One of the most damning indictments of this cultural ignorance is encapsulated in a line that’s as biting as it is revealing: “I spent most of that class reading about Japanese art history, meaning tentacle porn, but it’s been a convenient cover story for questions like this.” This quote lays bare the shallow and often offensive stereotypes that are used to represent Asian cultures, reducing centuries of rich history and artistry to crude caricatures. Kuang uses this moment to illustrate the staggering ignorance that remains pervasive, even in supposedly enlightened circles.

Kuang’s narrative is an explosive critique of the literary world’s performative allyship. The industry’s eagerness to profit from the appearance of inclusivity, while continuing to marginalize genuine Asian voices, is laid bare with brutal honesty. June’s fraudulent success is not just a personal failing but a damning reflection of a system that rewards the theft and commodification of marginalized cultures. The novel forces readers to confront the uncomfortable truth that systemic racism is woven into the very fabric of our cultural institutions.

One of the most striking aspects of June’s character is her staggering hypocrisy. At one point, she declares, “But I’m going to be better than Athena. I am a woman who helps other women.” This claim rings hollow, especially considering that just a few chapters earlier, she had attempted to get a woman on her publishing staff, Candice, fired for allegedly writing a negative review of her book. This glaring contradiction exposes June’s performative feminism and self-serving nature, underscoring the superficiality of her proclaimed values.

Interestingly, June is consistently aware of her casual racism, as evidenced through her inner dialogue: “Stop looking through the white gaze.” Yet, this awareness doesn’t translate into action or change. Instead, she continues to perpetuate the same racist attitudes she recognizes, revealing a profound moral blindness and self-serving rationalization. This self-awareness juxtaposed with her continuous problematic behavior adds another layer of complexity to her character, making her a compelling yet deeply flawed protagonist.

One of the most troubling instances of June’s blatant racism is her interaction with a Chinese employee at a local Chinatown restaurant, which starkly highlights her dehumanizing perspective. June’s internal monologue reads, “His English is a lot better than I expected. His accent is heavy, but what kind of new English speaker uses the word ‘simulacrum’? I wonder briefly if these accents are put on to convey authenticity to white customers. I wonder also if he’s one of those professors or doctors who immigrated to the United States because he offended his home government. Either could be a fun plot twist. ‘So how long have you worked here?’” Her musings about his accent and potential past as a professor or doctor not only reflect her condescending attitude but also her inclination to view people as mere plot devices for her own narrative.

And then there’s June’s culinary ignorance. At one point, she complains, “The menu consists entirely of different kinds of soup dumplings. I don’t know what a soup dumpling is, but it sounds gross. The strong, musty, dumpster-like smell wafting from the kitchen doors is killing my appetite.” As a xiao long bao enthusiast, I felt personally attacked by this affront to the glorious soup dumpling. Seriously, who can resist the savory delight of a perfectly steamed xiao long bao? June’s disdain for this culinary treasure not only highlights her ignorance but also provides a moment of comic relief in an otherwise intense narrative.

Yellowface is a blistering, essential read that holds a mirror to society’s ugliest flaws. R.F. Kuang’s fearless storytelling and incisive critique compel us to question our assumptions and strive for a world where diversity is truly respected and celebrated. This novel is not just a story; it’s a passionate plea for justice and understanding, a powerful reminder that the fight against ignorance and appropriation is far from over. Kuang’s work is a beacon of truth in a world all too comfortable with comfortable lies.