Well, the book was a bit heavy-handed with the death of his Korean-American son and the fact that he is a private spy who is spying on Asian-Americans - supposed to be metaphorical, but did't really speak to me. However, I really did like the portrayal of his parents, John Kwang, the immigrant neighborhoods of NY, and his wife's speech therapy students. He did manage to capture the feeling of living on the edge as a 2nd generation ethnic American very well.

This is a brilliant, thoughtful, subject-packed, angst-riddled, almost-noir, teeters-on-the-edge-of-soap-opera, and finally, an excellent literary first novel by a very wise writer, Chang-Rae Lee. 'Native Speaker' is powerful and superb.

It is one of those novels where its strengths are also its weaknesses.

Ostensibly, this is narrated by a very depressed second-generation American, Korean-American Henry Park. Park is separated from his wife, separated from his son, separated from his Korean-born father and mother, separated from both American and Korean culture, but most of all, separated from himself.

Park is a spy who works for a private business called Glimmer & Company. Glimmer specializes in personal betrayal and deceit: the operatives dig into a person's conversation, make friends with the target, even volunteer to babysit - and report what they find to paying clients, who can be multicultural corporations, foreign governments, or individuals with resources. Some of their targets are political activists, unions and journalists. Sometimes the targets die.

The boss of Glimmer & Company, Dennis Hoagland, assigns the operatives to spy on specific targets by race. The spies report to an ordinary office in an ordinary business building with real estate brokers and doctors. The spies banter and drink together, but there is no real friendship. Park is closest to Jack Kalantzakos, a native Greek of retirement age, who is rumored to have been a CIA agent. Jack appears to like Park, but it is understood that the job always comes first.

Park is as middle-class as any American, but he is also trained from childhood in the machine-cog behaviors of Asian cultures. In Korean life (per the authority of this book, written by Korean-American Chang-Rae Lee), demonstrative family affection is further down the list of important qualities than where Americans place it. Swallowing unexpressed hurts and demonstrating polite ritualized frozen respect are marks of a superior Asian person. Revenge is cold when it is expressed. The best revenge may be primarily through even more intense polite ritual. Since stoicism is also high on the list of proper behavior for Koreans, determined heavily by the necessities of saving face and hierarchical place, many disruptive family difficulties follow when Park marries a white emotionally-demonstrative American 'relief worker', Lelia.

Lelia is a speech therapist, helping the foreign-born to learn English, but in spite of her knowledge of forming communicative words she can't understand some of the invisible fractures of communication between herself and her husband Park. Their son, Mitt, is a shaky bridge between them, an ecstatic little boy of positive energy, good looks and 100% American-trained by mutual agreement. Mitt does get a pass-through education in Korean manners on an occasional basis.

Spoiler

Unfortunately, Mitt is literally crushed to death, suffocated under a pile of dozens of little white boys. These small children are all of middle-class suburban mowed-grass-lawn American-born neighbors, playing the game of 'pile on'. Poor Mitt is literally smothered by metaphoric American culture and by the hopes of fitting into America by his Korean father and white mother.

Lelia makes a tremendous effort to understand Korean culture, but discovers without a common cultural background she has no way to get an explanation for events she sees. I think even if she had been able to understand the cultural nuances, there would still have been shocked horror on both sides.

As a native American, I cannot understand the rigidity of these formal Asian families. I see it, I've read about it, I understand that the shame of breaking taboos can be such that people commit suicide over some kinds of 'loss of face', but it is completely beyond my ability to really 'understand' some of the things defined by 'face'. Americans have rigidities of keeping face, too, just not so many or such strident feelings about it, generally (unless you are a neo-Republican or a Fundamentalist or Tea Party member). To me, 'face' is a huge waste of time and lives, and a source of endless agony in a world where there already is plenty of that. Of course, traditional Asians, I've read, see us as impulsive, childish, selfish bigots. All of us, whatever race we are, are probably right in some of our general biases and stereotypes, but wrong in the importance of them as contributing factors to any general success or failure.

From where I'm standing, I think despite this book whining on (or whinging -I kinda like the British word whinging) for 350 pages about the pain and disassociation of being a half-whatever racially and culturally, the underlying message is that our genetic, cultural and social baggage is ONLY baggage. In the end, cultural baggage is only overwhelmingly heavy if we pack it too tightly with significance. We can throw out what we don't need, or tailor things to fit better. If we try to carry a weight beyond our abilities or metaphorically wear suits that fit our father's bodies, being emotionally crippled, smothered, and 'missing the boat' is sure to result.

Spoiler

Lelia moves back in with Henry, mostly because their love for each other overpowers Lelia's mind about divorce, and because Henry has evolved beyond his job with Glimmer & Company. Park has a huge 'glimmer' of enlightenment after discovering the revengeful ugliness inside one of his spy job targets - Kwang. Kwang is supposedly a family man, social activist and a 'good' politician. Park also finally sees that the emptiness of empty people like the spies who routinely betray everyone they meet cannot possibly lead to any emotional fulfillment or satisfaction.

Of course, Park is not ready for this message for most of the book, wanting only interior oblivion and a living death for himself. He pretends to not touch and to be untouched by people's concerns, floating above all trouble by pretending he has no allegiances or socially ethical concerns. His choice of working for the deeply disturbing spy agency, which involves getting close to Asian individuals who inevitably disclose secrets about personal weaknesses or ethical lapses, then typing up the dirt he uncovered and turning the information over to third parties in order to destroy the sometimes wonderful and heroic individuals, is glided over by Park.

If you really think about this, this is exactly the kind of job which gives a kind of relief from the mental pressure a severely repressed, self-hating Asian and emotionally damaged man would have. This spy job would give Park the surface dulled-numbness he was seeking, while also unconsciously expressing his contempt and hatred for rigid social conventions. However, like most rage-based but suppressed emotional decisions, Park was throwing the baby out with the bathwater. The death of one if his targets, Dr. Luzon, woke Park up to awareness that his job had consequences. Another target, the Korean Kwang, and Kwang's secrets, and their half-exposure, helped Park separate the differences between the hidden real love/support of his own traditional Korean father and the false affection/support of Kwang. Park could finally sort out what had been all mashed up together inside himself - Korean culture, his love and respect for his father and mother, respect towards and disgust with Korean-ness, and the pain of American half-hearted acceptance of Asian Americans because of differing facial features despite whatever other Americanized qualities.

.

Park was working for Glimmer & Company before he met Lilia, benumbed. The job eventually poisons his relationship with Lilia because of its policies for enforced secrecy, but Park felt unable to quit the job. He was making a choice by not making a choice. The birth of his son Mitt temporarily put the job on a back burner as an issue between Lilia and himself, but it comes roaring back later.

For Lilia, the intolerable issues were not Park's Korean race or the traditions of his culture alone, it was Park's inability to communicate his inner life in any language.

Spoiler

I think Park used his job to hide the guilty feelings he was experiencing for betraying his father by hating/loving him for his 'Koreaness', and his friends from Korea. Cultural roles encouraged denials of any open human emotions between them. Henry really needed therapy, but instead he chose a numbing, creepy, soul-killing job. It was completely plausible that his damaged psychology meant he did not turn in Kwang for murdering his adopted 'son' Eduardo. No doubt this incident helped free Henry from his internal demons by both releasing him from his unconscious guilt about hating his father, and feeling as if he required punishment for that.

This is a truly a psychologically complex and interesting read. The exploration of the intersection of traditional Korean immigrants who wish to live under SOME American cultural traditions and the more complete assimilation by their American-born children, with the additional difficulties of rejection from white Americans, is easily made into universal themes by the author.

Lee focused the book on Park's initial grasping at American middle-class, educated values - marrying him off to an American white woman, living in a suburban home, going to an American college and having Americanized friendships. Mitt, his beloved and adored son, was being raised completely American, with no traditional rituals between him and his parents. It made it easier for this reader to 'understand' Henry. However, I think that Henry, in doing such evil spying even if he never killed anyone, he certainly was providing bullets for the weapons of others who did not believe in American idealism. Yes, Henry probably was unconsciously paying back America for hurting him. Yes, he was as well slapping away his Korean heritage. Henry having a twisted inner psychology Is well established - but I couldn't quite buy that sensitive and tortured Henry could be this insensitive for the many years he worked as a spy, causing possible assassinations or blackmail, and derailing freedom movements. This kind of hate eats up the person in time. Henry never fell apart that way, nor was he fearful until the end. Eh. It was a minor quibble.

I really liked this book, but it didn't always fit together. Is it a domestic story about a son and his father, interracial marriage and cultural assimilation? Mostly. Was it a political noir? Almost. A case can be made it fit in some elements which damaged the messages Lee wanted to talk about. The thriller inclusions, brief as they were, felt wrong. But I liked it. So perhaps it should be a four star, but I thought it was a genius effort. So there. Five stars.

Not the most sympathetic main character ever (Henry Park is a bit cold), but ultimately, I found the unusual mix of immigrant, troubled marriage, and spy stories to be an interesting mix.

There is a lot to like here.

Deeply reflective, thoughtful, informative and well written. Not so much a page turner as something to sink into and enjoy. Technically it's a spy novel, but that's mostly just setting. The focus is largely on language, politics, identity and the experience of immigrants into the U.S..

“But now, I think I would give most anything to hear my father’s talk again, the crash and bang and stop of his language, always hurtling by. I will listen for him forever in the streets of this city. I want to hear the rest of them, too, especially the disbelieving cries and shouts of those who were taken away. I will bear whatever sentence they wish to rain on me, all the volleys of their prayers and curses.”

Bought this after seeing Chang-rae on a list of recommended authors for Asian / Pacific - American Heritage Month. This got off to a slow start, but wound up being a fascinating mystery combined with a powerful meditation on the immigrant experience - very timely in light of today's headlines.