Little Fires Everywhere

I decided to read this book after it was recommended to me by a few of my high school students. I began watching the Hulu series after finishing the book. Just as a general FYI, the Hulu series takes so many liberties with Ng's story that it is almost an entirely different narrative.

At the core of this book are two characters—Elena and Mia—who represent two different worldviews about what constitutes the "good life." Elena is the obsessively organized, upper-class woman who believes in behaving morally (or following the rules) primarily out of fear of being punished. In this case, the punishment would be making the "wrong choices" that would lead to an undesirable socioeconomic livelihood. That she follows the rules for fear of being punished is a key distinction, because Elena is the type of person who will maintain the appearance of being a "good person" and "doing the right thing," while not finding it beneath her to stoop to questionable activities in her private life that technically transgress moral and ethical boundaries.

Mia, on the other hand, is a single mother and an eccentric artist who seems to reject all of the middle-class, suburban strictures that Elena cherishes. I suppose Mia and her daughter Pearl are African-American or perhaps Asian (I cannot remember if the book is really clear on this point), but themes revolving around race and white privilege are no where near as pronounced in this book as they are in the Hulu series. In reality, its neither here nor there, because what Mia really represents is someone who seems to flaunt or ignore all the requirements of the "good life" according to Elena—a nuclear family, a stable household, stable employment—yet nevertheless seems to find happiness and successfully raise a well-adjusted and articulate daughter. Although Elena seems to perceive Mia as being immoral, in reality the two women operate under the same governing principle of taking actions that protect themselves or their families even though in the abstract these moves are quite unethical.

Mia and Elena represent extremes at both ends of the spectrum, but function in ways that we can find both familiar and revolting depending on our particular perspective as the reader. It is likely that readers can identify with many aspects of each character's moral worldview while rejecting other parts.

Another major theme in this book that I found quite illuminating as a parent is the question of whether our children are ever really our own. I do not mean this in the biological sense—although the distinction between biological motherhood and adoptive motherhood are important in the context of the book—but more in the sense of do we really ever have control or "ownership" over our children as they age? How should parents best ensure their children's happiness? Can they prevent bad outcomes? Mia and Elena are both unsettled, to a certain degree, because each of them have a daughter who finds the other mother more appealing. Pearl (Mia's daughter) is drawn to Elena's grounded, stable motherhood and willingness to openly show affection. Izzy (Elena's youngest daughter) is drawn to Mia's rebellious, cut against the grain persona and her artistic inclinations. In both cases, each mother is finding it difficult to balance their intense love for their children against the knowledge that their children are maturing into young adults and deciding whether to adopt or reject the moral, ethical, and social worldview of their parents. Of course, all of this is set against the backdrop of baby May Ling/Mirabelle whose custody battle between the biological and adoptive mothers raises an entirely new set of questions about the definition of motherhood.

This is a good read. On the surface, it appears to be a straightforward, banal and slightly dystopic criticism of suburban conformity in white America, but upon a closer examination can raise important questions in ourselves about a) what it means to live a "good life" and b) what it means to be a parent and the dynamic between parents and older children.

 [a:Celeste Ng|164692|Celeste Ng|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1404857644p2/164692.jpg]'s [b:Little Fires Everywhere|34273236|Little Fires Everywhere|Celeste Ng|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1522684533l/34273236.SY75.jpg|52959357] is the most fun I've had reading in ages. I'd feared it was going to one of those books about an Asian American struggling to find his or her place in America, difficulties with traditionally minded parents and all that. There's nothing wrong with such books, but I've read enough of them and I was glad to find that this wasn't another.
 Ng writes about teenagers and women well. The adult male characters are a little thin, but given that they're usually absent from the home scene due to work, it's understandable.
 Ng's prose is fluid and a pleasure to read, though at times sounds a little old fashioned to me, with phrases like "before her very eyes." The only tiny error I found was a description of someone looking at a photograph closely, "as if he might find the answer between the pixels," an impossibility in a photograph taken and printed in 1982. (How do copy editors miss stuff like that?) I also don't think people were using the word "robocall" in 1997 as casually as a character does here; the first known use of the word had only been four years before then and it was not in wide use.
 My biases. The novel takes place in Shaker Heights, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland. I'm not from there but I went to college in Ohio and I had friends who were. Also, I liked reading about people in the suburbs, something I don't much these days.

Now, almost two decades later, well settled in their careers and their family and their lives, as he filled up his BMW with premium gas, or cleaned his golf clubs, or signed a permission form for his children to go skiing, those college days seemed fuzzy and distant as old Polaroids. Elena, too, had mellowed: of course she still donated to charity and voted Democrat, but so many years of comfortable suburban living had changed both of them. Neither of them had ever been radical—even at a time of protests, sit-ins, marches, riots—but now they owned two houses, four cars, a small boat they docked at the marina downtown. They had someone to plow the snow in the winter and mow the lawn in the summer. And of course they'd had a housekeeper for years, a long string of them, and now here was the newest, this young woman in his kitchen, waiting for him to leave so she could clean his house.

I don't know why I checked out this book. I had seen it on several "best of" lists, and I needed to pick something quickly for my ride to work...but this is not a book I would normally check out. The whole "suburban family life turned upside down by the arrival of an unconventional person" cliche does not appeal to me.

However, that's not what this story was about...not totally. Or maybe it is...I don't know. All I know is that it sucked me in and I'm still trying to figure out why. I've read some great books with superb writing and character development, but it has been a long time since I have been sitting in my car not wanting to get out so I can listen for just a few minutes more. I guess maybe because the story is so unexpected - I thought it was going to explore one dynamic and then it went somewhere else completely. And it made me really think about what it means to be a parent.

Long story short - I highly recommend it.

Mothers and daughters and their interactions. All sorts of mothers - biological, adoptive, and virtual. There are men and boys in the book as well, but they are mainly placeholders. The novel is really all about the women and girls.

The novel is set in Shaker Heights, Ohio (where Ng grew up, although she was born in Pittsburgh) in the 90's. Ng is of the generation of the teenagers in the book, while I would be the same age as the mothers.

Mrs Richardson seems at first to be Lady Bountiful, distributing largess to the deserving needy, but is gradually revealed to be the Witch Mother from Hell, secure in her own knowledge of what is right and proper and manipulating and controlling everyone around her. Mia on the other hand, is a Wise Woman, a nomadic artist, poor and rootless, but with the gift of seeing the deep inner essence of everyone she meets, and the knowledge of how to prick it out to the surface. They meet and mingle for a while, then, inevitably, clash and part ways.

The novel ends abruptly, with each of the teenagers pointed in a different direction. But you're left wondering where each will end up, and how they'll live their adult lives.