Honestly, I don’t think I’ve read a book that was as sweepingly -and sensitively, written like this (and it’s a debut too no less!) since Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai’s, “The Mountains Sing”.
Equally epic in scope -and subject, “Ghost Girl, Banana” is a fascinating familial saga, fuelled by (earth wind and fire? Kidding -sorry, couldn’t help myself) secrets, longing, history and identity.
Though I’m not quite so sure that my very brief aforementioned summary, is conveying just how powerfully emotive, and impactful a story lies within these pages.
To me, this book feels very much like a reclamation (or tale of redemption perhaps?) in every sense of the word. From the clever choice of it’s title -with “Ghost Girl” and “Banana” being two (sadly often used) racial Asian slurs, to the thought process behind the final cover design (mine is the US edition) and how the multilayered framing and dragon motif, represents Lily’s (Li Li) uncovering and subsequent exploration of herself, and her cultural identity -STUNNING STUFF!
Then (not least of all) we have the actual story itself.
Primarily influenced by Whartons posthumous discovery of her mothers old diaries (of which, documented her early life and experiences as a Chinese immigrant living in the London during the 60s) a thematically tantalising, and deeply enriching tale is woven!
Through Whartons choice of opting for a alternating dual narrative, we (the reader) are not only able to draw parallels between mother and daughter -with Sook-Yin’s 1960s experience, told from a third person (some may say, “omniscient” style) perspective, framed against Lily’s late 90s, “cultural revolution rising”, first person -almost soul (or almost voice) searching perspective, both of which clearly portrays two young women struggling to find not only their “place” within a (politically and racially) tumultuous world at large, but desperately grappling with inner, more personal feelings of identity and familial displacement too, but effectively (and affectively too I might add) admits all that is seemingly (almost always) against them (especially as women of colour), they are able to rise up to said challenges, and forge new paths and ways to create a space (or place) for themselves.
A poignantly powerful debut -I can’t wait to read what Wharton writes next!
4.5 (maybe 5?) stars
PS -only really knocking off 1/2 star because (rather selfishly I admit) I would’ve loved to have had a third perspective from one of the older ladies (Sook-yins mother/Lilys grandmother for example), and heard more about her experiences living as a young girl/woman during the rise of communist china, as well as her life as a young wife/ex wife and mother at that time.
But again, that’s just me (greedily) wanting more !