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The Woo-Woo: How I Survived Ice Hockey, Drug Raids, Demons, and My Crazy Chinese Family
In this jaw-dropping, darkly comedic memoir, a young woman comes of age in a dysfunctional Asian family whose members blamed their woes on ghosts and demons when in fact they should have been on anti-psychotic meds.
Lindsay Wong grew up with a paranoid schizophrenic grandmother and a mother who was deeply afraid of the "woo-woo"--Chinese ghosts who come to visit in times of personal turmoil. From a young age, she witnessed the woo-woo's sinister effects; at the age of six, she found herself living in the food court of her suburban mall, which her mother saw as a safe haven because they could hide there from dead people, and on a camping trip, her mother tried to light Lindsay's foot on fire to rid her of the woo-woo.
The eccentricities take a dark turn, however, when her aunt, suffering from a psychotic breakdown, holds the city of Vancouver hostage for eight hours when she threatens to jump off a bridge. And when Lindsay herself starts to experience symptoms of the woo-woo herself, she wonders whether she will suffer the same fate as her family.
On one hand a witty and touching memoir about the Asian immigrant experience, and on the other a harrowing and honest depiction of the vagaries of mental illness, The Woo-Woo is a gut-wrenching and beguiling manual for surviving family, and oneself.
Lindsay Wong grew up with a paranoid schizophrenic grandmother and a mother who was deeply afraid of the "woo-woo"--Chinese ghosts who come to visit in times of personal turmoil. From a young age, she witnessed the woo-woo's sinister effects; at the age of six, she found herself living in the food court of her suburban mall, which her mother saw as a safe haven because they could hide there from dead people, and on a camping trip, her mother tried to light Lindsay's foot on fire to rid her of the woo-woo.
The eccentricities take a dark turn, however, when her aunt, suffering from a psychotic breakdown, holds the city of Vancouver hostage for eight hours when she threatens to jump off a bridge. And when Lindsay herself starts to experience symptoms of the woo-woo herself, she wonders whether she will suffer the same fate as her family.
On one hand a witty and touching memoir about the Asian immigrant experience, and on the other a harrowing and honest depiction of the vagaries of mental illness, The Woo-Woo is a gut-wrenching and beguiling manual for surviving family, and oneself.
304 pages, Paperback
First published October 30, 2018
133 people are currently reading
2197 people want to read
About the author
Lindsay Wong
5 books142 followersLindsay Wong holds a BFA in Creative Writing from The University of British Columbia and a MFA in Literary Nonfiction from Columbia University in New York City.
Wong has been awarded fellowships and residencies at The Kimmel-Harding Nelson Center in Nebraska City, Caldera Arts in Oregon, and The Studios of Key West, among others. Currently, she is writer-in-residence at The John Howard Society and The Community Arts Council of Vancouver.
Wong has been awarded fellowships and residencies at The Kimmel-Harding Nelson Center in Nebraska City, Caldera Arts in Oregon, and The Studios of Key West, among others. Currently, she is writer-in-residence at The John Howard Society and The Community Arts Council of Vancouver.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 437 reviews
April 11, 2019
((2.5)) I feel bad but I just didn’t really like this book. The first 100 pages I was pretty into it and enjoyed the authors writing and humorous way of recalling her childhood but after that it became a chore to get through. She had a great story to tell but I felt like it became just really repetitive and boring? She was very distanced from everything and I realize in real life there isn’t always a nice clean happy ending tying things up but I would have appreciated some more personal growth or reflection at the end of the book? Or at the very least a deeper discussion about mental health?
January 12, 2019
I started laughing. I couldn't stop giggling because I wasn't what my family termed Woo-Woo: I was only medically damaged – the spirits that have plagued my Chinese family for years be damned. Thank God. I was a freak with terrible, mutinous genes, but at least I was not turning into my permanently sad mother, my suicidal auntie Beautiful One, or my maternal grandmother, Poh-Poh.
When author Lindsay Wong was a twenty-one-year-old MFA student at Columbia University, she finally received a diagnosis for the vertigo/hallucinations/fatigue that had been plaguing her for years: Migraine-Associated Vestibulopathy. Despite learning that she had a chronic debilitating neurological disorder (which her doctor warned would likely prevent her from reading or writing for the rest of her life), Wong was relieved that she could now prove that she wasn't suffering from “Woo-Woo”: the ghosts that her Chinese-Canadian family blamed for every disappointment, instance of bad luck, or psychological disorder that seemed to haunt their clan. After introducing her story in this way in her memoir The Woo-Woo, Wong then goes on to describe her childhood growing up in the affluent Westwood Plateau neighbourhood of what I assume to be Richmond, B.C.; nicknamed “The Poteau” for all of the grow-ops and meth labs run out of neighbouring McMansions. And what a miserable childhood it sounds like: Her mother had undiagnosed psychological problems, which caused her to act in irrational and dangerous ways, and her emotionally distant father only interacted with his children to demand perfection at school and piano and sports; usually referring to his eldest daughter, Lindsay, as Fatty or The Retard. Lindsay herself learned to become emotionally walled off (both of her parents believed that crying would “let the ghosts in” and Lindsay did everything she could to avoid sporadic “exorcisms”, which might even involve lighting her on fire), and she became a binge eater, a bully at school, and a terrible friend and sister (she has been estranged from both of her siblings for years, and just recently reconnected with her brother). While this book is described as “darkly comic”, I really just found it all kind of sad – made more sad by Wong's emotionally distant tone. I'm quoting at length to give a sense of that:
Moaning like an undead cartoon monster, my mother fed us candy for breakfast, lunch, snack, and dinner but would forget to brush our hair and did not scold us for not cleaning our yellow-spattered teeth. In our family, a mother was someone who made sure her children were never hungry, and she tried as much as she mentally could. But at that point, fed up with our life in the court, I saw that my mother had been born with a heart the size of one of my doll's shoes and would have benefited from some family downsizing – like maybe if it were only me.
Besides, even though I was only six going on seven, I didn't think I had ever been a baby or a toddler because of the famous Wong family procreation myth, delivered with the also famous Wong half-funny-half-cruel-all-too-confusing-to-untangle wit, which explained that my parents had fished me out of a downtown Dumpster.
“That's why you're garbage,” my father would explain, boasting that my origin story was extraordinarily funny. “All garbage have low IQ. Not like Daddy at all. I'm very, very smart because I'm from library.”
“Then why you get me from Dumpster?” I had asked once after starting elementary school, speaking in a churlish, babyish Chinglish. Being sensitive yet spacey, I took his every word at hurtful, no-bullshit face value.
“It's free,” my father declared, sounding sombre. “You think we want to pay money for you? Mommy and I know how to save money on unimportant things.”
“Why I not important?” I said, sad and a bit resentful.
“Because you are from garbage.”
That was my father's typical response, a robotic, jokey, unhelpful statement that drove my mother absolutely batshit; it was characteristic of him to carelessly wave a hemorrhaging red cape at a rabid bull, for my mother did not understand humour or indirectness. How they met and married is still a complete mystery to me. It was never once spoken about in our family and deemed irrelevant and irritating as small talk.
“I found your Mommy in garbage can,” my father joked when I asked.
“What she doing there?” I said.
“Just like you, no one want her. Like Mommy, like daughter.”
Near the end of the book, Wong writes, “No one would ever believe me if I told them about all the wondrous and terrible and fantastical things that had happened to me”, yet this is that story: bizarre coincidences, family members who make the national news, actually suffering a neurological disorder after a lifetime of being told by superstitious parents that she was weak-minded and prone to Woo-Woo possession. But it's also a book about abuse and the cloistering effects of an immigrant community – neither the kids nor the adults thrived in this large extended family, and no one on the outside seemed to intervene; and I found the whole thing sad. Based on her diagnosis, it seems heroic that Wong completed her MFA in Creative Nonfiction – but now that her family's story is told, I wonder what other stories she has; wonder what tone she would bring to topics that don't have the power to hurt her.
May 5, 2019
As a fellow Asian Vancouverite who comes from a large and very close extended Asian family, I mildly enjoyed this memoir.
The writing is crude, salty and brash, quite unlike any of the other books that are shortlisted for Canada Reads 2019; often I questioned if I was laughing because it was funny, or because the most callous uses of profanity and verbal abuse (the norm in this family) were being spouted so flippantly between the characters. Then again, who am I to judge the author's recollections of verbal exchanges between her and her family members.
My major issue with this book is that it is fairly one-note, with characters well-defined, but under developed. Coming from a large and often highly emotionally charged Asian family, I understand that there are the words that are actually uttered, and there is also the underlying and unspoken subtext, the history and the emotion that infuses the conversation and the silences between them. I wanted to understand more of that subtext, so that I could better understand the journey this family takes together while dealing with multiple cases of mental illness.
Towards the end of the book, there is a sequence where Lindsay's father, at a crucial juncture, does something quite out of character, which she recognizes right away and is not quite sure how to interpret it. I loved that sequence, but I felt it was a little too late, as if a caricature had instantly transformed into a real person. I was disappointed that I wasn't given the opportunity to learn more about this person and his complicated relationship with his daughter in the preceding two hundred pages.
The writing is crude, salty and brash, quite unlike any of the other books that are shortlisted for Canada Reads 2019; often I questioned if I was laughing because it was funny, or because the most callous uses of profanity and verbal abuse (the norm in this family) were being spouted so flippantly between the characters. Then again, who am I to judge the author's recollections of verbal exchanges between her and her family members.
My major issue with this book is that it is fairly one-note, with characters well-defined, but under developed. Coming from a large and often highly emotionally charged Asian family, I understand that there are the words that are actually uttered, and there is also the underlying and unspoken subtext, the history and the emotion that infuses the conversation and the silences between them. I wanted to understand more of that subtext, so that I could better understand the journey this family takes together while dealing with multiple cases of mental illness.
Towards the end of the book, there is a sequence where Lindsay's father, at a crucial juncture, does something quite out of character, which she recognizes right away and is not quite sure how to interpret it. I loved that sequence, but I felt it was a little too late, as if a caricature had instantly transformed into a real person. I was disappointed that I wasn't given the opportunity to learn more about this person and his complicated relationship with his daughter in the preceding two hundred pages.
November 28, 2018
This is a great book about family, abuse, and mental health. It is a dark, dark, dark comedy. I think the subtitle (no doubt chosen by the publisher and not the author) makes the book seem like it is going to be more about hockey and drug raids than it is. I'm guessing the publisher wanted a subtitle that they thought might sell more copies. I hope it works because this is the kind of fantastic memoir that is hard to summarize in such a way that makes it sound as enjoyable as it was. Like if I were to describe the book, I would call it a dark memoir about how mental illness is impacted by culture and vice versa. That doesn't sound like something you would want to read, but actually it is!
This book is definitely up there in the Top 10 best memoirs I've read, along with Angela's Ashes, The Glass Castle, Running with Scissors, and Lucky. It is an unforgettable book about a girl who grew up without any of the emotional and physical kindnesses that we assume children will receive from their parents, but instead with physical and verbal abuse and emotional and intellectual neglect, and yet the author figures out—surely, but very slowly—how to become a person.
There is a great line from the book that I think sums it up quite perfectly:
"I could not have made up this anecdotal horror production if I tried." As someone who also came from a really rough background, this was the perfect description for how I feel about my own childhood!
This book is definitely up there in the Top 10 best memoirs I've read, along with Angela's Ashes, The Glass Castle, Running with Scissors, and Lucky. It is an unforgettable book about a girl who grew up without any of the emotional and physical kindnesses that we assume children will receive from their parents, but instead with physical and verbal abuse and emotional and intellectual neglect, and yet the author figures out—surely, but very slowly—how to become a person.
There is a great line from the book that I think sums it up quite perfectly:
"I could not have made up this anecdotal horror production if I tried." As someone who also came from a really rough background, this was the perfect description for how I feel about my own childhood!
February 15, 2019
Poorly written, mean, and vulgar. Also, although I'm sure there is a kernel of truth in this memoir, it reeked of exaggeration and hyperbole. I guess that's what was supposed to make it "witty"? It's a shame this book was selected for Canada Reads.
February 13, 2019
I found this book difficult to read. The subject matter was difficult, and, as much as I don't like to say this about an autobiographical work of non-fiction, the characters were very unlikeable and therefore made for hard reading. There were a lot of sections in this book where I could barely stand to read the dialogue between characters because they were so mean to one another.
One thing I would have liked more of in the book is how she managed to persevere and get a degree with such a debilitating illness. The narrator is obviously strong and resilient, but in this book, she paints herself, persistently, as angry and mean. A little more on her battle and subsequent success would have been interesting.
I only read this book because it is a Canada Reads contender.
One thing I would have liked more of in the book is how she managed to persevere and get a degree with such a debilitating illness. The narrator is obviously strong and resilient, but in this book, she paints herself, persistently, as angry and mean. A little more on her battle and subsequent success would have been interesting.
I only read this book because it is a Canada Reads contender.
January 10, 2025
Some stories are stranger than fiction. This one is a story of resilience, and survival, and can be overwhelming to read. Even the repetition hints at life inside the family.
There is a lot to process here — and this reading experience must be just a glimpse of what the author experienced in her upbringing.
There is a lot to process here — and this reading experience must be just a glimpse of what the author experienced in her upbringing.
January 3, 2019
The most beautiful and heartbreaking nuances in this memoir come from the narrator’s unflinching honesty.
I believe that some people take issue with the fact that the author dictates her experiences in a way that doesn’t always paint her as the heroine of her own story, but what they are missing is the beauty of that authenticity.
If you’re looking for a read that satisfies you in the predictable way that a novel does then this book will not suit you. Life is messy and brutal and real. It doesn’t always come to a climax and then spin lazily into perfectly wrapped up happily ever afters.
Lindsay Wong’s upbringings, her entire life, was existing on constant high alert. With the dial constantly up to ten the only point beyond that is breaking.
I love this book for its honesty and bravery. To tell the story of a familial history of undiagnosed mental illness and the effects it has generationally, is so very necessary and I commend the author for speaking her truth as she lives it, in the midst of it.
I believe that some people take issue with the fact that the author dictates her experiences in a way that doesn’t always paint her as the heroine of her own story, but what they are missing is the beauty of that authenticity.
If you’re looking for a read that satisfies you in the predictable way that a novel does then this book will not suit you. Life is messy and brutal and real. It doesn’t always come to a climax and then spin lazily into perfectly wrapped up happily ever afters.
Lindsay Wong’s upbringings, her entire life, was existing on constant high alert. With the dial constantly up to ten the only point beyond that is breaking.
I love this book for its honesty and bravery. To tell the story of a familial history of undiagnosed mental illness and the effects it has generationally, is so very necessary and I commend the author for speaking her truth as she lives it, in the midst of it.
March 10, 2019
I struggled to finish The Woo Woo. I sure hope that some of the situations were embellished and have to wonder what her family thinks of their dysfunction not only being part of a novel but highlighted for Canada Reads.
The book made me appreciate my old childhood experience even more than I do but I really had trouble reading about the dreadful family dynamics, verbal and physical abuse.
The book made me appreciate my old childhood experience even more than I do but I really had trouble reading about the dreadful family dynamics, verbal and physical abuse.
March 14, 2019
Lindsay Wong’s memoir, The Woo Woo, takes a look at growing up in a family plagued with mental illness. Equal parts heartbreaking and darkly comedic, The Woo Woo explores the author’s complicated relationship with her parents, siblings and extended family as well as her own mental illness after being diagnosed with a neurological disorder in her twenties.
Now in her thirties, Wong has lived a very challenging life. Her grandparents, her parents and her Aunt have all had varying forms of mental illness, which led her to believe she would not be able to escape it herself. So, you can imagine growing up with the looming threat of everything from depression to schizophrenia hanging over your head would lead to constantly questioning your own mental state.
Even though the bulk of this story takes place in the nineties and the early 2000s, it is not like we’ve really come close to reducing the stigma associated with mental illness despite countless public awareness campaigns. In Asian culture, it can be even more maligned. Its existence is often denied outright and completely ignored – so we get situations like Lindsay’s where it’s based on superstitions and ghosts.
Given the heavy nature of the book, I did find it to be a difficult read, even with the comedic tone that it’s presented with. There are only so many times you can hear her parents calling her “a retard” before it begins to feel repetitive and loses its impact. I certainly do not want to make light of her struggles because I cannot even imagine growing up in the environment that she did (and mine wasn’t the best at times to be honest), but I didn’t really get as much out of this story as I expected given the effect the other four books in the Canada Reads competition had on me.
The Woo Woo is proof that no matter how screwed up your upbringing, you can come out OK on the other side. Given all that Wong had to deal with by such an early age, it would not be shocking that she end up as a statistic rather than the successful writer she became. I don’t know if it can win the debates later on this month, but I’m looking forward to how Joe Zee defends it.
Now in her thirties, Wong has lived a very challenging life. Her grandparents, her parents and her Aunt have all had varying forms of mental illness, which led her to believe she would not be able to escape it herself. So, you can imagine growing up with the looming threat of everything from depression to schizophrenia hanging over your head would lead to constantly questioning your own mental state.
Even though the bulk of this story takes place in the nineties and the early 2000s, it is not like we’ve really come close to reducing the stigma associated with mental illness despite countless public awareness campaigns. In Asian culture, it can be even more maligned. Its existence is often denied outright and completely ignored – so we get situations like Lindsay’s where it’s based on superstitions and ghosts.
Given the heavy nature of the book, I did find it to be a difficult read, even with the comedic tone that it’s presented with. There are only so many times you can hear her parents calling her “a retard” before it begins to feel repetitive and loses its impact. I certainly do not want to make light of her struggles because I cannot even imagine growing up in the environment that she did (and mine wasn’t the best at times to be honest), but I didn’t really get as much out of this story as I expected given the effect the other four books in the Canada Reads competition had on me.
The Woo Woo is proof that no matter how screwed up your upbringing, you can come out OK on the other side. Given all that Wong had to deal with by such an early age, it would not be shocking that she end up as a statistic rather than the successful writer she became. I don’t know if it can win the debates later on this month, but I’m looking forward to how Joe Zee defends it.
February 9, 2019
Memoirs are hard to review. I feel weird and out of place reviewing and rating someones life. When I rate and review memoirs it is more about if I had a good time reading the book, did the story move me, the writing style...I try very hard not to judge the choices the authors make in memoirs, it is their life, not mine and therefore I am not allowed to "rate" it. So the Woo Woo, based on my 3 star review basically means I had an alright time reading this, the writing was okay and Wong's story did keep me interested.
This book is by far the most chaotic I've ever read. Lindsay Wong writes about her life growing up in Vancouver British Columbia, Canada and how her family didn't believe in mental illness. With a severely depressed and paranoid mother, a schizophrenic grandmother and a father who told her how useless she was, Lindsay Wong tells us the story of how she survived this mess.
I don't think I would recommend everyone go out and read this novel. It is sad. It made me angry at times. It is clear that is a story of what happens when mental health issues/diseases are not taken care of. Often described as "darkly comedic", I did find some things funny but mostly the book really disturbed me. Although this book and the fact that it exists is proof that you aren't always the product of your upbringing. Lindsay should be proud of herself for going against her family grain and showing the world the dark side of mental illness in her story.
This book is by far the most chaotic I've ever read. Lindsay Wong writes about her life growing up in Vancouver British Columbia, Canada and how her family didn't believe in mental illness. With a severely depressed and paranoid mother, a schizophrenic grandmother and a father who told her how useless she was, Lindsay Wong tells us the story of how she survived this mess.
I don't think I would recommend everyone go out and read this novel. It is sad. It made me angry at times. It is clear that is a story of what happens when mental health issues/diseases are not taken care of. Often described as "darkly comedic", I did find some things funny but mostly the book really disturbed me. Although this book and the fact that it exists is proof that you aren't always the product of your upbringing. Lindsay should be proud of herself for going against her family grain and showing the world the dark side of mental illness in her story.
February 8, 2019
This is a great memoir about growing up in a Chinese family with mental health issues. There's a lot of dark humour involved, and Lindsay Wong, the author, doesn't pull any punches and shows the dark side of what has happened in her family. However, as someone who suffers mental health issues myself, I found some parts of this really hard to read. I'm glad it was written and I hope more people read it. I think it's a very important story.
February 6, 2019
It must have taken Lindsay Wong a great amount of courage to write this story. It is not easy to talk about mental illness and to reveal yours and your family's demons- woo woos- to the entire world to judge.
I found quite a few repeating passages and parts that could have been edited out.
I found quite a few repeating passages and parts that could have been edited out.
February 16, 2019
I'm not sure what inspired the author to write about her odious family but it is neither interesting nor entertaining.
March 23, 2019
Painful. Just painful.
May 21, 2020
Lindsay Wong has a smart and creative way with words. I am happy to see her memoir considered for Canada Reads 2019, it is funny and depressing in an uplifting kind of way, very bizarre. A somewhat unique voice, very well executed. Only real low point for me is that the "fun in dysfunctional family" story has been done and done already (The Glass Castle, Running with Scissors, ...) - I feel I've simply read one too many.
February 23, 2019
Solid 4 stars: This is probably the first memoir I’ve ever read that actually kept my attention and made me want to keep reading. Memoirs and biographies aren’t my favorite genre of books to read but this book caught my attention when it was selected for Canada Reads. I was particularly interested as I am Chinese Canadian and this is a story about a Chinese Canadian family and mental health - two topics that are rarely ever discussed together.
Although the topic of mental illness isn’t as extreme in my family as the Wong family, it is definitely a taboo topic and not easily brought up around the adults. I expected to read something relatable and similar to my own family’s experiences of avoidance and blindness, but it was totally not what I was expecting. A lot more dramatic and bizarre than I was expecting, but in a good way? I didn’t know how to feel while I was reading this book. There were moments of anger, pity, sadness, and sometimes a glimmer of happiness. This book takes you through it all.
Apart from bridging this gap between discussions of mental health and Asian communities, it also exposes the generational impact of mental illness. One of the lines that stood out while I was reading was this: “We were a product of untreated mental illness that had escalated for generations.” There are so many things to unpack about this line and this book. The importance of getting treatment and help for mental illness, the importance of recognizing it affects not only the person but everyone around them and that it can have lasting effects on generations to come.
Would 100% recommend this book. It made me uncomfortable, but within that discomfort I was able to learn and expose myself to something new.
Although the topic of mental illness isn’t as extreme in my family as the Wong family, it is definitely a taboo topic and not easily brought up around the adults. I expected to read something relatable and similar to my own family’s experiences of avoidance and blindness, but it was totally not what I was expecting. A lot more dramatic and bizarre than I was expecting, but in a good way? I didn’t know how to feel while I was reading this book. There were moments of anger, pity, sadness, and sometimes a glimmer of happiness. This book takes you through it all.
Apart from bridging this gap between discussions of mental health and Asian communities, it also exposes the generational impact of mental illness. One of the lines that stood out while I was reading was this: “We were a product of untreated mental illness that had escalated for generations.” There are so many things to unpack about this line and this book. The importance of getting treatment and help for mental illness, the importance of recognizing it affects not only the person but everyone around them and that it can have lasting effects on generations to come.
Would 100% recommend this book. It made me uncomfortable, but within that discomfort I was able to learn and expose myself to something new.
May 12, 2019
I forced myself to finish reading this even though I hated it, just so I could write this review.
This is a badly written memoir written by a miserable, rich, whiny, incredibly irritating Chinese girl in Vancouver whose family is all battling mental illness (which they refer to as the woo-woo). They're all mean and nasty, including Lindsay, the protagonist.
Here's a typical exchange between the parents, in front of Lindsay.
"Don't tell Lindsay to kill herself! She's weak in the fucking head. She's so retarded she might actually listen to you! You want her to die in the house and give us bad luck?"
"What's wrong with that?" my father asked, as if he didn't know the answer. He folded his arms and looked bewildered. "I have two other kids already and now I have Doggy, so that makes perfect three! I am so sad Retarded Lindsay fail at piano!"
"Lindsay's a stupid piece of shit, but don't fucking tell her to kill herself. She hasn't done anything to you!"
"I'm just telling Retarded Lindsay the truth!" he screamed, making his new dog bark. "None of you can handle the truth! Can Retarded Lindsay please go die now, thank you very much. Daddy appreciate it. How about early birthday present to me?"
I suffered through 314 pages of this crap. It took me over a month.
And I'm no stranger to family dysfunction, but I call bullshit on this so-called memoir. If I had to guess, I'd say 90% of it is pure lies or huge exaggerations.
This is a badly written memoir written by a miserable, rich, whiny, incredibly irritating Chinese girl in Vancouver whose family is all battling mental illness (which they refer to as the woo-woo). They're all mean and nasty, including Lindsay, the protagonist.
Here's a typical exchange between the parents, in front of Lindsay.
"Don't tell Lindsay to kill herself! She's weak in the fucking head. She's so retarded she might actually listen to you! You want her to die in the house and give us bad luck?"
"What's wrong with that?" my father asked, as if he didn't know the answer. He folded his arms and looked bewildered. "I have two other kids already and now I have Doggy, so that makes perfect three! I am so sad Retarded Lindsay fail at piano!"
"Lindsay's a stupid piece of shit, but don't fucking tell her to kill herself. She hasn't done anything to you!"
"I'm just telling Retarded Lindsay the truth!" he screamed, making his new dog bark. "None of you can handle the truth! Can Retarded Lindsay please go die now, thank you very much. Daddy appreciate it. How about early birthday present to me?"
I suffered through 314 pages of this crap. It took me over a month.
And I'm no stranger to family dysfunction, but I call bullshit on this so-called memoir. If I had to guess, I'd say 90% of it is pure lies or huge exaggerations.
March 6, 2019
Abandoned at 30%.
This memoir is a stark look at a dysfunctional family burdened by undiagnosed mental illness and immigrant stoicism, but I got tired of the repetitiveness. In every chapter the same incidents are repeated over and over: her dad calls her stupid, crying brings on demons, she has no friends, her mom has an episode. I would have liked the author to spend more time discussing the impact of this upbringing, the underlying mental illnesses, the damaging effect of stigma and family shame - and maybe she gets there eventually, but too late for me, because I grew tired of the narrative's bleak misery. (And I did not find any of what I read “darkly comedic”.)
This memoir is a stark look at a dysfunctional family burdened by undiagnosed mental illness and immigrant stoicism, but I got tired of the repetitiveness. In every chapter the same incidents are repeated over and over: her dad calls her stupid, crying brings on demons, she has no friends, her mom has an episode. I would have liked the author to spend more time discussing the impact of this upbringing, the underlying mental illnesses, the damaging effect of stigma and family shame - and maybe she gets there eventually, but too late for me, because I grew tired of the narrative's bleak misery. (And I did not find any of what I read “darkly comedic”.)
May 5, 2019
Funny in a sad way for the first few chapters but then just sad in a pathetic way. Makes me wonder how real vs exaggerated the story is.
May 21, 2019
This book was one of the five debated on CANADA READS 2019. It was the first one voted off and the only one that I had not read. I put it on hold at the library in February, but many others were ahead of me. I just finished reading it and agree with the order the books were voted off CANADA READS.
Lindsay Wong grew up with a paranoid schizophrenic grandmother and a mother who was deeply afraid of the "woo-woo" - Chinese ghosts who visit in times of personal turmoil. When Lindsay was six, she and her mother avoided the dead people haunting their house by hiding out in a mall food court, and on a camping trip, Lindsay's mother tried to rid her daughter of demons by lighting her foot on fire.
I feel so sorry for Lindsay Wong. This memoir tells of her tormented childhood and teenage years with a mother, father and grandmother who have mental illness. The author is physically, mentally and emotionally abused by her family, schools and neighbourhood.
A neurologist in New York diagnosed Lindsay with "the most severe case of migraine-related vestibulopathy that he had ever encountered."
"THE WOO-WOO will break your heart, then bind it back together. With luxurious prose, dark humour, and a sharp yet tender gaze, Lindsay Wong gives us an unforgettable memoir."
- Lily Brooks-Dalton, author of MOTORCYCLES I'VE LOVED and GOOD MORNING, MIDNIGHT
Lindsay Wong grew up with a paranoid schizophrenic grandmother and a mother who was deeply afraid of the "woo-woo" - Chinese ghosts who visit in times of personal turmoil. When Lindsay was six, she and her mother avoided the dead people haunting their house by hiding out in a mall food court, and on a camping trip, Lindsay's mother tried to rid her daughter of demons by lighting her foot on fire.
I feel so sorry for Lindsay Wong. This memoir tells of her tormented childhood and teenage years with a mother, father and grandmother who have mental illness. The author is physically, mentally and emotionally abused by her family, schools and neighbourhood.
A neurologist in New York diagnosed Lindsay with "the most severe case of migraine-related vestibulopathy that he had ever encountered."
"THE WOO-WOO will break your heart, then bind it back together. With luxurious prose, dark humour, and a sharp yet tender gaze, Lindsay Wong gives us an unforgettable memoir."
- Lily Brooks-Dalton, author of MOTORCYCLES I'VE LOVED and GOOD MORNING, MIDNIGHT
June 29, 2021
There are three miracles in this book. The first is that Lindsay Wong actually did survive everything she says (and so much more) and lived to tell the tale; and the second, that she does so with such brutal, absurdist, gut-wrenching comic genius. The third miracle is the less obvious but equally powerful sense of compassion, not least toward her parents, that emerges over the course of the story. Wong's memoir of lurid family chaos, rendered brilliantly in every shocking color, is nevertheless rich in nuance and subtlety.
February 12, 2019
I can only hope that the Canada Reads panel provides me with insight about why this book is so extraordinary. I feel for Wong's emotionally-charged childhood, and the constant presence of mental illness in her family, but the writing is choppy, and there are way too many descriptors or metaphors or examples or on and on and on (someone needs to edit it!). I struggled to read it.
Before the Epilogue, it ENDS thus:
Thus it BEGINS in a Prologue:
"'Miss Wong, you are seriously ill,' the neurologist in a midtown office said, preparing me a sympathy tissue. But I was dry-eyed and benignly frosty, my way of responding to shitty news. It wasn't like me to fake a ladylike smile, or even to cry."
Before the Epilogue, it ENDS thus:
Thus it BEGINS in a Prologue:
"'Miss Wong, you are seriously ill,' the neurologist in a midtown office said, preparing me a sympathy tissue. But I was dry-eyed and benignly frosty, my way of responding to shitty news. It wasn't like me to fake a ladylike smile, or even to cry."
March 10, 2019
Canada Reads has introduced me to some good books. This is not one of them. Canada Reads should promote books that further our understanding of minorities, immigrants, and other marginalized groups. This book for me created more stereotypes than it broke down. It is supposed to be a story about a woman overcoming her childhood in a family afflicted with mental health challenges and ancient Chinese beliefs about demon possession, but the things she describes are so extreme as to be unbelievable, and she tells little about how she actually managed to survive and become a person capable of writing a book. I couldn't wait for it to be over, and wouldn't have stuck it out if it hadn't been for Canada Reads.
February 22, 2019
I don't read many memoirs by non famous people as I have the impression/worry that they are going to be either misery drenched or rags to riches gloating. However The Woo Woo is a delightful rebuttal to my prejudice. What makes this memoir so good is Lindsay Wong's writing, it is much much funnier, albeit acerbic and caustically, than you would ever imagine from a basic description of the events and themes discussed. I'm not sure I would have picked up this book had it not been part of Canada Reads and for me this is exactly what makes Canada Reads worthwhile.
February 7, 2019
3.5 ⭐️ This book reminded me of The Glass Castle and Educated.
*CBC Canada Reads book
*CBC Canada Reads book
March 17, 2019
Not what I expected, not what I was looking for.
I had a really hard time with this book. Many of the elements seem so out there that I started to wonder if it is all actually true. Then I realized that's not something for me to question when I consider that it is a) someone else's story that I wasn't there for and b) she's looking at it through a cultural lens that is not my own. But then I realized that she is trying to write a lot of this from a humourous viewpoint (see: darkly comedic memoir) but this is a book about how her family is grappling with some serious mental illness that manifests itself in abusive situations throughout her entire childhood and how the hell am I supposed to find any of this even a little funny? I can't share in the humour of this book.
There were a few things in terms of the writing of the book that bugged me as well. After reading just the prologue I was thought I was going to scream if I saw the word "woo-woo" again. It comes up a lot in the book. Also, I get that these were the words being used by people around her but do we need to keep repeating the word retarded so much? And we get it, everyone called the girl from high school "Wheelchair Wobin" but did the author have to refer to her by that every single time? Years later you can't give her the dignity of calling her Robin?
The writing was very detached from what was happening, it didn't feel like there was much time dedicated to why this was all happening and a lot of it felt like it played on stereotypes. I felt uncomfortable in reading this book and not because of the subject matter. Also the subtitle of the book, "How I Survived Ice Hockey, Drug Raids, Demons, and My Crazy Chinese Family" you can take Ice Hockey and Drug Raids out of it. Those are minor happenings in the whole story and nothing that really had to be "survived."
So yeah, I guess you could say I didn't really care for this book. Wouldn't have finished it if it wasn't a Canada Reads book. Read some of the 5 star reviews to decide if this is a book for you.
I had a really hard time with this book. Many of the elements seem so out there that I started to wonder if it is all actually true. Then I realized that's not something for me to question when I consider that it is a) someone else's story that I wasn't there for and b) she's looking at it through a cultural lens that is not my own. But then I realized that she is trying to write a lot of this from a humourous viewpoint (see: darkly comedic memoir) but this is a book about how her family is grappling with some serious mental illness that manifests itself in abusive situations throughout her entire childhood and how the hell am I supposed to find any of this even a little funny? I can't share in the humour of this book.
There were a few things in terms of the writing of the book that bugged me as well. After reading just the prologue I was thought I was going to scream if I saw the word "woo-woo" again. It comes up a lot in the book. Also, I get that these were the words being used by people around her but do we need to keep repeating the word retarded so much? And we get it, everyone called the girl from high school "Wheelchair Wobin" but did the author have to refer to her by that every single time? Years later you can't give her the dignity of calling her Robin?
The writing was very detached from what was happening, it didn't feel like there was much time dedicated to why this was all happening and a lot of it felt like it played on stereotypes. I felt uncomfortable in reading this book and not because of the subject matter. Also the subtitle of the book, "How I Survived Ice Hockey, Drug Raids, Demons, and My Crazy Chinese Family" you can take Ice Hockey and Drug Raids out of it. Those are minor happenings in the whole story and nothing that really had to be "survived."
So yeah, I guess you could say I didn't really care for this book. Wouldn't have finished it if it wasn't a Canada Reads book. Read some of the 5 star reviews to decide if this is a book for you.
March 10, 2019
2.5 stars.
The Woo-Woo is an unflinching, yet emotionally distant, memoir which chronicles the author’s experiences growing up in her dysfunctional Chinese-Canadian family. Wong’s childhood and young adulthood is filled with verbal/physical abuse and neglect, and she struggles with many aspects of her life including making friends and forming a healthy relationship with food. The members of her family clearly suffer from mental disturbances and illnesses, yet they distrust doctors and psychiatrists, preferring to believe that they are plagued by Chinese ghosts, who they refer to as the Woo-Woo. Wong witnesses their irrational, and untreated, behaviour, including suicide attempts (one of which made national news in Canada), all while fearing that the Woo-Woo may someday possess her.
I commend Wong for writing about her family so openly. In the last few pages of the book, she writes: “No one would ever believe me if I told them about all the wondrous and terrible and fantastical things that had happened to me.” – and it really is hard to believe at times. I am sure that she was quite aware that her memoir and the events depicted in it would elicit negative responses from some readers, yet she wrote it anyways. There is power in that, and I hope it served a therapeutic purpose for her. However, I feel as though she wasn’t quite ready to write/publish this book, and I kept hoping for more reflection/growth from Wong (besides simple statements such as “I know now…” or “I recognize now…”). The writing felt repetitive and would have benefited from some editing.
While I can’t say that I enjoyed reading this book, I appreciate Wong’s honesty and bravery and I think her work will have the power to help those in similar situations.
The Woo-Woo is an unflinching, yet emotionally distant, memoir which chronicles the author’s experiences growing up in her dysfunctional Chinese-Canadian family. Wong’s childhood and young adulthood is filled with verbal/physical abuse and neglect, and she struggles with many aspects of her life including making friends and forming a healthy relationship with food. The members of her family clearly suffer from mental disturbances and illnesses, yet they distrust doctors and psychiatrists, preferring to believe that they are plagued by Chinese ghosts, who they refer to as the Woo-Woo. Wong witnesses their irrational, and untreated, behaviour, including suicide attempts (one of which made national news in Canada), all while fearing that the Woo-Woo may someday possess her.
I commend Wong for writing about her family so openly. In the last few pages of the book, she writes: “No one would ever believe me if I told them about all the wondrous and terrible and fantastical things that had happened to me.” – and it really is hard to believe at times. I am sure that she was quite aware that her memoir and the events depicted in it would elicit negative responses from some readers, yet she wrote it anyways. There is power in that, and I hope it served a therapeutic purpose for her. However, I feel as though she wasn’t quite ready to write/publish this book, and I kept hoping for more reflection/growth from Wong (besides simple statements such as “I know now…” or “I recognize now…”). The writing felt repetitive and would have benefited from some editing.
While I can’t say that I enjoyed reading this book, I appreciate Wong’s honesty and bravery and I think her work will have the power to help those in similar situations.
November 3, 2018
A touching and darkly humorous memoir about growing up in a Canadian Chinese family in "Hongcouver" which blames their psychiatric woes on ghosts and demons known as "the woo-woos, from her mother, who sees camping in a Walmart parking lot as the only safe haven to escape the spirits of the dead, to a beloved psychotic aunt who holds Vancouver hostage for eight hours when she threatens to jump off a bridge. Wong manages to escape to New York to do a MFA at Columbia when she fears the woo-woos are coming for her too. For fans of the "So you think your life is shit..." genre of memoir a la "Glass Castle" and "Educated".
March 1, 2019
This was a book of endless awful anecdotes about a family that never seems to learn anything from their experiences. None of the characters grow and all are very unlikable. The characters are all just as cruel, ignorant, and unaware of the world around them at the end of the book as they were at the beginning. How did the author become a university educated writer given that abysmal childhood? Some reflection from her would be helpful, but we get absolutely nothing suggesting this writer is at all aware of the world. What a colossal waste of time. How did this ever get on the Canada Reads list?
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