R. F. KuangFantasy · Fiction·b. 1996
Yellowface
Synopsis
June Hayward and Athena Liu were supposed to be twin rising stars of the literary world. Instead, Athena is a wildly successful, critically adored Chinese American novelist, and June is a struggling white writer no one remembers.
When Athena dies in a freak accident, June impulsively steals her just-finished manuscript, a sweeping novel about the Chinese laborers of the First World War, and revises and publishes it as her own, under the racially ambiguous pen name Juniper Song. The book is a smash, and June finally has the fame she believes she deserves.
But the lie is fragile. As readers, journalists, and the internet begin to probe the story's origins, accusations of plagiarism and cultural appropriation gather, and June is pulled into a spiral of justification, paranoia, and escalating deceit.
Narrated entirely in June's slippery, self-serving first-person voice, this contemporary novel is a sharp, propulsive satire of the publishing industry, performative diversity, racism, and the outrage machine of social media. It is Kuang's first departure from fantasy, turning her eye on the very business that made her, and on who gets to tell which stories.
How it reads
Prose complexity 7/10
Readers say (1)Moderate · Moderate · Tense · Dark · Mysterious
Readers flagged (1)
Trauma
- I went into this completely blind. No blurb, no reviews, no idea what genre I was even picking up. I’d just seen it everywhere and figured there must be a reason people kept recommending it. Turns out, going in blind was probably the best way to experience this one. I really enjoyed the look behind the curtain of being a published author: the pressure to succeed, the constant comparison to friends and acquaintances, the jealousy, the secrets, and the lengths people will go to when they’re desperate to stay relevant. It’s fascinating watching ambition and insecurity turn into something much uglier. What made it even more interesting was the exploration of race, cultural identity and who gets to tell whose stories. It digs into the publishing industry’s treatment of marginalised voices, the way diversity can become a marketing strategy, and the uncomfortable question of whether someone can claim a story that isn’t theirs to tell. It’s messy, provocative and makes you question where the line between inspiration, appropriation and outright theft actually sits. A really enjoyable read that had me thinking about the publishing industry, the stories we consume, and the people who get to profit from telling them. I’m glad I knew absolutely nothing going in.
- This one made me feel the exact same way I felt while reading How to Kill Your Family. Juniper is such an unlikeable character, but somehow I couldn’t stop following her story. There were moments when I was actually rooting for her, and then five pages later I’d be thinking, “Girl… what are you doing?” 😭 I even found myself feeling sorry for her at times, which I really wasn’t expecting. The writing is so engaging. It’s fast-paced, addictive, and never felt boring. I also loved that the story takes us behind the scenes of the publishing world. It’s such a niche setting, and I found it fascinating to read about the pressure, competition, and everything that goes into being an author. It made the story feel so fresh and different. 💛
- <div>This book is a sharp, scathing dive into the world of publishing, offering a fascinating and subversive look at racism, cultural appropriation, and the moral gray areas that arise in creative industries. Kuang doesn’t shy away from making readers uncomfortable, challenging us to grapple with big questions that are hard to answer confidently or neatly. </div><div> </div><div>From the very first chapter, the story had its hooks in me—it’s gripping, provocative, and nearly impossible to put down. <em>Yellowface</em> is as much a thriller as it is a thought experiment, and it left me questioning and reflecting long after I turned the final page. A compelling and thought-provoking read. </div><div><br></div>
- Rating this somewhere between 3 and 4. This was good but at the same time, I don't know... For me, first-person narratives are very hit or miss, and it depends a lot on the narrator/character. In this case, the narrator, June, is extremely annoying (among everything else). At some points, the book seemed to be just tweets and about Twitter hate trains, and it was driving me mad. In the second half, the story gets more interesting plot-wise and for me, that elevated the book as well. Besides all of that, I like that it is a commentary on race, privilege, and cultural appropriation, which can apply to various industries, specially in the entertainment field.
- 3.5/5 I can't recall reading something so morally grey in ages. What a ride! Though it was a bit longer than it needed to be especially at the end, and it became a bit repetitive. I always entertained the thought that maybe someday somehow I'll write something, but after reading this book, I feel so banal
- <div>WHAT??????</div>