American Han: A Novel

by Lisa Lee

“American Han shook me to my core. Gutting in its quietest moments and heartbreakingly familiar in its loudest conflicts, this book is a gripping portrait of the cost of assimilation into American life."
—Muriel Leung, Lambda award-winning author of How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster

Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area in the 1980s, Jane Kim and her brother, Kevin, dutifully embodied the model minority myth as their parents both stellar tennis players and academically gifted, they worked hard to make their parents proud. Jane went on to law school. Kevin came close to becoming a professional tennis player. But where they started is nowhere near where they have ended Jane has stopped going to her law school classes, and Kevin, now a policeman, has become increasingly distant. Their parents, each on their own path toward the elusive American Dream (their mother hell-bent on having the perfect house and the perfect family, their father obsessed with working his way up from one successful business to the next), don’t want to see the family unraveling. When Kevin goes missing, no one recognizes his absence as the warning sign it is until it erupts, forcing them all to come to terms with their past and present selves in a country that isn’t all it promised it would be. Both deeply serious and wickedly funny, American Han is a profound story about striving and assimilation, difficult love, and family fidelity. A searing portrait that challenges assumptions about the immigrant experience, Lisa Lee’s debut introduces a powerful new voice on the literary landscape.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Contemporary, Audiobook, Aapi, Family

272 pages, Kindle Edition

First published March 31, 2026

About the author

Lisa Lee is the author of AMERICAN HAN. She is the recipient of the Marianne Russo Emerging Writer Award from the Key West Literary Seminar, an Emerging Writer Fellowship from the Center for Fiction, and a Pushcart Prize. She has received additional fellowships and awards from Kundiman, Millay Arts, Hedgebrook, the Rona Jaffe Foundation, Tin House, Jentel Artist Residency, the Korea Foundation, and others. Her work has appeared in Ploughshares, VIDA, North American Review, Sycamore Review, Gulf Coast, and elsewhere. Lee holds an MFA from the University of Houston and a PhD in Creative Writing and Literature from the University of Southern California. She lives in Los Angeles.
www.hellolisalee.com
www.instagram.com/lisaleehello/

Reviews

[Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars rounded down for a book about Korean Americans adapting to the US. The first 120 pages(out of 288 pages) are a pretty tough slog. The author enclosed an explanatory note explaining the word "han" in the title. There is no direct English equivalent, signifying the inescapable sorrow and rage from repeated experiences of oppression. Han is very much present in the relationship between the narrator, Jane Kim, and her mother. Her mother is needy, and at the same time, abusive. She wants Jane to visit her more often, and then tells her that she is leaving everything to Jane's brother, Kevin. This has to do with a Korean tradition that sons take care of their parents, whereas daughters become part of their husband's family. Her mother does this even though Jane is not married. Her mother wants her to get married and provide her with grandchildren.
Kevin internalizes his parents verbal abuse, but they don't see his rage building up. Jane does see it, but she and her brother have grown apart. Kevin is also distant from his parents.
If you can get past the first 120 pages, the book improves, with insights about Korean culture and traditions.
Some quotes:
"Korean mothers like mine had to put down their own daughters, make us know our place, make sure that we didn't have too much confidence, never, ever compliment us, otherwise a Korean mother was a bad mother."
One year old baby tradition: "On a separate table, a collection of objects for the doljabi ceremony: a long piece of string, a pencil, a book, a golf ball, a stethoscope, a paintbrush, a peach, a twenty-dollar bill, a music box. In the fortune telling ritual, the one year old baby reaches for an object, and the first one they choose predicts what they'll have luck with in the future."
meanings:
thread-long life
pencil and book-intellectual
ball-athlete
Stethoscope-doctor
Paintbrush-artist
Music box-musician
Thank You Lisa Lee and Hachette/Algonquin books for sending me this book. The explanatory letter from Lisa Lee on han and Korean assimilation into America was also very helpful.

Cross posted on Storygraph, BookBub. and Amazon

[Amy]

NO: A book I borrowed from the library to try before I buy (tired buying hundreds books and hating half)

I do not rate these “tested”
books. This is really for me. I will not be buying, reading borrowing this book.

I read first ch or more -first 10-100 pages skim around at times. I read many of my GR friend’s reviews. This is what I did and didn’t like:

Rated kinda low. Mf don’t like it much. I thought it was by Lisa See not Lisa Lee lol.

Anyway the writing seems ok but people complain the ch are terrible. Not just unlikable (which I don’t mind) but flat & one dimensional. It’s at my library maybe I’ll read it later idk 🤷‍♀️.

[timeforthecheck · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to Algonquin via NetGalley for the ARC.

American Han is such an important book, and it was such a hard read. For a book that has less than 250 pages, it packs a punch.

First, I’m not Korean, so it was really fascinating to read their way of things. And how that changes with a generation that’s American born. I don’t want to speak on things that I don’t feel aren’t my place, but I will say, that reading from different backgrounds is important.

Second, none of these characters are likable. But is it their fault? When society dictates who and what you are. When a girl or woman is lesser than? (The girl/woman thing comes up A LOT, and while I know this is true, it felt repetitive. I say this as a woman) What about running away from a tyrannical government to survive? The author did a fantastic job of peeling away layers to show how human and flawed they really are, but also, what makes them (and us) that way.

Third, the gaslighting, manipulation, emotional and physical abuse really takes the stage from page 1. And this is what really stuck out for me and unfortunately I related to. It’s frustrating to read on paper, and you just want to tell Jane to just go no contact. Again, this is so well done that I thought the author pulled my childhood memories from me. Turns out, they all have the same playbook.

Finally, the end of the book. I don’t think it stuck the landing. It felt…incomplete? Maybe that’s by design because none of them actually worked through their issues. And, again, I know this is the American justice system, but really, Kevin just gets to continue?!?

I will absolutely read more from Lisa Lee! Would recommend this book.

[Dianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

Well written and an interesting look at Korean culture and family dynamics, but it left me cold. The narrator and her brother felt a little bloodless, like a sketch in pencil vs. in color. Don’t know how to describe it, but the characters lacked the emotional tug I was expecting.

Nevertheless, some perceptive insights, especially with the mother-daughter dynamics.

[Allie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read this if you’re into books that are deep dives into flawed characters. This book explores the 4 family members of the Kim family all through the lens of the youngest daughter. It also very much illustrates a South Korean immigrant family’s experiences at the turn of the century.

There is a small bit of dry humor. It’s overall very dry. The characters are incredibly unlikable, though with tiny glimpses of compassion or care. But overall, I didn’t enjoy reading about the abuse, insults, and disfunction that felt very real and without purpose and just accepted.

There was some really nice prose. Some really nice and deep thoughts and conclusions throughout. But it was reflective and thoughtful to the point where there wasn’t much plot and it felt quite slow. Overall, not for me.

Thank you for the ARC, Netgalley and Algonquin Books!

[Ellen Ross · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a perfect look at imperfect people in an imperfect world in my eyes. Jane and Kevin are very relatable characters especially when it comes to the relationship they have as siblings. With heavy themes of race issues, police brutality, and chasing the American dream I was full of emotions as I read. There are certainly some humorous moments but a lot of takeaways that make you reflect on our world and our lives. The plot build up is palpable and when tragedy strikes I gasped and could not put this book down till I finished it. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

[Taury · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trigger Warnings:
Racism
Violence
Immigration trauma
Poverty
Discrimination
Police brutality
Identity struggles

American Han by Lisa Lee takes place primarily in modern-day Houston and follows a Chinese American family navigating identity, belonging, survival, and generational expectations while trying to build a life in America. The novel explores what it means to exist between cultures and how the “American Dream” can look very different depending on who is chasing it. Through family relationships, hardship, and personal ambition, the story digs into immigration, race, assimilation, and the emotional cost of trying to belong in a country that does not always fully accept you.

[Holly R W]

DNF

While the author's sharp writing style drew me in, the book is about an abusive family. It is not a subject I care to read about. This is the author's debut novel. I will be interested in what she writes next.

[Stephanie Carlson · Rating 3 out of 5]

**My thanks to Algonquin Books for providing me with an advanced review copy via NetGalley**

3.5 stars

This debut novel reads like a memoir, which I think will enthrall anyone who loves thoughtful, reflective fiction. For me, it was a little too much navel-gazing.

I really enjoyed the reflection on growing up Asian-American in a majority-white space, as well as the pressures put upon the children of immigrant parents or parents with unfulfilled dreams. I just wish I had gotten to see the protagonist, Jane, explore or develop what actually interests and drives her in adulthood as well as muse on the complexities of her past. She reflects on having spent most of her life drifting and bowing to the wishes or preferences of her parents and brother (Kevin), and her decision to leave law school and pursue a Ph.D. in American Studies should feel like a departure from that norm—but as she never spends time looking forward to the program with excitement, or telling the reader about her specific research interests and goals for the program, it doesn’t feel like she’s changed all that much, just drifting into another thing she’s ‘good at’ (school) in order to avoid joining the ranks of ‘adulthood’ with all the unhappy and unfulfilled adults around her.

The blurb led me to believe that the narrative would be a little more plot-heavy, with Kevin’s disappearance taking the forefront in the story; however, this proved to be an exaggeration as Kevin doesn’t disappear at all, merely stops coming to family events for a few months. He does, however, have a powerful moment of crisis in which his own feelings of disillusionment and resentment explode outward, the resonances of which are a highlight of the story.

[Sam Cheng · Rating 2 out of 5]

Lee’s novel is intensely commentary-heavy from Jane, our main character, and the narrator’s perspectives. Both present-day and flashback timelines tell readers about Jane’s relationship with her mom, dad, and older brother Kevin. Currently, the family faces a challenging year filled with changes: Jane’s parents separate, her mom’s midlife crisis moves her to SF, her father begins work as a truck driver, and Jane prepares for her impending move to NY to pursue law. Lee takes turns building out Jane’s relationships with her parents and brother, again, through explanatory internal telling.

Lee’s familiar story resonates with themes such as familial piety, the relationship between mothers and daughters, and adult children’s agency. The win about stories about the Korean diaspora is that we craved main characters like Jane, a second-generation Korean girl, when growing up. For example, contextualizing Jane’s mom’s younger life helps explain, though doesn’t excuse, why she emotionally abuses her daughter. Perhaps delivering this narrative in a different form (and one that is lighter on Jane’s explanations) would have helped with the sense of repetition. Nearing the end of American Han, the insertion of Kevin’s side of his so-called privileged childhood with the pressures of being the eldest child and a son suggests that Jane’s narration may not be reliable. This abrupt expanding perspectivalism for readers also seems well-trodden.

My thanks to Algonquin Books and NetGalley for an ARC.

[Lauren Fanella · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5⭐️

[Fran Hawthorne · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book reaches in multiple directions--to be The Korean-American Novel; to be a novel about a daughter's relationship with her mother, and with her father, and with her brother; to be (yet another) Millennial Novel about the ennui of going to college en route to a bourgeois life.

So, you could say that author Lisa Lee tries too much. Yet, in some ways, she also doesn't try hard and far enough.

Jane Kim, the narrator, is in her last year of law school in San Francisco as the novel begins, but she can't be bothered to go to class because her Korean immigrant parents were the ones pushing her to become a lawyer (or marry a rich lawyer) in the first place. She's always been overachieving yet never good enough. From childhood on, she was both a concert-level pianist AND a champion tennis player without even trying--but her parents put all their dreams (and inheritance) solely on her underachieving older brother, Kevin.

Wonderful bits of originality sometimes peek through the cliches. Jane's father has owned one small business after another in order to achieve the American Dream of house in the suburbs, new cars, country club, top universities for his children -- but his own dream is really to be a long-haul truck driver. Her Tiger Mother leaves her father in order to flip real estate in San Francisco. Kevin becomes a cop.

There were moments when Jane sees her parents as real people and feels shards of what might be love. A single memory of a drive with Kevin was so beautiful that it hurt.

As well, I like the way the narrative curls and recurls in on itself (though I know that some readers won't). This constant going around in time evokes how Jane needs to dig through buried history.

But ultimately, Jane's arc relies too much on the basic cliche: Overachieving second-generation Asian American must break free of her sexist Tiger parents' demands.

[BookNightOwl · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this. It was from the point of view of a Korean American and how much wait is put on their shoulders to be the best in everything you do. I enjoyed the stories and learning about their relationships as a daughter and sister. I just wanted it to be a little longer I enjoyed it so much.

[Hailey · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is very complex. In all honesty, I was half way in and thought it wasn’t bad and it wasn’t great. I am so glad I pushed through the steady build of this perspective driven (instead of plot driven) book. We get glimpses of a rise in conflict early in the book, but the author soon moves on and levels out. As the book continues, the conflicts seem to linger a little longer, growing in impact and importance to the characters personalities.

The characters in the book are shaped by the injustices they’ve faced and passed down generationally. We see the absolute worst moments of a family, all of them causing each other pain, several in which the narrator is put into situations where she faces unjust actions from her own family. This book explores the dynamics and pressures of growing up seen as and feeling “different.” The challenges of parents who immigrated and feeling their shame for who they are, a community that doesn’t understand them and the drive to prove everyone wrong. This is interwoven with the crippling desire to create and survive the “American Dream” and constantly wanting the next best thing. All of this causing unresolved insecurities, which is where this book really unfolds.

A couple questions that kept coming to mind for me; can, and should, you still love people who have caused you so much pain? Does being family change this answer?

I appreciate this book for what it is, we need to read books that make us uncomfortable, acknowledge privilege and ground us. I’m going to be reflecting about this book for a while.

Thank you NetGalley, Algonquin Books and Lisa Lee for an advanced copy of this book.

[Bill Silva · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another dysfunctional family novel…but it’s essentially plotless, and is more a four-person character study with a few dramatic moments thrown in to provide a semblance of a story. It’s pretty heavy going—these are all deeply scarred, unhappy people, who treat each other poorly (even violently). Even though the narrator finds her explanations in her parents’ past, their family and cultural heritage, their outsider status as Korean immigrants and Korean-Americans, and the unfair expectations and contradictions imposed upon them by white society, most of their wounds seem to me to be self-inflicted. There are some compelling ideas and issues explored here…and some really well done set pieces and vignettes…but this was not an easy read.

[Onyinyechukwu · Rating 2 out of 5]

2 stars. I was immediately enthralled by the description of this book, the immigrant experience means a lot to me and I particularly enjoy complex family dynamics. I spent the first 60% of this waiting for something to happen. Just waiting and waiting and waiting. Then when something kind of did happen, I spent the last 40% wondering what I was supposed to take away. I could not really find anything that resonated with me. It felt for me like a book that had so much to say but struggled to say it. USC Alum though #FightOn✌🏾

Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC!

[Mirae · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was drawn to this fine novel because it's set in the SF Bay Area, my home. Many of the streets and locations described are quite familiar to me, which made it fascinating. The main character tells a coming of age story as her Korean parents struggle to assimilate in California in the 80's and 90's. There are several edifying and compelling sections on the history of Korea, the experiences of Korean immigrants in America, and the ways that these histories have shaped her own. She offers incisive commentary on race, class and gender in contemporary American life.

I know the saying goes that every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. Be that as it may, I believe that many people who were assigned a scapegoat role in their families will resonate with the narrator's thoughts and feelings. She takes much of the responsibility for her own (relatively minor) less-than-stellar behavior, which I appreciated. Her narration was absorbing, with compassion and psychological depth. I look forward to reading more from this author.

[Olga Maxwell · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was probably the best book I had read so far this year. It is a true literary masterpiece and I don’t know how anyone can rate it less than 5 stars. I connected with this book starting with the first page and I am not Korean. It is beautifully and cleverly written. 10/10 would recommend. I will be buying this book in print for my personal collection.

[Shayla Scott · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 rating! The synopsis for this was a bit misleading. This is a story about a Korean family that has to find its way in America with the myth of the Model Minority. The story was told through the eyes of the youngest child Jane. Each family member deals with their own set of issues (especially Kevin, he has such a punchable personality). Everyone in this book was grossly unlikeable and toxic to each other and people around them. This was a solid read nevertheless.

[Chelsea]

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for an advanced reader copy

American Han by Lisa Lee is a first person-POV literary novel exploring two generations of a Korean-American family up to 2002 and how it all accumulates in violence. Jane is a first generation Korean-American on the verge of graduating law school whose parents are going through a divorce when her brother Kevin’s actions shake their world up.

I could connect a lot to the section featuring Jane’s mother, as my own family has also fairly recently left their country of origin to come to America to find wealth after their country was torn apart by war. Her frustration and unhappiness as she realizes Korea is not only modernizing, but becoming a global power while her memories still stay the same was deeply relatable to me. There’s a lot of very poignant things to explore in how our understanding of our home countries are frozen in time and the way that impacts how we talk about it with others.

Kevin’s personality and history of anger is slowly peeled back as Jane thinks about the way their parents raised them individually and together. Jane doesn’t connect the dots for the reader,but it is fairly obvious that how her parents treated Kevin and how they talked about the sexes and the ways they treated others as well as the racism Jane and Kevin faced absolutely did play a part. I thought it was very bold of Lisa Lee to go this direction because making those links in a story takes a lot of work and she did it very well.

I am absolutely going to be reading Lisa Lee’s next book because this spoke to me a lot while also forcing me to draw my own conclusions.

I would recommend this to fans of books exploring immigration and the messier sides of it

[Patty Ramirez · Rating 4 out of 5]

What I mostly liked about this book is the deep look that See’s gives us on these characters before Kevin’s situation occurs.

If you love stories about dysfunctional families, this story will not disappoint.

Thank you to Algonquin and the author for providing a free copy of this book through NetGalley.

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lisa Lee presents a thoughtful and often compelling exploration of the quiet fractures within an immigrant family trying to reconcile inherited expectations with the realities of life in America. Set largely in Northern California, the novel follows the Kim family as each member grapples with deeply personal desires that clash with traditional Korean definitions of success. The novel engages meaningfully with the immigrant experience, especially the persistent sense of not fully belonging. Lee does not shy away from depicting the racism embedded in American society, but she avoids making it the sole explanatory force behind the family’s struggles. Instead, she presents a more complex interplay between external pressures and internalized cultural norms.

She structures the narrative around four distinct yet interconnected perspectives, allowing each character’s dissatisfaction to emerge with clarity and emotional weight. The father, materially successful through several small businesses, feels trapped by the very stability he has built. He longs instead for the freedom embodied by long-haul truckers and life on the open road. The mother, constrained by both marriage and suburban life, dreams of independence and a more self-directed existence in the San Francisco. Their son, Kevin, fails at both academics and athletics marking him as a disappointment within the family’s cultural framework. Instead, he finds unexpected fulfillment as a police officer—a choice that seems too contrived to be topical by facilitating the exploration of extreme police violence aimed at minorities existing today in America. Meanwhile, Jane, the daughter and narrator, appears to be the embodiment of a successful outcome by both Korean and American standards. She is soon to graduate from law school only to reject its promise in favor of a more uncertain academic path in New York.

One of the novel’s strengths lies in its nuanced treatment of success and failure. Lee effectively shows how rigid cultural expectations can distort self-perception, turning personal fulfillment into a kind of quiet rebellion. The sibling dynamic between Jane and Kevin is particularly well rendered, capturing both rivalry and mutual incomprehension without resorting to caricature. Similarly, the depiction of cultural misogyny—both overt and internalized—adds another layer of tension, especially in how it shapes the mother’s and Jane’s choices.

Where the novel falters slightly is in its resolution. After so carefully building a portrait of conflict, compromise, and unmet longing, the ending feels too neat. It seems as if Lee is eager to impose coherence and optimism where ambiguity might have been more truthful. This shift gives the conclusion a faintly didactic tone, undercutting some of the emotional authenticity that she so carefully established earlier.

Even so, “American Han” remains a perceptive and engaging novel. Lee’s characters are fully realized and believable, and her exploration of identity, ambition, and cultural tension resonates well beyond the specifics of the Kim family. This is a work that invites reflection on what it means to succeed—and at what cost—when one is caught between cultures.

[Stephanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This spectacular debut novel is narrated by Jane Kim, a Korean American, who, when the novel opens in 2002, is living in San Francisco, begrudgingly completing law school, and contending with her bullying, cruel, and chaos-making mother who had reluctantly immigrated to America in the 1960s. Jane is unable to look past her own pain — she experienced oppression and victimization as a young, Asian woman — to acknowledge how the world had abused her ambitious mother. Even when her mother expressed pride in Jane’s accomplishments, all Jane could see “was someone who’d held me back, put me down, controlled me, and now that I was going places, she wanted credit for my future of possibility.” To Jane, the only topics that she could discuss freely with her mother were “death and poo.”

Jane and her brother Kevin had grown up in Napa, California where they hadn’t seen another Korean until they were in fifth grade, and their peers compared them to the Asian caricatures featured in the media or tried not to see them at all. Being the best was important in the Kim family, and Jane was both a piano prodigy and a nationally ranked tennis player. Kevin lacked Jane’s natural talents, but had the fire to excel at tennis, but fire could only get him so far. Jane’s violent and tyrannical father supported the family — the private schools for Kevin, the tennis and piano lessons, the tutors and SAT prep, and the country club — through the grueling, tedious and unstable work of owning and operating a string of small businesses, including a Swensen’s where the entire family toiled. But no amount of money or social status would make the Kim’s less Asian.

Even with their awards and accolades, Jane recognized that they “weren’t necessarily impressive by the standards of certain Asian Americans,” and she quit both tennis and piano when she turned eighteen, pursuing her education. Kevin, who had been the soft, patient, and calm child, struggled to find purpose when his tennis career faltered. He married and became a police officer and uncharacteristically emulated the machismo of law enforcement. By 2002, their parents were separated, with their mother in pursuit of a home in San Francisco, which she was certain was the key to her financial stability, while their father was delighted to be a long-haul truck driver and see the country. Kevin and Jane were estranged, but were updated about each other through their parents. Jane recognized that Kevin was doing “baffling things,” that she believed were a product of “the self-critical thoughts, the abuse from our parents, the insults from people in our town that he took as truth, the bewildering cacophony of voices talking at him from all sides.” But, she never expected that Kevin would commit an act of shocking violence that would destroy the family’s hopes for the future that they had pinned on him.

Lee has crafted an absorbing novel about a Korean American family burdened by the weight of pursuing the American dream. She offers a blistering portrait of immigration, the limits of assimilation, and cultural expectations. Lee explores the inability to shed family baggage and history and pursue one’s own future and own identity. Although this is a novel about a Korean American family, it is universal in its depiction of how family shapes us, hurts us, but remains at the center of our lives. Thank you Algonquin Books and Net Galley for an advanced copy of this fabulous novel that reveals how each member of the Kim family struggles with the Korean notion of Han, which I understand is a deep and internalized sense of sorrow and injustice that remains unresolved and is endured.

[Nathania Calae · Rating 4 out of 5]

I took quite a while after finishing this novel to reflect on my experience while reading it and my opinions on the book as a whole. Similar to An American Marriage by Tayari Jones, I had to look up interviews with this author (which are few and far between, considering this book came out DAYS before I bought it lol) because I felt like there was a disconnect between my thoughts and the author's intentions.

Spoiler alert: there was! Obviously, researching author interviews is something that I can't do all the time because that would mean the author could explain the point of their book to me - and I would rate every book I read above a 4 star, but that's not real life and honestly - that's 90% false. The only reason I had done that with this book (and An American Marriage though we're not discussing that) is because I knew that I was missing something. I couldn't develop this review without truly understanding the intention vs. execution.

Now, there are so many things to discuss about this book, but I want to keep this brief - solely for the fact that my brain feels like it might pop from all of the circles I've ran through moments before writing this. I am not going to sit here and say this is a perfect book - there are many mistakes and quite frankly many things that I did not enjoy or did not feel convinced by - and yet I think it's one of the best books I've read this year.

The author set out to tackle the idea of the American Dream (or American Han, if you will) and she succeeded. The reason for the inciting incident isn't necessarily the point - it's about family and being Korean American and America's ability to tear down immigrants and their families in ways that are seemingly unnoticeable, but make so much sense when understood by a lived experience or just reading books like these OR by being a rather decent human being.

This review is already getting longer than I wanted, but this book set out to address the flaws in the American Dream (and the ways it is also a han) and I think that was the strongest part of this novel by far. Though, I think about how, for example, Percival Everett has a review on the back saying, "Lee makes us look one way while all sorts of stuff comes into focus around us." This is somewhat correct, but again I'm not fully convinced. I'm partial to agree with this comment because I wonder if it was intentional or something that just happened because everything was so disjointed. Each chapter has it's own 'big moment' I guess and I don't think they connect in the most fluid way, making it so we focus on one thing (the chapter/scene) and don't recognize the other points that arise as a result - but this is because they seemingly have no connection in the first place.

It seems like this is something that could only be answered by the author, so I hope more interviews come out with her so I can consume all of them. Regardless of my doubts with this novel though, I am genuinely so excited for her next work because this shows potential for something new. I also just admire her courage to write something that includes a topic (which is a spoiler that I cannot say) that is quite taboo following recent years. I enjoyed the brief commentary during that part and wished it was explored more, but again that wasn't really the icing on the cake - more like the baking soda or some other cake ingredient.

Alright, enough of my (hopefully coherent) ramblings - read this book if you want to think and think and think and have a book challenge you, both in concepts but also patience because man oh man is it slow-paced 😆

[Jennifer Dorr · Rating 4 out of 5]

I like this book so much more than I anticipated. When I first started reading I thought, "Oh, another version of The Joy Luck club...." I love Amy Tan, but no one can be her again. However, this book surprised me by going beyond generational differences in Asian-America families into expectations for sons and daughters that build misogyny and resentment, patriarchal voices that create anger in both men and women, police brutality, and a sense of longing caused by loss and generational trauma.
I found this much more similar to Interior Chinatown than The Joy Luck Club.

#the52bookclub2026 Prompt #52: Published in 2026

[Dodi · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've read several Asian books including specifically Korean ones, as American Han is. I can't pinpoint why, but I found this one wholly depressing. Jane and Kevin Kim, siblings, are growing up in the Napa Valley. Their parents constantly pressure them to achieve. The story flashes back to their childhoods and family life frequently. There is a Korean concept of han embodied in the Kim family's difficulties. It's a sort of regret over life's conditions. No one seems happy in this book, and I think that's what got to me. Oddly, it reminded me of the Tolstoy quote: "All happy families are alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

[T H · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 Rating

Good read that does a decent job of highlighting the challenges of growing up in America as an immigrant family. Sadly, ultimate crippling of the family members came as a result of each other’s pride, jealousy, bitterness, and envy.

Loved how the book made me connect with my own experiences while growing up. Also made me thankful that Korean culture is now viewed as somewhat of a privilege as Korean music, tv shows, and movies are embraced positively by many generations and race today. 🥺❤️

One miss was the audiobook should have been read by someone who can at least pronounce the Korean words well. Kind of defeated the purpose of this book. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[Tracy Pollan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a well written book about a Korean American family. I really enjoyed learning about the Korean culture and the family dynamics. My one issue was I definitely predicted what was going to happen and felt it was a little predictable. When a gun is introduced in the 2nd act…..

[Margaret · Rating 3 out of 5]

nyt book review March 2026

[Brice Montgomery · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thanks to NetGalley & Algonquin Books for the ARC!

Lisa Lee’s American Han is a tender and heartbreaking debut novel that grieves the quiet violence of immigrant trauma.

Years ago, in an essay that coincidentally shares a name with this book, E.J. Koh described han as “not only a suffering but a suffering that is avoidable and is not avoided, a suffering that breaks us and need not break us.”

It’s a difficult concept to wrap one’s mind around, but that definition may help readers understand the competing narratives that shape Lee’s story of a family that seemingly exists at its own expense. Jane Kim, our protagonist and narrator, leads us through the unresolved pain of her three family members—her mother places her entire identity in her children’s success; her father flaunts his wealth but it’s never enough; her brother redirects his insecurities into misogyny and an obsession with guns. In the desperation of reaching for identity, each character claws at anybody nearby, and that’s almost always each other. When the characters surrender to volatility, it almost makes sense—the momentum serves as evidence that injustice and trauma are leading somewhere or that they "mean" something. To use Koh’s language, the family chooses to let the suffering break them because anything less would suggest the pain isn’t real.

Lee is such a focused and generous writer, and she demonstrates a powerful restraint in her prose. We learn so much about these characters by what goes unsaid and how they choose to puncture awkward silences. The parents repeat themselves ad infinitum as if that will make their words carry more weight. The children internalize and lash out at each other. Lee depicts four grieving people who are so forced to live in the immediacy of each moment that they lose sight of how they add up. In one scene, a character points a gun at his friend in anger and jokes about it afterwards, completely unaware that he’s crossed a threshold into some defining cruelty. In another, Jane’s father insults someone who innocuously asks how expensive the family camper was, and in an effort to prove a point, spends the next several minutes struggling to get said camper out of the parking lot. While readers might think that it’s objectively irrational behavior, Lee gently draws their attention to how one innocent question about money bears the weight of every time it was asked maliciously—every time the implication was that Mr. Kim didn’t deserve his wealth.

American Han is uniquely sympathetic in its understanding of how these small anecdotes accumulate symbolism—how they are re-narrativized by each individual—and I was struck by Lee’s ability to depict cruelty as distinct from evil. Certain characters commit heinous acts, but we ache for them. They aren’t innocent. They are accountable for their actions. But they have also lived lives full of experiences that contorted their basic desire for respect into something ugly. The suffering feels simultaneously avoidable and inevitable because the pain has to go somewhere.

I recognize that I’m skirting around specifics, but Lisa Lee has so carefully constructed the book around its domino-effect ending that most details feel like spoilers. Suffice it to say, I think this is one of the most emotionally resonant pieces of fiction I’ve read in quite some time, and it’s all the more impressive that this is Lee’s debut. She writes with such security—such intentionality—in her authorial voice, and I’m glad that she chose such an important topic for her first book. I would highly recommend American Han to everybody who is tempted to romanticize “the immigrant experience,” or to anybody who struggles to pinpoint why family just hurts sometimes.