Malaya: Essays on Freedom

by Cinelle Barnes

From Cinelle Barnes, author of the memoir Monsoon Mansion , comes a moving and reflective essay collection about finding freedom in America. Out of a harrowing childhood in the Philippines, Cinelle Barnes emerged triumphant. But as an undocumented teenager living in New York, her journey of self-discovery was just beginning. Because she couldn’t get a driver’s license or file taxes, Cinelle worked as a cleaning lady and a nanny and took other odd jobs―and learned to look over her shoulder, hoping she wouldn’t get caught. When she falls in love and marries a white man from the South, Cinelle finds herself trying to adjust to the thorny underbelly of “southern hospitality” while dealing with being a new mother, an immigrant affected by PTSD, and a woman with a brown body in a profoundly white world. From her immigration to the United States, to navigating a broken legal system, to balancing assimilation and a sense of self, Cinelle comes to rely on her resilience and her faith in the human spirit to survive and come of age all over again. Lyrical, emotionally driven, and told through stories both lived and overheard, Cinelle’s intensely personal, yet universal, exploration of race, class, and identity redefines what it means to be a woman―and an American―in a divided country.

Genres: Memoir, Essays, Nonfiction, Biography, Aapi, Asia, Short Stories

204 pages, Hardcover

First published October 29, 2019

About the author

BEAUTY in TRUTH

Cinelle Barnes is a creative non-fiction writer and educator from Manila, Philippines. She writes memoirs and personal essays on trauma, growing up in Southeast Asia, and on being a mother and immigrant in America. In 2014, she was nominated for the AWP Journal Intro Award for Creative Non-Fiction, and in 2015 received an MFA from Converse College. She was part of the inaugural Kundiman Creative Non-Fiction Intensive in New York City and will be attending the VONA/Voices workshop for political content writing at the University of Pennsylvania in summer 2017. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Literary Hub, South85, Skirt!, West Of, Your Life Is A Trip, the Piccolo Spoleto Fiction Series, Itinerant Literate's StorySlam, and Hub City Press's online anthology, Multicultural Spartanburg.

Follow me on Instagram! @cinellebarnesbooks
Cinelle teaches writing workshops throughout the year, including Poses and Prose, a yoga + writing workshop.

Her debut memoir, Monsoon Mansion, will be available through Amazon.com and independent booksellers in Spring 2018 (Little A).

Reviews

[Justin · Rating 5 out of 5]

***I was granted an ARC of this via Netgalley from the publisher.***

When I read Cinelle Barnes’ memoir Monsoon Mansion earlier this year, I knew she was a special writer. When I found out about Malaya: Essays on Freedom, I knew I had to get a copy and I can say Barnes did not disappoint with her second book. Malaya is a collection of essays in which Barnes relates her experiences and lessons learned as she has made her way as an immigrant in the US, to getting married and becoming a citizen and having a child and writing her first book. The reader will be moved by the crushing disappointments and amazing victories that Barnes has had in her life. But while this can be seen as a sequel to Monsoon Mansion, it is so much more. Barnes speaks directly to the reader asking them to consider what believes they may have and how they can be better to those society tends to want to ignore or vilify like immigrants and those with mental health issues. But she serves as an inspirational figure, someone who while they may still struggle with the traumas of the past can find strength in the everyday successes that they have. In my opinion, this is the best book that I have read so far this year. I would encourage everyone to read this book, and if you get a chance also read her first book Monsoon Mansion.

Rating: 5 stars. Would highly recommend to a friend.

[daemyra, the realm's delight · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hot on the heels of Cinelle Barnes' well-received memoir, Monsoon Mansion, Barnes has released Malaya, an essay collection on the pursuits of freedom. Barnes shares creative essays about those that have oppressed her, those that she has enabled, and stepped on. If you haven't read Barnes' memoir, Malaya shares enough of the pieces of Barnes' life story that you can follow along.

Some of my favourite essays concern Barnes navigating interracial relationships, whether romantic or platonic and dealing with family trauma. "Careful White Girls, Careful Brown Girls" is simply one of the best essays in the collection, detailing a friendship Barnes seeks out with a surfer mom who she seems to idealize for her freedom and spirit, only to find herself disillusioned and angry at "white women everywhere who could fluidly slip in and out of spaces, toy with danger, even give danger a name, call it a gig, a job, a lifestyle." Danger is not something that Barnes never dared to flirt with, as an undocumented immigrant. "Genealogy" is a multi-faceted look into Southern families, a conflicting portrayal of silence and suffocation. "Cafe Culture" and "To Care, To Care Too Much" tell tales of modern employment - maids, hostesses, Etsy entrepreneurs - with the minefields of working with people with their own life stories. And of course, there are essays about writing essays. These were enjoyable if simply to hear about a craftswoman talk passionately about her trade.

Malaya reminded me of why I read, to learn about lives different from us and to remember we don't know what people are going through. Malaya is a thought-provoking and fast-paced read.

[Sachi Argabright · Rating 5 out of 5]

MALAYA is a collection of essays that reflect on Barnes’s life after immigrating to the US. Like her first book, MONSOON MANSION, this book dives deep into her personal experiences in a very intimate way. Barnes doesn’t shy away from the difficult topics such as living as an undocumented immigrant, being in an interracial marriage and having extended family who are less than friendly, and living as a brown person in a profoundly white community and an overall divided country.

It’s no secret that I loved MONSOON MANSION, and I really loved this second book as well! After reading her memoir, I felt like I knew Cinelle so well (yes, I feel like I’m on a first name basis with her), and was so eager to see how her life continued to unfold in MALAYA. Picking up this book felt like I was revisiting a friend, and catching up with them through a deep conversation over coffee. Cinelle’s voice comes through so clearly to the reader, and I flew through this book in a couple sittings. I don’t feel like it’s an absolute must that MONSOON MANSION is read before reading this, but I think it greatly adds to the experience. I feel like her thoughts in this book are even more powerful after you know what she experienced in the Philippians. The essays are powerful, and I really empathized with her story and saw my own experiences reflected in certain parts as well.

Overall a great read, and a wonderful choice for API Heritage Month!

[Jerica · Rating 5 out of 5]

An unflinching and honest reflection of life after surviving an abusive and incredible childhood. I loved it - five of five stars. My next plan to to find and read “Monsoon Mansion”.

“My baby’s room felt wet with Manila rainwater—my own childhood intruding into my child’s. My body had given birth to a human, but my body also wanted to expel something more. It wanted to flush out the accumulation of hurt and sorrow and fear, three things all immigrants pack with them from home.”

[Peluchi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Malaya, essays on freedom, by Cinelle Barnes (pub. 2019 by Little A publishing)

Belated Filipinx-American History Month & happy non-fiction November!!! I’ve had this book on my shelf for a while, since I devoured Monsoon Mansion, her memoir, last year. Finally decided to read this bc I’ve been missing home & also to celebrate FAHM!

Barnes writes about her life as an undocumented Filipina teenager in Long Island then NYC, working as a housecleaner with her siblings, being a fashion design student, & working as a hostess at a busy, hip café in Harlem. She writes about the depression she experienced when she learned she didn’t qualify for naturalization through adoption, then later her time running a custom bow-tie shop on Etsy with her roommate in Charleston, South Carolina, then her dreamy wedding at Central Park in NYC, and being a new mother back in Charleston, nursing her newborn while writing her memoir using index cards her husband gave her to write.

Malaya means “freedom” in Tagalog, and as Barnes includes as an epigraph: “We cannot talk about our oppressors without talking about those whom we oppress.” Barnes also writes about her White Southern husband’s shameful family history, whose farm used to be a plantation evidenced by ledgers that listed those the family had enslaved. She writes about how her new White Grandmama-in-law had shamed her at the beginning of her marriage to Grandmama’s last grandson.

Citing Joan Didion as one of her favorite authors, whose stories I have read very few of, Barnes’ essays are written calmly without sensation. She gives us imagery and paints us scenes from her awe-inspiring memory and transplants us into her past and parts of her present.

There’s always a silver lining with Barnes, even if that lining is a little on the greyer side bc she doesn’t sugarcoat the truth but rather she extracts it from the everyday beauty she sees and bullshit she faces as a Brown woman in “Whiteland”.

I recommend this to anyone who may want to get in a radical but calm writer’s head, a writer who has PTSD & maintains her sanity by writing about her memories, & the moments & catharsis that have helped her create peace in her world to heal.

[Lilisa · Rating 2 out of 5]

This set of essays by Cinelle Barnes reflects her journey from her childhood in the Philippines to her arrival in the U.S. and the subsequent challenges she faced navigating life as an undocumented teenager and adult. Life was difficult as she struggled to find work, make a living, and survive. Her story is emotional, painfully so, and the ghosts of her experiences I expect will never leave her and won’t set her free. It’s difficult to articulate, but at times I felt she almost drowned in herself and through her therapy was able to come out on the other side - thankfully. Having read Sonia Sotomayor’s My Beloved World immediately before this book, I was struck by the different approach each woman takes in handling issues of race. Not taking anything away from this author's lived experience, I was not wowed but the writing style - its basic and sometimes mundane language was a surprise. To enjoy a book means to savor the texture of language through which a riveting and absorbing story is told and, unfortunately, this did not happen here - I had hoped for so much more. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book.

[Andrea Beatriz Arango · Rating 5 out of 5]

I didn't think I'd read another nonfiction book as good as The Undocumented Americans this year, but MALAYA: ESSAYS ON FREEDOM is 100% it.

Barnes' collection of essays about her journey as an undocumented immigrant in NYC, her life as a brown person who married into a conservative white Southern family, her struggles with motherhood and writing as a person still reliving her trauma... it floored me. Every single essay floored me, and I've already asked my library to purchase her debut - a memoir about her childhood in the Philippines. (She also edited a collection of essays by writers of color on their experiences living and working in the contemporary South, which sounds fantastic as well.)

Honestly, that's how good this book was. It has made me want to read all of Barnes' backlist titles and anything she publishes in the future. I know I kind of started backwards, reading her essays on life in the States before reading her memoir about life pre-moving, but I don't care. The essays will blow you away regardless, and honestly they just made me want to read the memoir more.

5 ✨. Highly Recommend.

[Kath (kath_reads) · Rating 4 out of 5]

In this essay collection, Barnes shares the challenges and struggles she went through as an undocumented immigrant in the U.S., being brown in a white country, marrying a man who comes from a white family, being a first time mother and author while dealing with childhood trauma.

I loved Monsoon Mansion, the author's memoir, when I read it in 2019 so I knew I had to read Malaya when I found out about it. It took awhile for me to pick it up but it didn't matter. This was an exceptional read! I admire her courage so much. Her writing is honest, rich, and very compelling. She doesn't shy away to important and uncomfortable topics. She also share what writing means to her and it reflected so much in this book. There are so many things that I love in this collection. One of them is when Barnes stood up to her mother-in-law about not letting the "outsiders" in the U.S.. Another one is her thoughts about people (mainly white) saying that her daughter is pretty because she's half-Filipino which made her interesting and "exotic". Barnes is without a doubt a very talented and amazing writer. Her essays represents what freedom and being free means to each and everyone of us. Like for me, I felt confident and free since I've learned how to love my brown skin. I highly recommend this book and her debut, Monsoon Mansion.

[Demi (book_oasis) · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a beautifully written book. Having read “Monsoon Mansion” for book club, I wanted to read the rest of Cinelle Barnes’ life story. She does not disappoint. Coming from a traumatic background, Cinelle encapsulates the life of someone with PTSD, post-pardum depression, the fight behind writing one’s story and all of its obstacles, and the constant struggle of being a woman of color. Not only does she lyrically write about her life, she remains honest, strong, vulnerable, angry, and hopeful that her story can heal.

[Anthony Chan · Rating 4 out of 5]

a fantastic collection of essays that range from the punitive and incessant limbo that is undocumented status to the double-edged vulnerability of dealing with one's familial trauma. the essay/prose poem in the beginning, "Yours" was amazing. "Genealogy" and "To Care, To Care Too Much" were great reads. "Cafe Culture" was fun.

this book, i'm here for.

[Christina Wiese · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I had already developed a habit of dog-earing; the books weren’t mine but the sentences belonged to me.”

Found this while meandering in the Strand’s basement last summer. But like most things in life, timing is everything. Reading this right after “How to Hide an Empire” gave even more depth and context to the experiences here. And so many sentences truly did feel like they “belonged to me”.

[Marilyn Docherty · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed the collection of essays. An account of how the author has & is coming to terms with her traumatic past.

[Trish (readtmc) · Rating 5 out of 5]

I savored this fantastic, wide-ranging, intimate essay collection. Barnes's writing is beautiful and moving and I'm thankful I own a copy so I can keep her words close.

[Edrie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am still not sure how Monsoon Mansion ended up in my Kindle recommendations. My purchases from that year and the previous year were mostly comics that were on sale. But I had been looking for various works of fiction and non-fiction set in the Philippines (especially Metro Manila) during the 1980s and 1990s. I suppose that sentimental part of me was looking for a way to reminisce about the past through someone else’s eyes. I digress here but for those who are concerned about how insidious and intrusive the algorithm has become in identifying and recognizing our tastes and preferences, not all targeted advertisements are bad.

I would not say that Monsoon Mansion is a prerequisite to enjoy Barnes’s second book. But Malaya completes the picture that the first one sketches. We can treat the memoir with a certain comfortable detachment. After all, “[t]he past had no online footprint. The past lived in recesses of [our] brain that had been walled off… [We] had found a place for the past and there [we keep] it.” Mansion was in The Past, in a childhood that happened a thousand miles from where the author is now. The book ends with a happy distant finale, a testament that she overcame all the trials and tribulations of her early life. Malaya bridges that part and “Millennium” the penultimate chapter and it is a recollection of the hard life of being an undocumented immigrant and the not-quite hostile but still existent racism coming from her in-laws and even the internalized racism coming from her family (because we have to put it plainly wanting to have fairer/lighter skin is a maladaptive cultural trait hat reflects how our society just accepted colonial paradigms), bicycling in a country that created the car-dependent infrastructure, juggling motherhood and writing, and handling a child who wants to follow in your footsteps. There is a lot of old and fresh trauma involved and some of the essays left me distressed because this was no longer The Past. But Barnes’s resilience (a dirty word given how it has been used to promote Pinoy poverty porn and to excuse government incompetence during disaster preparedness and response) helps her get past that.

All in all Malaya is the story of one member of the voluminous Filipino diaspora. Those of us here in the Philippines tend to look at it as generally a good thing, especially when we see it’s the second and third generation producing artists, content creators, comedians, actors, and musicians. But we do not see the long and difficult road it took to get them there, that despite the painful trauma of being uprooted from your home Filipino resilience (there goes that word again) shines through. We forget that the system has made it so that our nation’s biggest export is us. This “country is a country of breadwinners turned absentee mothers and fathers. We measure our gross domestic product by the number of fathers and mothers that leave: two million in 2016. What we don’t measure: How many millions of children are left behind?”

Reading next: have to decide between Katie Kitamura’s A Separation versus Michelle Zauner’s Crying in H Mart.

[Mae-Anne Trinidad · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book.

As a Filipina-American, I related to her story on many levels. I was born and raised in the USA, so I never had the trauma of being an undocumented Filipina, but I understand her struggles as a Filipina trying to navigate the social systems of this country. The subtle ways the people, and American society as a whole, establishes their dominance over my/our non-White skintone. The biases that other immigrants hold regarding my/our Filipina culture that causes them to act and react in ways that signify our otherness. The way the Filipina is taken for granted in America because of what they believe a Filipina is. Cinelle did great in bringing all of that out, and making me rejoice in triumph upon reading the words she chose to describe the same scenarios/situations I go through or have been through.

I will never forget these two sentences: "It is exhausting enough to be Brown in Whitelandia. For her sake, I hope my daughter chooses a career that will not leave her pried open for people who will salivate just to see her bleed." I felt those words on a spiritual level.

I was blown away by the way she put my experience of America into words. It goes to show how important representation is in media such as books, because it took me 28 years to understand that there are flowery words to describe the situation I know I'm going through but can't mold into cohesive and clear and language. Her voice as a Filipina-American was similar to my experiences growing up as a Filipina-American. She was me, and I felt that I was her while I spent time reading her voice through this book.

Highly recommended read, especially if you're Filipino, particularly if you're Filipina-American. You won't feel like your time is wasted because she speaks to truth of our existence.

[Rey Carlo Sajulan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Proud to be Brown

I have not read this book as a Filipino-American, but as a Filipino back here in the Philippines who has experienced his own share of racism for a year when abroad and another form of “racism” while here in the Philippines. Maybe I have read this book out of curiosity to understand how fellow Filipinos fare in US where, once upon a time, I may have had migrated if I had pursued my nursing career. But more so, I have read this to understand also what it means to be Filipino. Not only its good sides and our kind of gift to be “mixed” and “open.” What I mean is, being Filipino means to embrace our heritage—our Asian, Malayan, Chinese, Spanish, and even American influences, not only in blood, but even in culture and society.

This book has also become a mirror for me to see my own hypocrisies and the “doctrines” ingrained in me by my ancestors. To un-love what makes me brown and aim always to be White. When one lives through this indoctrination, not only among family and the community, but even in society and the media, one believes that such “doctrines” have become dogma—white is good, brown will never measure up.

But Cinelle has shown me, made me come to grips with my own inner “rebellion” against this so-called doctrines and embrace my browness and love it and live it.

Thank you, Cinelle, and I look forward to more works from you!

[Alexis · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first heard about Cinelle Barnes in my Asians in Publishing Group. I was talking about essay collections by North American Asians. I learned that essay collections are really hard to get published, and there aren't a lot of them by North American Asians.

And then someone mentioned this one. BOOM!

Cinelle Barnes is a Filipina American who came to the US as an adoptee when she was 16. She was undocumented for about 8 years. In these essays, she writes about personal trauma and her life experiences. In one essay, she writes about how her husband, a Southern gentleman, helped her heal herself by encouraging her to write. She wrote her first collection on index cards as she nursed her daughter.

Her history is particularly interesting, and she writes a lot about race, and class, and what it is like to be undocumented in the United States.

One essay that was of particular interest to me was her essay "Culture Cafe", which is about her experiences working as a hostess in a restaurant in Harlem. She writes about gentrification, proximity to whiteness, and being in a restaurant of undocumented workers.

There's a bit of repetition in some of the essays, but I really enjoyed this collection, and I plan to get her first book.

[Suzanne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Until very recently, “multicultural” literature out of the South has referred almost exclusively to novels depicting relations between African Americans (often the descendants of slaves), and Americans of European descent. Although Asian immigrants have lived in the South since before the Civil War, albeit in small numbers, few Asian American characters appear in literature out of this region. Previously, when Asians or Asian Americans did appear in Southern fiction, they were often portrayed as the inscrutable “other.” Even fewer Asian Americans from the South have put pen to paper themselves, although this is changing. In Malaya, for example, Cinelle Barnes writes about being a Filipina in the American South, a Brown woman in a region that doesn't quite know what to do with its nonbinary residents (in spite of having elected Nikki Haley, the first Indian-American woman governor). Barnes writes with honesty and nuance of her time as a victim of childhood trauma, an undocumented immigrant, and the wife of a White man with KKK ancestors.

[Truce · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 out of 5 stars, rounded up.

I haven't read Monsoon Mansion, but having read Malaya, I'll definitely make time for it later this year -- Barnes's stories about her childhood were the most compelling part of this book, and I'd love to read more about it. Until now, I'd been completely ignorant about how the Gulf War affected Filipinos, and Barnes's story about being adopted as a teenager shows a side of immigration and adoption we don't often get to see.

That said, reading the essays about visiting her husband's grandmother in the Deep South and raising her daughter in a white neighborhood fell a little short for me and make me feel like I'm grading this on a curve. They certainly feel like perspectives only an outsider can have in white spaces, but having spent the past few years specifically seeking out Asian American writers on race, those particular essays felt like they were written for white people. Or, at the very least, they affirm what many of us POC have already experienced, rather than advance that conversation.

[Chelsey Keathley-Jones · Rating 3 out of 5]

I want to start by saying that I really feel if I had read the authors first book, Monsoon Mansion: A Memoir I would have given this one four stars instead of three. This is a standalone book but there are many references to the first memoir. This is a collection of essays but they read as a continuous story. I really enjoyed the bluntness and honesty of the author. I also enjoyed the mentioning of family members who had read her writings, as I often wonder when reading memoir what the authors family thinks about their intimate moments being shared with the world. I would recommend this, especially if you are a the white half of a interracial relationship. The view from the other side is important. I want to thank #netgalley and the publisher for the free copy for review.

[Sarita · Rating 5 out of 5]

This short story collection warmed my heart, enraged me and broke my heart in a good way. The central themes of the book seemed to be focused on immigration, motherhood, identity and freedom. Being confronted with racism and unfair circumstances and being able to rise above it. Whether it's due to Cinelle's love of reading and writing, creativity, self-taught survival skills or her genuine love for her daughter, Cinelle was able to overcome such intense and incredible circumstances. If you love the lyricism in Monsoon Mansion, her debut memoir, you will love Malaya. This book will stay with me for a very long time. It is so much more than an immigration story. It is a story of resilience and determination. I'm in constant awe of her life stories and admire Cinelle's craft and gift of writing. Highly recommended.

[Brandi Fox · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cinelle Barnes tells hard stories, stories that will make you squirm and cry and shake your fist for justice; but she clothes them in a language so beautiful that you can’t help but find a gleam of hope within. It is as if the care she uses in crafting her letters is a form of rebirth, that her words are the first layer of beauty rising from the ashes. They give hope not just about the content of her own stories, but the kind that spreads and whispers that maybe you too can hope for the beauty of you life and community to rise from it’s own devastations.

Read her.

Personally I recommend starting with “Monsoon Mansion” but don’t stop there. Hear what she has to say.

Hear her and be ready to be broken. Brokenness is part of what we must all walk through on the way to healing and strengthening for the fight and her words are an excellent guide on the way.

[Danielle | Dogmombookworm · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a collection of essays on freedom, "Malaya, which in [her] language means 'to be free.'"

There are many things that CB is struggling to free herself from: a traumatic childhood (a mother with dissociative identity disorder, an absent father), an undocumented citizen status that forced her to work pain-staking jobs for years (cleaning lady, laundromat cleaner), not to mention the constant plaguing fear that that entails where any normal occasion turns into a possible incident where she'd need to identify papers and be found lacking.

Each essay feels powerful and manifolded. It is not just about loss, traumas, and pain, though that is certainly a huge part; it is many things at once, and CB pushes through all of it, dredging it all up, to be the storyteller that she is so gifted to be.

[Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I rec'd Malaya as part of a giveaway. Barnes wrote a collection of essays based on her life and that of her family. She has a story for all of us. We all have histories that aren't shared. Being an undocumented immigrant is such a big load to carry. Jobs/school/credit all depend on immigration status. For anyone who was born in the US, our stories are mostly self imposed by our decisions or those of our parent/grandparents. It's easy to hide the bad stuff. However, immigrants are being treated so poorly it's as though they are naturally criminals when that's not the case. I hope readers pick up this book and realize the contribution to the US that immigrants give every day. We need them and they need us.

[Daina (Dai2DaiReader) · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an amazing book and I am officially a fan of Cinelle Barnes (am I late to the party?)!  I always hesitate to say non-fiction like this is “good” because I'm sure it’s not easy to write about something traumatic that happened to you.  But, what I will say is that this book is a work of art! 
 
You know how sometimes you read a book and wonder what happened to this person or you want more of an explanation as to why someone did what they did or acted a certain way?  Well this book of essays gives you more insight into her prior book, Monsoon Mansion.  You could read either book as a stand-alone but, reading the books together gave me such a complete picture of her story.  I am left wanting more writing from this author!

[Jaclyn · Rating 2 out of 5]

I feel like it started off strong, but as I read more I ended up glazing over everything. Not a fast read as I originally anticipated. It's like a bunch of jumbled thoughts versus a coherent timeline or events. While I didn't finish this book in it's entirety, I just don't have any desire to continue with it. (DNF at 78%.) The way the "essays" were shared isn't at all what I thought it would be. It's like one big life story versus multiple narratives/opinions and views from multiple people. It was slightly boring for me, perhaps because I can't relate, but I'm closing it out regardless. It was a book club read so I'm not at all upset about not finishing it. Normally don't rate books I don't complete, but this is one I just didn't enjoy and could not really recall anything I read in it.

[clementine · Rating 5 out of 5]

"When reporters and readers ask why I write memoir or nonfiction, or why I went through the painstaking work of writing a book about my most traumatic experiences, I tell them that I did it because it was a way to love myself. I didn't do it because I wanted to be spiteful towards my parents, or because I wanted to make money sensationalizing my history and politics. I wanted to do it and I needed to do it because I needed looking after. I wrote to be well."

I read Barnes' memoir, Monsoon Mansion, earlier this year and fell in love with her writing style. She is lyrical and deliberate with her words. This essay collection was as healing to read as Monsoon Mansion was heartbreaking. I will read anything and everything this author writes forever.

[Hannah Bae · Rating 5 out of 5]

My last book of 2022, and what a great one. I adored Cinelle Barnes’s first book, “Monsoon Mansion,” and had admired her essays for years, but “Malaya” took my appreciation to a whole other level. These are extraordinary, insightful essays, one where I feel the writer is holding my hand through some of the hardest experiences of her life. In these words, I see mirrors of ny experiences, and the effect squeezed my heart in so many surprising ways. I wasn’t expecting to cry so much while reading “Malaya,” but I did because I felt so SEEN.

[Elizabeth McCulloch · Rating 4 out of 5]

Malaya is a vivid, insightful picture of life in the shadows of our immigration system, as well as a portrait of an exceptional woman who overcame many obstacles to achieve the life she wanted. It is particularly compelling reading now, as chaos and cruelty rule our borders. For my illustrated review go to https://elizabethmccullochauthor.com/... (I received an advance review copy from Netgalley)

[Isabelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

After reading Monsoon Mansion, I was left with wanting more. Here, I got that more. Oh, my dear author, how I want to commend you on your courage and tenacity in life. You are an amazing and strong individual.

This book shows the courage of every day life and the struggles of life as an immigrant. But also life with PTSD and what it means to be struggling with mental illnesses and such as an immigrant

I highly recommend this book.