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Sour Heart
Cover of Sour Heart
Sour Heart
Stories
A sly debut story collection that conjures the experience of adolescence through the eyes of Chinese American girls growing up in New York City—for readers of Zadie Smith and Helen Oyeyemi.
Winner of the Los Angeles Times Book Prize • Winner of the PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize for Debut Fiction • Finalist for the New York Public Library’s Young Lions Fiction Award

NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY The New Yorker • NPR • O: The Oprah MagazineThe GuardianEsquireNew York • BuzzFeed
A fresh new voice emerges with the arrival of Sour Heart, establishing Jenny Zhang as a frank and subversive interpreter of the immigrant experience in America. Her stories cut across generations and continents, moving from the fraught halls of a public school in Flushing, Queens, to the tumultuous streets of Shanghai, China, during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s. In the absence of grown-ups, latchkey kids experiment on each other until one day the experiments turn violent; an overbearing mother abandons her artistic aspirations to come to America but relives her glory days through karaoke; and a shy loner struggles to master English so she can speak to God.
Narrated by the daughters of Chinese immigrants who fled imperiled lives as artists back home only to struggle to stay afloat—dumpster diving for food and scamming Atlantic City casino buses to make a buck—these seven stories showcase Zhang’s compassion, moral courage, and a perverse sense of humor reminiscent of Portnoy’s Complaint. A darkly funny and intimate rendering of girlhood, Sour Heart examines what it means to belong to a family, to find your home, leave it, reject it, and return again.
Praise for Sour Heart
“[Jenny Zhang’s] coming-of-age tales are coarse and funny, sweet and sour, told in language that’s rough-hewn yet pulsating with energy.”USA Today
“One of the knockout fiction debuts of the year.”—New York
“Compelling writing about what it means to be a teenager . . . It’s brilliant, it’s dark, but it’s also humorous and filled with love.”Isaac Fitzgerald, Today
“[A] combustible collection . . . in a class of its own.”—Booklist (starred review)
“Gorgeous and grotesque . . . [a] tremendous debut.”Slate
A sly debut story collection that conjures the experience of adolescence through the eyes of Chinese American girls growing up in New York City—for readers of Zadie Smith and Helen Oyeyemi.
Winner of the Los Angeles Times Book Prize • Winner of the PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize for Debut Fiction • Finalist for the New York Public Library’s Young Lions Fiction Award

NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY The New Yorker • NPR • O: The Oprah MagazineThe GuardianEsquireNew York • BuzzFeed
A fresh new voice emerges with the arrival of Sour Heart, establishing Jenny Zhang as a frank and subversive interpreter of the immigrant experience in America. Her stories cut across generations and continents, moving from the fraught halls of a public school in Flushing, Queens, to the tumultuous streets of Shanghai, China, during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s. In the absence of grown-ups, latchkey kids experiment on each other until one day the experiments turn violent; an overbearing mother abandons her artistic aspirations to come to America but relives her glory days through karaoke; and a shy loner struggles to master English so she can speak to God.
Narrated by the daughters of Chinese immigrants who fled imperiled lives as artists back home only to struggle to stay afloat—dumpster diving for food and scamming Atlantic City casino buses to make a buck—these seven stories showcase Zhang’s compassion, moral courage, and a perverse sense of humor reminiscent of Portnoy’s Complaint. A darkly funny and intimate rendering of girlhood, Sour Heart examines what it means to belong to a family, to find your home, leave it, reject it, and return again.
Praise for Sour Heart
“[Jenny Zhang’s] coming-of-age tales are coarse and funny, sweet and sour, told in language that’s rough-hewn yet pulsating with energy.”USA Today
“One of the knockout fiction debuts of the year.”—New York
“Compelling writing about what it means to be a teenager . . . It’s brilliant, it’s dark, but it’s also humorous and filled with love.”Isaac Fitzgerald, Today
“[A] combustible collection . . . in a class of its own.”—Booklist (starred review)
“Gorgeous and grotesque . . . [a] tremendous debut.”Slate
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Excerpts-
  • From the book

    We Love You Crispina
     
    Back when my parents and I lived in Bushwick in a building sandwiched between a drug house and another drug house, the only difference being that the dealers in the one drug house were also the users and so more unpredictable, and in the other the dealers were never the users and so more shrewd—back in those days, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment so subpar that we woke up with flattened cockroaches in our bedsheets, sometimes three or four stuck on our elbows, and once I found fourteen of them pressed to my calves, and there was no beauty in shaking them off, though we strove for grace, swinging our arms in the air as if we were ballerinas. Back then, if one of us had to take a big dump, we would try to hold it in and run across the street to the bathroom in the Amoco station, which was often slippery from the neighborhood hoodlums who used it and sprayed their pee everywhere, and if more than one of us felt the stirrings of a major shit declaring its intention to see the world beyond our buttholes, then we were in trouble because it meant someone had to use our perpetually clogged toilet, which wasn’t capable of handling anything more than mice pellets, and we would have to dip into our supply of old toothbrushes and chopsticks to mash our king-sized shits into smaller pieces since we were too poor and too irresponsible back then to afford even a toilet plunger and though my mom and dad had put it on their list of “things we need to buy immediately or else we’ve just lost all human dignity,” somehow at the end of every month we’d be a hundred dollars short and couldn’t pay the gas bill in full, or we’d owe twenty dollars to a friend here and ten to a friend there and so on, until it all got so messy that I felt there was no way to really account for our woes, though secretly I blamed myself for instigating all our downward spirals, like the time I asked my father if he would buy me an ice-cream cone with sprinkles, which made him realize I had been waiting all month to ask and he felt so sorry for me that he decided to buy me not only an ice cream with sprinkles but a real rhinestone anklet that sure as hell was not on the list of “things we need to buy immediately or else we’ve just lost all human dignity,” and that was the sort of rhythm my family fell into—disastrous and depressing in our inability to get ahead—and that was why we were never able to afford a toilet plunger and why our butts were punished so severely in those years when it wasn’t as simple as, Hey, I’m going to take a crap now, see you in thirty seconds, it was more like, I’m going to take a crap now, where’s my coat and my shoes and also that shorter scarf that won’t dangle its way into the toilet and where’s the extra toilet paper in case the Indian guy forgot to stock the bathroom again (he always forgot), and later, when we finally moved, when we finally got the hell out of there, it still wasn’t simple either, but at least we could take shits at our own convenience, and that was nothing to forget about or diminish.
     
    Before Bushwick, we lived in East Flatbush (my parents and I called it E Flat because we loved the sound of E Flat on the piano and we liked recasting our world in a more beautiful, melodious light) for a year and a half on a short little street with lots of stoops that needed fixing. We knew everyone on our street, not by name or by way of actually talking to them, but we knew their faces and we knew to nod and mouth, “hi, hi, hi,” or sometimes just “hi, hi,” or “hi!” but always something.
    ...

About the Author-
  • Jenny Zhang is a poet and writer living in New York City.
Reviews-
  • Publisher's Weekly

    June 19, 2017
    The first collection of short stories by poet and essayist Zhang (Dear Jenny, We Are All Find) highlights the intersections between several Chinese and Taiwanese immigrant families living in and around New York City, all of whom are trying to bridge the gap between the old world they’ve left behind—forever altered by the Cultural Revolution—and the new lives that they are now trying to build for themselves in the United States. The daughter of two struggling immigrants recounts the early days of her family’s move from China to Brooklyn in “We Love You Crispina,” meticulously detailing the many hardships involved in starting out with nothing in a foreign place. These mostly adolescent female narrators attempt to make sense of their histories as passed down through possibly unreliable stories told to them by their elders. Annie, the narrator of “Our Mothers Before Them,” is regaled with tales about her parents’ artistic prowess back in China before they were forced to flee the dangerous political climate and work for meager wages in a country in which they do not feel welcome. And in “Why Were They Throwing Bricks?” a young girl named Stacy is told violent and horrific stories by her visiting grandmother about a China that Stacy has no memory of ever having lived in. Conflicts often arise between what these immigrant parents want for their children—the kind of life that is no longer available to them where they came from—and what these young women, all of whom feel the powerful yet complicated pull of family, end up wanting for themselves. Taken as a whole, these linked stories illuminate the complexities and contradictions of first-generation life in America. Zhang has a gift for sharp, impactful endings, and a poet’s ear for memorable detail.

  • Kirkus

    June 1, 2017
    A frank depiction of poverty and budding sexuality told through interconnected stories narrated by the daughters of Chinese immigrants.This first collection of short stories by Zhang, a poet (Dear Jenny, We Are All Find, 2012), focuses on immigration and the interiority of the teenage experience; she writes explicit scenes of sexual exploration and uncomfortable power plays among latchkey kids who are left at home unsupervised. In both "Our Mothers Before Them" and "The Empty the Empty the Empty," girls struggle with power over their own bodies and how they want to be touched. "The Evolution of My Brother" is narrated by a girl whose brother harms himself in an effort to test the limits of his body. Zhang focuses on the uncomfortable proximity of immigrants who live for years with little privacy. Through these young narrators' eyes, it appears that trauma "[makes] the traumatized person insufferable" to his or her own relatives. Zhang is most poignant when she allows herself to escape the confines of the teenage gaze, alluding to epiphanies that will come as these characters age and realize what they owe their parents. "It was only later, much, much, much later," one of the girls says, "that I understood and accepted that my parents paid for me to be free." Each story is narrated in the first person, so together they blur into a uniform mindset. Zhang's allusions to the complexity of the immigrant experience, the choicelessness of poverty, the diversity of marital relationships, and even the nightmarish fear of outsiders are limited by her consistent use of similar points of view. Graphic, uncomfortable situations sometimes substitute for complicated prose. Though bursting with possibility, these linked stories don't quite mature.

    COPYRIGHT(2017) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  • Booklist

    Starred review from July 1, 2017
    The narrators of Zhang's finely wrought debut collection are Chinese American girls and young women who pass through one another's classrooms, homes, and full-to-bursting apartments in New York City boroughs. Zhang, author of the poetry collection Dear Jenny, We Are All Find (2012), lets these daughters of scholars and artists, who in the 1990s take America up on its many slow-to-be-delivered promises, be gross and unkind, and swear exquisitely. They are deeply loved, and fear true terrors, like school bullies; their parents' high expectations for their futures; and the horrors, somewhat abstract to them, that their families have endured. Stacey, whose grandmother requires constant closeness during her visits to the U.S., realizes I was old enough to understand how one of trauma's many possible effects was to make the traumatized person insufferable. Christina, who shares with her mother a love for only the sourest fruits, narrates the first story, in which she is on the cusp of being sent back to relatives in Shanghai so that her parents can get their life in better order, and the last, where she is older and maybe finally accepting the phantom-limb feeling that is the immigrant's inheritance. Zhang's insightful, combustible collection is in a class of its own.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2017, American Library Association.)

  • Library Journal

    June 15, 2017

    DEBUT Poet and essayist Zhang's first foray into fiction consists of a collection of seven short stories. Each is narrated by a young female protagonist who shares her angst-ridden struggles as part of a different Chinese immigrant family growing up in New York during the 1990s. All works contain family themes, such as "The Evolution of My Brother," in which Jenny describes her relationship with her clingy younger brother, and in "Why Were They Throwing Bricks," in which a sister and her much younger brother adapt to their relationship with their grandmother who visits from China over a span of time. Additional motifs arise in "The Empty the Empty the Empty," which focuses on sexual experimentation and identity. Only the opening and closing pieces, "We Love You Crispina" and "You Fell into the River and I Saved You!," reference the same story line and characters. The youthful narration and Asian immigrant-centered themes are unlikely to appeal to a wide audience. Additionally, the brevity of each work and limited characterization will challenge readers. Yet Zhang successfully uses her characters to reflect a depth of emotion. VERDICT This book will best be appreciated by individuals who can relate to the hardships and family struggles of being part of an immigrant experience. [See Prepub Alert, 2/20/17.]--Shirley Quan, Orange Cty. P.L., Santa Ana, CA

    Copyright 2017 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

  • Library Journal

    March 15, 2017

    The inaugural offering in Lena Dunham and Jenni Konner's new imprint, this debut collection focuses on young women belonging to a community of immigrants who have abandoned dangerous lives as artists in China and Taiwan for poverty in 1990s New York City. They must reconcile with the burdens of the past (e.g., a grandmother's role in the Cultural Revolution) while acknowledging family ties and their own particular strengths.

    Copyright 2017 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

  • W Magazine "In her book Sour Heart, Jenny Zhang arrives as a Chinese-American voice we haven't heard yet. . . . The specificity and intense focus of her writing lends itself . . . to the stories in Sour Heart--to the different forms of fear and violence within its pages; the joys and thrills and cruelties traded among young girls; the way emotions and memories are transmitted across generations; how language--and its deficits--structure experience."
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