulative physicians and mind controlling cult leaders. Body image, expectations of perfection and unwritten rules about food challenge the Lieu family and this struggle is captured in heartbreaking ways in the Manicurist's Daughter.

This is one of the best memoirs that I have read in 2023 and I highly recommend it.

Thank you to NetGalley and Celadon Books for an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Renée | apuzzledbooklover · Rating 4 out of 5]

Susan Lieu’s mother died when she was 11 as a result of botched cosmetic surgery. Her mother was only 38 years old. This had such a profound and long-lasting impact on her life. Her story drew me in right from the start. Her parents were Vietnamese immigrants who worked hard to provide for their family, although they struggled in many ways.

This book highlights | 
•Identity
•Body image 
•Family dynamics
•Loss and healing

Susan yearned to know the answer as to why her mother felt she needed the surgery. And why wouldn't other family members talk about it? It was taboo. Food played a huge part in her life, for many reasons.

‘When I am with my family, we talk about three things: how to make money, how to save money, and what we are going to eat next.’

There’s so much to learn from her experiences. I would highly recommend this memoir!

CW | Contains some instances of strong profanity, not frequent. Body shaming.

4.5 stars

[Emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

Whenever I read a memoir, I can usually connect with the narrator no matter how different their life is from mine. It makes it super disappointing the very few times I just don't feel any connection.

The Manucurist's Daughter was unfortunately one of those times. I feel awful leaving a lackluster review about such a personal, intimate book; this is not a fluff piece ghostwritten for a Hollywood actor, it's a work of love and pain, it's an important milestone in Susan Lieu's family life, I can tell that much.

And yet I had to motivate myself to keep reading and to finish it. I really don't understand why and I'm sure the problem comes from me not from the book, so don't let me discourage you. You just have to look at the plethora of 5-stars reviews to understand I'm very much the minority here.

I was particularly bored by what seemed to me an endless list of psychics, mediums and spirits facilitators. I understand it's important in Susan Lieu's culture, I respect that but to me, it was just too many details about the same things over and over. I am not spiritual at all so again, I'm sure this book will resonate more with other people.

I was happy I persevered and read until the end though because I was really glad to see how this book had helped Susan Lieu and her family come to terms with her mother's death and find a way to talk about it. She sounds in a much better place now and that was very heartwarming.

I also really enjoyed everything about her parents' life both in Vietnam and as refugees in the USA.

[Elena L. · Rating 4 out of 5]

[4.5/5 stars]

This is the memoir of Susan Lieu, a daughter of Vietnamese refugees whose mother dies after a plastic surgery goes wrong.

From fleeing Vietnam War to owning two nail salons, this memoir is nothing short of inspiring. With her mother's death, a part of her family died together and they have been quiet about this incident. However, in a relentless search for answers, Lieu has to relive the pain of the past, of anger, shame and avenge about her mother's death, victim of classism and racism. Lieu rawly dissects intergenerational trauma, immigration, pursuing dream, mental illness and obsession about body image throughout the book.

While grieving, Lieu navigates through the family's story - memories are unburied and a shattered family is reunited. What I found the most precious is the fond family memories intertwined with food, making this a memoir that I would revisit for vulnerability and hope.

Emotionally laden, THE MANICURIST'S DAUGHTER is a journey of healing and forgiveness. A story that needed to be told.

[ I received an ARC from the publisher - Celadon books . All thoughts are my own ]

[Jean · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this book from Celadon Publishing for an unbiased review. I am a big fan of memoirs and biographies. I have read a few books by Vietnamese immigrates and have noted how hard they work to assimilate into our society. I found this to be a very emotional story as the author struggles to deal with the death of her mother when she was eleven years old. The story brings up a few issues such as people who prey up on the immigrate communities, the obsession to achieve beauty, and how children deal with death of a parent. The story is well written and easy to read. If you enjoy memoirs, you will enjoy this book.

The book is 305 pages. It is published by Celadon Books.

[CatReader · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is a hard memoir to review. Susan Lieu (b. ~1984) is a first generation Vietnamese-American woman whose mom, a manicure salon owner, Vietnamese immigrant, and mother of 4 (including Susan, the youngest) unfortunately passed away from complications of elective cosmetic surgery at the age of 38 in the mid-1990s.

Lieu was 11 years old when her mom passed, and as with any child who loses a parent at a young age, this event was devastating and far-rippling. Lieu's father eventually remarried, she lost touch with her mom's side of the family, and the family's finances suffered her dad didn't have the business spark and intuition that her late mom had. Lieu, unfortunately, still couldn't move on from this event even into her adulthood, spending years perseverating over legal action against the plastic surgeon who had operated on her mother. She kept accusing this surgeon of malpractice and negligence, but it's unclear to me whether this was actually proven -- she also revealed that her mom had significantly lied about her weight on surgical intake forms, claiming she was 110 lbs when she was actually more than 20% heavier at 140 lbs, which can affect medication dosing and anaesthesia. Lieu hated that this surgeon had advertised heavily to Vietnamese immigrants, but this really speaks more to the beauty culture overall; ultimately, though, undergoing cosmetic surgery is a personal aesthetic choice. In Lieu's mother's case, she had already undergone breast augmentation several years prior, and this time was undergoing rhinoplasty (a nose job) and abdominoplasty (a tummy tuck) as a consenting, decisional adult who was seeking the cosmetic enhancements these elective surgeries could provide. As surgical consent forms clearly state, the risks of any surgery, elective or not, include serious complications up to and including death.

Once further legal action and reputation smearing of this surgeon became nonviable (because the surgeon died), Lieu turned to writing, producing and starring in a one-woman theatrical performance about her mom's death where she acts the roles of her deceased mom, father, and siblings as a way to publicly process her grief while also airing her family's traumas. This struck me as in very bad taste, though it seems like her family was on board (eventually).

This whole memoir is doused in Main Character Syndrome. Generally all memoirs navel gaze to some extent, but this one in particular is glaring. Lieu seems to have a stereotypical youngest child desire for attention, as well as an aversion to bootstrapping and taking responsibility for her mistakes, wanting desperately to make them someone else's problem instead.

Further reading: Asian-American memoirs I would recommend
Beautiful Country by Qian Julie Wang
The Worlds I See: Curiosity, Exploration, and Discovery at the Dawn of AI by Fei-Fei Li
Missed Translations: Meeting the Immigrant Parents Who Raised Me by Sopan Deb
The Mango Tree: A Memoir of Fruit, Florida, and Felony by Annabelle Tometich
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner
All You Can Ever Know by Nicole Chung

My statistics:
Book 211 for 2025
Book 2137 cumulatively

[Miranda Summerset · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I am the manicurists' daughter."
5/5 STARS! When I read a memoir, this is what I want. I want it all, the good, the bad, & the ugly, even if it exposes painful truths, I want deep truths. This book was that! An inside look at what it is like to be the daughter of immigrants just trying to make it & live the American dream. The daughter who is the baby of 4 & who is sometimes swamped by her huge family, & just wants the emotional relationships with them to be better while also having that ideal clash with her Vietnamese culture. Susan took you not only into her mind, but her family & culture. You felt as if you knew them all in the end. Such an emotional rollercoaster, as you go on the hunt for answers with her about who her parents are, & who her mom really was. I feel we can all relate to losing someone, & learning about Susan's mom's death, was a true eye opener. How many of us actually know our parents, even our mothers & why they do what they do sometimes? This book is a must read, & I highly recommend!
Thank you publishers weekly for providing an arc copy for review.

[Shannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an emotionally raw and moving memoir of family and healing!!! I've seen this one getting a lot of buzz and it is for good reason! Excellent on audio read by the author herself and I highly recommend listening if you can and/or enjoy audiobooks!

The youngest daughter of two refugees, American Vietnamese author/artist Susan Lieu shares her journey dealing with her grief over her mother's tragic death from a plastic surgery gone wrong and the way she tries to comes to terms with her feelings about it, especially the way her mother's surgeon was never held accountable.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an early audio copy in exchange for my honest review!

[Kenzie | kenzienoelle.reads · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars. This is one of the best memoirs I’ve read in a long time.

Susan Lieu is the daughter of two Vietnamese refugees. Life in the states is far from easy but with her mother at the helm, her family opens multiple successful nail salons. However when Susan is 11, her mother dies from a botched tummy tuck leaving Susan with years and years of unanswered questions and a harsh ending to an already complicated relationship with her mother.

Oh my goodness, the vast emotions, stories, family dynamics and journeys within these pages. Lieu is such a gifted storyteller. We watch (read) her process not only her own life but the lives of her parents as they lived in Vietnam and eventually made the choice to leave following the war. From intergenerational trauma to body image to strained family relationships and medical malpractice, Lieu pulls no punches with her vulnerability.

The author perfectly wove her story, her family’s story, her rawness and her humor all while sharing the beauty of her Vietnamese language, food and heritage.

Thank you Celadon Books for the gifted book!

[Anh · Rating 2 out of 5]

I listened to the audiobook and the author reading out her relatives English in accented Vietnamese really took us back a few years in society lol


It was interesting in the first half and then it got repetitive with no progression in the story.

[Tiffany · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's a special feeling when you pick up a book at the exact right moment in your life, and this was one of those times for me. In Susan Lieu's memoir, she tells the story of her life and the way it was shaped by her mother's death, who died tragically after getting plastic surgery. Lieu was 10 when she died, and her death became a taboo subject for her large family of Vietnamese immigrants. I lost my mother when I was 7, and there was just so much I related to as the daughter of an immigrant and a child who never got to know my mother. There's so much about grief that is isolating and hard to wrap your head around as a kid, and I think Lieu did such a wonderful job in describing that. As she got older, her grief stayed and grew with her until it became too big for her to ignore. Reading about her pivot to becoming a performance artist and exploring her mother's life and death, as well as confronting her family members in the process, was a study in empathy and steps we have to take to move on. I'll be thinking about this one for a long time. Thanks to Celadon Books and NetGalley for the audio arc!

[Shelby (catching up on 2025 reviews) · Rating 5 out of 5]

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Thank you #partner @celadonbooks for my #gifted copy

The Manicurist's Daughter
Susan Lieu
Available now

Born to Vietnamese refugees, Susan grew up in and around her family's successful nail salons. At the age of eleven, she lost her mother to a botched tummy tuck, at the hands of a surgeon with a reputation for preying on Vietnamese women. Susan's life, and the life of her family, was irrevocably altered.

As an adult, Lieu is determined to uncover the uncomfortable answers to the questions she'd been forbidden to ask growing up: what was life like in Vietnam, what drove her mother to get plastic surgery, and why was the surgeon never held accountable?

In The Manicurists Daughter, Lieu explores the complexities of her relationship with her mother, her Vietnamese heritage, and the cultural and societal pressures that shaped her upbringing. At its core, this heartfelt memoir is about the emotional journey of loss and self-discovery, as well as the healing power of telling our stories.

[Amy ☾ · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was such a beautifully written memoir of the daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, the bond between daughter and a mother trying to make a better life for their family, and the dark consequences of beauty standards.

[Caitlin Dickinson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A heartbreakingly beautiful book. Susan Lieu so eloquently talks about how grief can keep you from the present, as you’re trying to make sense of the past - grief can make you unintentionally turn a blind eye on the love and growth which is happening to you currently. Would definitely recommend this book to most people 🤍

[Cynthia · Rating 3 out of 5]

I knew, prior to jumping into this one, that I would relate to the aspect of losing a mother at a young age. I had not expected to find other aspects of Susan’s childhood relatable, including the stifled processing she experienced after her mother’s death. Even regarding our adult paths, I saw some similarities. They definitely weren’t identical, but the driving forces of loneliness and a lack of familial support made sense to me, so her choices played a familiar tune. While I expected this book to hurt, the first half hit so much harder than I’d originally anticipated.

Of course, there was plenty of unfamiliar territory, as well. I learned a lot through Susan’s sharing of cultural and religious beliefs as a Vietnamese American growing up in a Buddhist family. It was interesting to examine the components that seem universal to grief, as well as the branches that were unique to Susan and her family.

While she did include small doses of humor that allowed me to absorb all facets of her personality, she also aptly conveyed the heartache, confusion, and frustration she felt after her mother died. The weight of these emotions were evident, but the heaviness was well balanced.

I found her journey to better comprehend her mother’s identity mostly intriguing, and the end result was beautiful, but there were times when I felt this book was a bit overly (and unnecessarily) detailed or downright repetitive. I think it contained a lot of filler that could have been filed down. The beginning of the book doesn’t suffer from this as much as the latter half did, and although I understand seeing significance in communicating every minute detail, her editor should have helped her be more succinct.

I don’t expect everyone to see the world as I do, so I didn’t have any issue with beliefs that don’t mirror my own until the very end of this memoir. I was saddened by what she shared regarding her shifted perspective on “let it go.” I felt it contradicted the path she’d just taken me down. I still firmly believe it is a harmful, dismissive statement, and I didn’t feel she showed me otherwise, despite concluding with this. Her memoir demonstrated how important it is to NOT let go. She conveyed how painful her family’s smothered emotions surrounding her mother’s death had been, and how letting herself feel, creatively express, and finally talk more candidly with her family had helped her. Being told to “let it go” is, as she initially believed, a denial, and while I understand wanting a more inspirational tone to sign off with, I am dismayed by what felt to me like the rotting limb of toxic positivity.

Regardless, Susan’s memoir was often deeply touching. I’m happy that she found ways to process her grief, and that her methods also led to some healing within her family. Her changing perspective on her parents did make me consider my own parents (my father also died when I was young, although I was no longer a child), and it made me wonder more about their histories, which I know so little of. I felt inspired by Susan’s efforts. I’d like to try to better understand who my own parents were, and how their own experiences shaped them.

3.5 stars

I am immensely grateful to BookishFirst, Celadon Books, and Macmillan Audio for my copies. All opinions are my own.

[Nancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Susan Lieu’s mother was a powerhouse. Her journey was remarkable. An ethnic Chinese in Vietnam, she was one of the ‘boat people’ fleeing to a refugee camp. Gaining entry to America, her college degree worthless, she grew a successful nail salon business. Her husband had his own trauma, orphaned and surviving war and their shared journey as refugees. She sponsored family who helped in the salon.

Susan was the youngest of the family, the only one born in America. All her life she struggled to juggle parental expectations and her own needs, dealing with mental health issues, and learning to disassociate from her own body, eating what her mother demanded while being criticized for her weight.

Susan’s mother died when she was eleven from complications of a tummy tuck performed by an unscrupulous doctor. Her entire family shut down any conversation about the death. But Susan needed to understand her mother and what had happened. She needed to find the affirmation that was missing from her childhood.

Her journey took her into a cult and to mediums and to Vietnam. She achieved her MBA to meet her father’s expectations, but left it behind to pursue her one woman show telling her story. But in the end, Susan found the enlightenment she sought and came to terms with her family and herself.

What emerges is an understanding of intergenerational trauma, how war and the refugee experience makes people hard and sealed off, and the way a woman’s self image impacts her view of her daughters and negatively forms their own self image.

Food is an important theme in the book, the center of family life and remembering their tradition and heritage.

“All the women were too ashamed of their bodies. If I really wanted to break the cycle of intergenerational trauma, I had to walk into the fire. It was time I stood up for myself,” Lieu writes.

I surely understood this. My own mother struggled with body image. She was teased as a teenager for being a little overweight, and then when psoriasis appeared, she surely didn’t feel loveable. After marriage and pregnancies, she developed psoriatic arthritis that slowly deformed her joints over the years. I was overweight as a child. Mom said I would look like Disney’s Sleeping Beauty–if I lost weight. I grew up with a negative self image. When I married, I did lose weight by severely limiting my calories. Still, Mom mentioned “if only” and in my late twenties I finally spoke up, saying that I liked myself. That night, she came to me in tears, realizing that she had behaved the way her own mother had, and apologized.

Lieu discovered that we can change, that we can leave our trauma behind. That we can forgive by understanding the trauma others have experienced. It is all a part of growing up and becoming fully realized adults. “Change your thought, you can change your future,” a monk told Lieu.

Thanks to the publisher for a free book.