I’d seen Yellowface being advertised on every single book display in every single book shop that I entered throughout 2023, but I only got round to reading it now. I was interested in it for sure, after reading a short blurb on what it was about, but I had such a big backlog of books to read through after all those years of not reading at all, that by the time I picked it up from my shelf, I had forgotten the premise entirely. And it wasn’t what I expected.

Yellowface shines a rather fascinating light onto the world of publishing, providing an insight into how the world of making books work. I was quick to remember why I was interested in this story in the first place: the publishing industry is an area of work I think I’d like to pursue in the future because of my love of books and for storytelling.

I found that Yellowface was quite an easy book to get through and it didn’t take me that long to finish, even though the main character was… interesting, to say the least. It’s a rather bold move, I think, to create a character that is so very insufferable. I’m not even sure that I have come across that before: a purposefully unlikeable lead. Characters may have negative traits, sure, but for a reader to actively dislike them entirely? I think that is new to me. Maybe during school we’d read a book that challenges the usual tropes about a main character that the audience follows, but I cannot, in recent memory, think of anything that I’ve read that actively wants you to side against the main character of the book. (I think I’ll have to go looking for other such stories that does this as I did find myself quite enjoying the idea!)

Juniper Hayward, to me, is a character who seems to think that the world owes her something. And this raw entitlement is hard to see in any sort of favourable light at all. She is a highly jealous person who seems to have no real morals: case and point taking someone else’s story – a very dead someone – and claiming it as her own.

Juniper is ultimately a downright nasty piece of work who is racist, jealous and miserable. Her downward spiral is a sight to behold, and if it weren’t for my overly sympathetic self, I would even say it is almost absolutely entertaining. But the mental suffering and anxiety that Juniper experiences throughout the story I have compassion for: it’s not nice being piled on by others online. I’ve only been involved in a few Twitter arguments, when I was young and a lot more hotheaded, but it’s not something that I’m proud of and nor something that I’d wish to experience ever again. And those instances were self-contained fallouts with just one other person. Five at most. Not the thousands that attack Juniper with a gleeful vengeance. And then some: because the actual news gets involved to put her on blast as well. I cannot imagine the stress and anxiety of being in such a bad situation: arguing with just one other anonymous stranger on the internet was more than enough for me! So I really did find myself feeling a certain empathy and concern for Juniper, despite it all.

But that is where my compassion for her ends. Juniper is filled with spite and her very voice is one of grotesque self-pity; the green-eyed monster looks up to her in reverence. She is abhorrent in both nature and demeanor, which only makes watching her self-imposed catastrophe unravel all the more delightful. Perhaps an argument could be made that Juniper’s entire attitude, and rather hateful personality, has come about due to the harsh and unforgiving world of publishing that we learn about in Yellowface, and from the struggle of trying to make it as an author. Having said that, however, Juniper herself made mention that she was already a jealous individual while in university, and so perhaps her venture into authorship has only heightened this bitterness, then. Worsened it by how competitive and ruthless the industry is.

Yellowface does very well is spreading awareness about the racism and stigma that is present within the publishing world. The book speaks on the barriers and limitations that are forced onto minority authors and individuals that work there, and it is unfortunately a very familiar tale of underprivilege and general disadvantage that certain groups of people face across society at large. R.F. Kuang’s righteous frustration at such treatment bleeds through the page, which only pulls at my empathy for Athena Liu especially, all the more. Though, in the mentioning of Kuang’s voice, I will say that in hindsight, maybe her personal voice is just a tad too noticeable. As someone who loves show and not tell, and find irritation with authors that choose to hold the audience’s hand through the story and basically tell them how they should feel about any one thing, I would say that I’d have appreciated a bit more subtlety inferred in the voice of the book. Though this is a small nitpick from me and not one that I minded as much as just how meta Yellowface was.

The transcending nature of this book, with mentions of Facebook and Twitter and other social media platforms sprinkled throughout, was a bit too much for my liking. My reading catalogue tends to be books that feature fantasy worlds, or that are set in the distant future when humanity has reached the stars; so each time I came across these little additions in the story – the mention of Instagram or Slack – I felt myself all at once taken out of the story a little bit. It’s just not something that I’m terribly used to, unfortunately. They also seemed rather jankily inserted into the narrative and read almost like an inside joke that I felt a little too out of the loop to appreciate. For me, the meta wasn’t as enjoyable and the transcendence didn’t once fail to jerk me rudely out from the story as I was reading. My brain would stutter and stumble over the reading of the words, ‘Facebook’ or ‘Twitter’ way too much, and a frown would crease my brow as some kind of readerly instinct in me really didn’t appreciate their presence in the narrative. But, again, I could stretch that this didn’t happen overly often and it didn’t really deter my ultimate enjoyment of the book.

There was a smooth quickening of the pace in the last act of this book and I felt as though I was being swept along in a strong current; my attention was kept and I continued reading. Throughout the book, I was waiting for Juniper’s very deserved comeuppance; waiting for the consequences of her actions to finally show up. And so when the uptick finally seemed to be happening – despite my empathy for her suffering – I can’t deny that I was on the edge of my seat with eager anticipation: the things Juniper thinks and does? It’s just atrocious.

But, well, I did not see what actually happened coming. At all. And I’m normally an impatient anticipator of how things will play out!

I won’t say anymore to avoid spoilers and I’ll finish up with that, despite its flaws, Yellowface was a thoroughly enjoyable read and one that I’m disappointed in myself for not coming to sooner. Key issues are exposed and addressed from different angles, creating many layers and an elaboration on exploring different perspectives – though the story is assured in making it known that there are no excuses for wrong behaviours. Kuang’s confidence in her writing and the clean precision of Yellowface’s execution made for a very satisfying read and my experience with this book has only made me look forward to reading more of Kuang’s work in the future.