***I was provided with a digital advance readers copy of this book by the publisher in exchange for an honest review***
4.5/5
TL;DR: Set in Hong Kong in the turmoil of protests and violent police backlash, Everyday Movement is an intimate, nuanced, painstakingly detailed window into the lives of several characters involved in pro-democracy activism.
Admittedly, I didn’t have enough political or historical context to understand everything about the Hong Kong protest movement without doing a bit more reading on current events in HK, but the depiction of grassroots activist movements, state injustice, and police violence against protestors felt chillingly universal and prescient, especially given the current context of the U.S. government.
Leung perfectly captures both the infectious, bold energy behind resistance movements but also the defeat, fear, and despair that comes with rising political chaos. She paints a compassionate portrait of each of her characters, posing equally legitimate and human ways that people cope with the world crumbling around them: Panda’s passion and vivacity and commitment to compartmentalizing her social life from her life as an activist; Ah Lei’s depression and ennui in the face of disaster; Ah Mak’s journey from passivity to passionate resistance. Each character is sympathetic and immediately gripping and vivid, with strong chemistry from their first scenes together. Shifts in POV with each chapter result in a beautifully kaleidoscopic effect that further fleshes out each character’s personal experience and their relationships with one another.
Leung’s novel is also an exercise in dialectics, playing with conflicting, opposite realities side by side, especially epitomized by Panda and Ah Lei. From the first chapter, we’re presented with Ah Lei and Panda and their wildly different ways of approaching the world around them. The symbolism is clear and strong while never heavy-handed: by the end of chapter one, we’re already given plenty to chew on. Do material pleasures and comforts provide a necessary escape in hard times, or are they just a distraction or a capitulation to capitalist greed? Leung leaves this up to the reader, but she seems to suggest that both of these interpretations might be true.
I can’t quite put a finger on why, but the pacing lagged for me slightly in parts two and three. There is a slight shift from slice of life (granted, a chaotic, violent, and traumatic life) type depictions of a cast of characters to something more action-packed, complete with some time skips between events. I also felt like it lost the threads of some minor characters in a way that felt vaguely incomplete. That said, endings are notoriously difficult to nail, especially open ended ones, and I think Leung hit the mark perfectly.
While I took the time to savor each chapter, I didn’t dread picking Everyday Movement back up as I sometimes do with books that feel too violent and real. As dictated by the subject matter, it’s heavy and visceral, but it’s also full of humanity and hope. Jennifer Feeley’s translated prose is beautiful and smooth in a way that lets the characters and their complexities shine. This novel is simultaneously personal and intimate and so much greater than itself, and it’s left me plenty to ruminate on long after I’ve finished it.