I picked up this book about two weeks ago when I saw it on display during a trip home to the Bay for Mother’s Day. It was showcased as one of the bookstore’s favorites as written by a fellow East Bay native.

The Polaroid photo on the cover, accompanied by tales of cruising through Berkeley and its neighboring cities listening to 90s hip-hop and Nirvana, hunting through record stores and secondhand clothing seemed to mimic exactly what I was doing that very moment. It seemed serendipitous.

It was a breeze to read. Read my full thoughts from Goodreads below:

Just beautiful. A deeply personal look into a writer and the relationship he shared with his late best friend. Throughout, he comes to know himself in relation to the world around him.

This memoir is a beautiful look into the author’s past and collegiate life. Growing up in Berkeley, going to college and navigating friendships, girls, the culture of the city, the activism and racial discrimination. From his new friend Ken and his “practical sense of the world” to the author’s more radicalized view of the world, to writing about his own parents, music, and how it all evokes a real sense of Asian Americans today – immigrants, navigating life, surviving life through simple means, and us, the kids trying to make sense of it all.

The beginning through 3/4 of the book was a breeze to read. I was caught in Hua Hsu’s reflections on growing up listening to Nirvana and feeling like a social outcast, who desired to be one because he was the ultimate “straight-edged” hipster. His friendship with Ken was sweet, as he was everything he is not, yet they found common ground. I loved reading about their growing friendship, navigating those years, what it was like in the dorms and college life, and summers away. It was simpler times, and it made me feel nostalgic for the East Bay myself.

Losing a friend is a very complicated and unique emotion, especially when it’s unwarranted. And Hua Hsu’s eye and observation capturing it all is special.

As a writer and journalist, writing for zines and writing responses to culture of the times, his moodiness and knack for being on the sidelines felt familiar.

I loved reading new things relevant to American and Asian American culture in the 1980s and 90s in the Bay Area. My music-loving self also loved all the music and hip-hop references, bringing me to that time and era. Music is so embedded and linked to our memories/ histories, ya?

It’s a touching read, and obviously a labor of love, with a lot of little quotes and moments I often go back to and ponder on, with a smile, a laugh, as it tells of a poignant little truth, sadness, or fond memory… like memories of remembering your own youth, searching for meaning, and making sense of it all through all the things you identify with.

“I was an American child, and I was bored, and I was searching for my people.”

It was beautiful to read how he searched for himself, his people, and the memory of his dear friend, throughout.

With love and honesty,

Rachel