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Seeing Ghosts: A Memoir
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Best Memoir & Autobiography (2021)For readers of Helen Macdonald and Elizabeth Alexander, an intimate and haunting portrait of grief and the search for meaning from a singular new talent as told through the prism of three generations of her Chinese American family.
Born two years after her parents' only son died just hours after his birth, Kat Chow became unusually fixated with death. She worried constantly about her parents dying -- especially her mother. One morning, when Kat was nine, her mother, a vivacious and mischievous woman, casually made a morbid joke: When she eventually dies, she said laughing, she'd like to be stuffed and displayed in Kat's future apartment in order to always watch over her.
Four years later when her mother dies unexpectedly from cancer, Kat, her two older sisters, and their father are plunged into a debilitating, lonely grief. With a distinct voice that is wry and heartfelt, Kat weaves together what is part ghost story and part excavation of her family's history of loss spanning three generations and their immigration from China and Hong Kong to America and Cuba. This redemptive coming-of-age story uncovers the uncanny parallels in Kat's lineage, including the strength of sisterhood and the complicated duty of looking after parents, even after death.
Seeing Ghosts asks what it means to claim and tell your family's story: Is writing an exorcism or is it its own form of preservation? What do we owe to our families in our grief, and how does it shape us? In order to answer these questions and to understand her family's ghosts, Kat unearths their sorrow and challenges the power structures of race, class, and gender. The result is an extraordinary new contribution to the literature of grief and the American family, and a provocative and transformative meditation on who we become under the specter of loss.
Born two years after her parents' only son died just hours after his birth, Kat Chow became unusually fixated with death. She worried constantly about her parents dying -- especially her mother. One morning, when Kat was nine, her mother, a vivacious and mischievous woman, casually made a morbid joke: When she eventually dies, she said laughing, she'd like to be stuffed and displayed in Kat's future apartment in order to always watch over her.
Four years later when her mother dies unexpectedly from cancer, Kat, her two older sisters, and their father are plunged into a debilitating, lonely grief. With a distinct voice that is wry and heartfelt, Kat weaves together what is part ghost story and part excavation of her family's history of loss spanning three generations and their immigration from China and Hong Kong to America and Cuba. This redemptive coming-of-age story uncovers the uncanny parallels in Kat's lineage, including the strength of sisterhood and the complicated duty of looking after parents, even after death.
Seeing Ghosts asks what it means to claim and tell your family's story: Is writing an exorcism or is it its own form of preservation? What do we owe to our families in our grief, and how does it shape us? In order to answer these questions and to understand her family's ghosts, Kat unearths their sorrow and challenges the power structures of race, class, and gender. The result is an extraordinary new contribution to the literature of grief and the American family, and a provocative and transformative meditation on who we become under the specter of loss.
368 pages, Hardcover
First published August 24, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 494 reviews
April 12, 2021
All the stars! The highest rating! A very good book, from a very, very biased reader.
September 18, 2021
when i first started seeing ghosts, i was slightly worried by the unfortunate timing of its release, as it shares a number of unlucky similarities with the well-loved 2021 memoir crying in h mart: it's a life-spanning memoir written by an east asian woman as she struggles to find a foothold in the midst of her mother's cancer diagnosis (and subsequent death). but these are only surface-level similarities.
by contrast, seeing ghosts is steeped in ambiguity. for most of the mother-specific memory unraveling, details are unspecific, insubstantial hypotheticals—sometimes total creative conjecture about reanimated spirits—so that readers are constantly inundated with phrases like, "i imagine..." and, "i can picture..."
while this threw me for a loop for the first 50 or so pages, i grew to really enjoy this little idiosyncrasy. i think it does well to subvert memoir conventions of accuracy and creative embellishment. it also feels true to chow's diasporic experience of her lineage. over the course of the memoir, she tries to fight the facts of her and her family's existence into submission by locating them. at times, this task is impossible. at times, it requires guesswork. at times, the task is impeded by language barriers, or cultural history, or the death of essential members of her family who she hadn't thought to seek out for questions like these until it was too late.
this narrative ambiguity is sometimes set beside conversations chow transcribes verbatim, videos she's taken and written out, documents or research she's discovered to aid in her memory reconstruction. i think that was one of the most enthralling parts of this memoir.
and while the deeply personal portrait of a daughter's grief seems like an unlucky publishing parallel to michelle zauner's early 2021 release, it is by no means explored in a similar fashion. here, chow's father—in all his eccentricities—takes center stage. he is lovingly wrought, even as chow grapples with the part he's played in her own suffering, and his own journey to rediscover his roots near the end of seeing ghosts was particularly engaging. i loved the cuban-chinese history weaved through the narrative, i loved the slowburn characterization of chow's sisters and father, and though the grief surrounding her mother was puzzlingly obscure, there was a certain relief—and an even starker kind of grief—to the notion of not knowing enough to detail the last moments of your mother's life.
this is a memoir you have to wade through slowly to understand its full effects. it's gorgeous once you do, and illuminating, and mournful, and also beautifully free.
by contrast, seeing ghosts is steeped in ambiguity. for most of the mother-specific memory unraveling, details are unspecific, insubstantial hypotheticals—sometimes total creative conjecture about reanimated spirits—so that readers are constantly inundated with phrases like, "i imagine..." and, "i can picture..."
while this threw me for a loop for the first 50 or so pages, i grew to really enjoy this little idiosyncrasy. i think it does well to subvert memoir conventions of accuracy and creative embellishment. it also feels true to chow's diasporic experience of her lineage. over the course of the memoir, she tries to fight the facts of her and her family's existence into submission by locating them. at times, this task is impossible. at times, it requires guesswork. at times, the task is impeded by language barriers, or cultural history, or the death of essential members of her family who she hadn't thought to seek out for questions like these until it was too late.
this narrative ambiguity is sometimes set beside conversations chow transcribes verbatim, videos she's taken and written out, documents or research she's discovered to aid in her memory reconstruction. i think that was one of the most enthralling parts of this memoir.
and while the deeply personal portrait of a daughter's grief seems like an unlucky publishing parallel to michelle zauner's early 2021 release, it is by no means explored in a similar fashion. here, chow's father—in all his eccentricities—takes center stage. he is lovingly wrought, even as chow grapples with the part he's played in her own suffering, and his own journey to rediscover his roots near the end of seeing ghosts was particularly engaging. i loved the cuban-chinese history weaved through the narrative, i loved the slowburn characterization of chow's sisters and father, and though the grief surrounding her mother was puzzlingly obscure, there was a certain relief—and an even starker kind of grief—to the notion of not knowing enough to detail the last moments of your mother's life.
this is a memoir you have to wade through slowly to understand its full effects. it's gorgeous once you do, and illuminating, and mournful, and also beautifully free.
January 29, 2022
Audiobook….read by the author Kat Chow
…..9 hours and 54 minutes
Kat Chow, Chinese-American journalist, has written a beautiful debut memoir about the loss of her mother — a profound debut examining love, loss, and grief
We learn about her relationship with her father, sister, and the death of a brother during a premature birth, as Kat struggles to comprehend her mother’s death.
Kat’s mother was born in China and immigrated to America to attend college where she met her father.
Kat shared about how lonely and isolating it felt after her mother died of cancer, because each of their family members grieved privately and quietly.
The audiobook was terrific—
Kat Chow’s stories were ruthless and honest…
They were funny parts.
Sad parts.
Her voice was easy to be with.
It’s so well written and ‘read’ —I was left with much love for Kat Chow….
wanting to thank her for telling her stories…. her grief… her truths.
It’s also impossible not to reflect on our own losses….parents, family, joys struggles, infractions, regrets of the past.
Emotions are restrained enough — but we feel them anyway - to make this audiobook a wonderful walking companion.
…..9 hours and 54 minutes
Kat Chow, Chinese-American journalist, has written a beautiful debut memoir about the loss of her mother — a profound debut examining love, loss, and grief
We learn about her relationship with her father, sister, and the death of a brother during a premature birth, as Kat struggles to comprehend her mother’s death.
Kat’s mother was born in China and immigrated to America to attend college where she met her father.
Kat shared about how lonely and isolating it felt after her mother died of cancer, because each of their family members grieved privately and quietly.
The audiobook was terrific—
Kat Chow’s stories were ruthless and honest…
They were funny parts.
Sad parts.
Her voice was easy to be with.
It’s so well written and ‘read’ —I was left with much love for Kat Chow….
wanting to thank her for telling her stories…. her grief… her truths.
It’s also impossible not to reflect on our own losses….parents, family, joys struggles, infractions, regrets of the past.
Emotions are restrained enough — but we feel them anyway - to make this audiobook a wonderful walking companion.
August 26, 2021
Thank you to Grand Central Pub and NetGalley for my advanced reading/listening copies of this book.
I highly recommend the audio if you love listening to authors reading their books as well, especially for the pronunciation of the Chinese words she shares.
Last night, Kat Chow sat down with Chanel Miller (hulllo, DREAM DUO ANYONE?) to discuss the book and a part that really resonated with me was the pair discussing how Kat described her mother’s goofy & mischievous nature; which is different than how Asian mothers are typically portrayed and this really reminded me of my mom.
If you’ve been here for a while, you know that I’m the kind of person who will cry over a commercial but have only cried in ONE book before (hi Namesake) but, I cried in this one, put it down for a bit, and called my mom (who didn’t answer ASAP and then gave me a cheeky answer I think Kat and her mom would enjoy). I think that speaks volumes at how hauntingly beautiful Kat’s writing is and how deeply connected readers will feel reading her book.
This book might have hit me the way it did as I saw the similarities between Kat’s mother-daughter relationship in my own (the Cantonese words likely played a bit part in that, see comments for a few translations to enhance your reading), but will also truly resonate with anyone. This has been added to my list of fave memoirs.
On that note, there’s a small passage that I’ll end this review on—re: Kat’s dad discussing how he missed his wife taking care of him (i.e., cutting her fruit for dessert, page 294) and it might not mean much to all, but I’m leaving it here because it really got me:
“Almost anyone with a Chinese mother knows this small gesture usually means love.”
I highly recommend the audio if you love listening to authors reading their books as well, especially for the pronunciation of the Chinese words she shares.
Last night, Kat Chow sat down with Chanel Miller (hulllo, DREAM DUO ANYONE?) to discuss the book and a part that really resonated with me was the pair discussing how Kat described her mother’s goofy & mischievous nature; which is different than how Asian mothers are typically portrayed and this really reminded me of my mom.
If you’ve been here for a while, you know that I’m the kind of person who will cry over a commercial but have only cried in ONE book before (hi Namesake) but, I cried in this one, put it down for a bit, and called my mom (who didn’t answer ASAP and then gave me a cheeky answer I think Kat and her mom would enjoy). I think that speaks volumes at how hauntingly beautiful Kat’s writing is and how deeply connected readers will feel reading her book.
This book might have hit me the way it did as I saw the similarities between Kat’s mother-daughter relationship in my own (the Cantonese words likely played a bit part in that, see comments for a few translations to enhance your reading), but will also truly resonate with anyone. This has been added to my list of fave memoirs.
On that note, there’s a small passage that I’ll end this review on—re: Kat’s dad discussing how he missed his wife taking care of him (i.e., cutting her fruit for dessert, page 294) and it might not mean much to all, but I’m leaving it here because it really got me:
“Almost anyone with a Chinese mother knows this small gesture usually means love.”
June 17, 2021
There's this meme about grief that's floating around the internet. It's a picture of two scenarios: First, a large black sphere in a glass jar diminishing over time to the size of a marble. Then, below it, the large black sphere stays the exact same size as the jar enlarges around it.
It's captioned: "People tend to believe that grief shrinks over time. What really happens is that we grow around our grief."
I've read many memoirs, some of them about grief. They often center around trauma as an immediate event. The shocking and debilitating repercussions. Kat Chow's memoir is one that spans a lifetime, several if you count the lives of her family members, which I do. "Seeing Ghosts" is an emotionally generous, intricately researched look at what grief looks like as you grow around it. As you continue to live your life with the presence of those you've lost.
As I read "Seeing Ghosts," it struck me how few experiences I've had with Cantonese American literature. When was the last time I read "Lei sik dzo fan mei a?" or "Wah, gum guay!" in a book? When was the last time I read an "immigrant narrative" that didn't deify older parents but instead tried to really thoroughly investigate them for who they are – and who they might be hiding from their children? Using humor and horror, Kat Chow does not glamorize this experience, nor does she wallow in it as a guilt trip.
Is writing an exorcism or is it its own form of preservation? To me, "Seeing Ghosts" is a pouring of libations. For those who have experienced loss, this cup never empties.
It's captioned: "People tend to believe that grief shrinks over time. What really happens is that we grow around our grief."
I've read many memoirs, some of them about grief. They often center around trauma as an immediate event. The shocking and debilitating repercussions. Kat Chow's memoir is one that spans a lifetime, several if you count the lives of her family members, which I do. "Seeing Ghosts" is an emotionally generous, intricately researched look at what grief looks like as you grow around it. As you continue to live your life with the presence of those you've lost.
As I read "Seeing Ghosts," it struck me how few experiences I've had with Cantonese American literature. When was the last time I read "Lei sik dzo fan mei a?" or "Wah, gum guay!" in a book? When was the last time I read an "immigrant narrative" that didn't deify older parents but instead tried to really thoroughly investigate them for who they are – and who they might be hiding from their children? Using humor and horror, Kat Chow does not glamorize this experience, nor does she wallow in it as a guilt trip.
Is writing an exorcism or is it its own form of preservation? To me, "Seeing Ghosts" is a pouring of libations. For those who have experienced loss, this cup never empties.
December 12, 2021
based on the back-of-the-book synopsis, i was going into this memoir expecting it to be a story about mother & daughter(s), and the grief of losing a loved one too soon
what i got was a story that largely centered chow's relationship with her father, and the intricacies of their relationship both before and after her mom's passing
so many moments in this memoir felt so raw and painful, small moments between father and daughter that echoed in my mind long after i read them. chow really has a way of taking what one person might see as an unimportant memory and weaving it into a longer narrative that breaks your heart (her sister even teases her for seemingly never forgetting anything and holding onto things forever)
chow's mother of course makes appearances throughout the book but is not the central figure i thought she would be. that's not a negative aspect, just something i wasn't expecting.
i ultimately loved the direction the book took with its exploration of immigration and family ties, and the duty we feel to our parents even after they're gone
what i got was a story that largely centered chow's relationship with her father, and the intricacies of their relationship both before and after her mom's passing
so many moments in this memoir felt so raw and painful, small moments between father and daughter that echoed in my mind long after i read them. chow really has a way of taking what one person might see as an unimportant memory and weaving it into a longer narrative that breaks your heart (her sister even teases her for seemingly never forgetting anything and holding onto things forever)
chow's mother of course makes appearances throughout the book but is not the central figure i thought she would be. that's not a negative aspect, just something i wasn't expecting.
i ultimately loved the direction the book took with its exploration of immigration and family ties, and the duty we feel to our parents even after they're gone
April 12, 2021
I loved this book from beginning to end and I'm so grateful to Kat for writing this and for asking the questions central in this book. What do we owe our parents? What do we owe our dead? And how do we craft ourselves in spaces that emerge after loss?
This is an important, instrumental book: Kat masterfully writes not just of her own loss and grief, but that of her parents. She looks at her family, their histories, and her own memory with clarity and empathy. Though ostensibly a book that's about who Kat became after losing her mother, the book is equally sharp on her relationship with her father, and it is here that Kat is most unflinching and brave. In less skilled hands, the narrative might suffer for the hints of magical realism that are embedded throughout, but by taking the chance— by trusting us, her readers— Kat manages to instead portray the continuous nature of grief and of the selves we might have been in one of the most effective ways I've ever read in a book. It's poetic, beautifully wrought, and filled with a love that translates off the page.
I can't wait to see what she does next!
This is an important, instrumental book: Kat masterfully writes not just of her own loss and grief, but that of her parents. She looks at her family, their histories, and her own memory with clarity and empathy. Though ostensibly a book that's about who Kat became after losing her mother, the book is equally sharp on her relationship with her father, and it is here that Kat is most unflinching and brave. In less skilled hands, the narrative might suffer for the hints of magical realism that are embedded throughout, but by taking the chance— by trusting us, her readers— Kat manages to instead portray the continuous nature of grief and of the selves we might have been in one of the most effective ways I've ever read in a book. It's poetic, beautifully wrought, and filled with a love that translates off the page.
I can't wait to see what she does next!
January 13, 2022
I thought the content of the book was excellent. It was interesting learning the dynamics of this authors family and reading how she coped with her feelings and her Mother’s death. However, I felt like the storyline was jumbled and became hard to read. It was as if the book was all the author’s random thoughts, memories and stories compiled in no particular order. I’m sure there was a reason for this but for me, it made it hard to stay captivated with the story.
June 28, 2021
[review of an ARC]
I don't read a lot on grief. Not intentionally, it just doesn't come across my radar often. Coupled with the word "Ghosts" in the title (and the fact that I'm currently balls-deep in the 274 seasons of Supernatural), I didn't pick this up right away because it gave me "help, I'm seeing the ghost of my dead mother everywhere I go and it's sending me into an endless spiral of hard partying, drinking, and a general lack of self care" vibes. Admittedly, I gave it a try when I saw the blurbs from Ocean Vuong and Alexander Chee (I've discovered I will read literally anything blurbed by Chee), and was pleasantly surprised (also, that cover!).
The title is really only part of this story. Grief is a weird thing that spans lifetimes and generations and changes but then doesn't really change at all. We change around it. Kat Chow's particular grief (over her mother dying when Chow was a child) molds itself around her relationships to her father, sisters, her parents' immigrant experience, and her own existence as a daughter of immigrants. What do we really know about our parents as children vs what we learn when we're older? And how is that complicated when a parent dies before you grow up? How is that further complicated through the immigration lens?
I didn't intentionally read this after Speak, Okinawa, but it feels in conversation with that at times, around the mother-daughter relationship and the child-of-immigrant experience. Chow has written a very full story, not just about grief, but how it works its way through lifetimes and how we evolve around it at different stages of our lives.
I don't read a lot on grief. Not intentionally, it just doesn't come across my radar often. Coupled with the word "Ghosts" in the title (and the fact that I'm currently balls-deep in the 274 seasons of Supernatural), I didn't pick this up right away because it gave me "help, I'm seeing the ghost of my dead mother everywhere I go and it's sending me into an endless spiral of hard partying, drinking, and a general lack of self care" vibes. Admittedly, I gave it a try when I saw the blurbs from Ocean Vuong and Alexander Chee (I've discovered I will read literally anything blurbed by Chee), and was pleasantly surprised (also, that cover!).
The title is really only part of this story. Grief is a weird thing that spans lifetimes and generations and changes but then doesn't really change at all. We change around it. Kat Chow's particular grief (over her mother dying when Chow was a child) molds itself around her relationships to her father, sisters, her parents' immigrant experience, and her own existence as a daughter of immigrants. What do we really know about our parents as children vs what we learn when we're older? And how is that complicated when a parent dies before you grow up? How is that further complicated through the immigration lens?
I didn't intentionally read this after Speak, Okinawa, but it feels in conversation with that at times, around the mother-daughter relationship and the child-of-immigrant experience. Chow has written a very full story, not just about grief, but how it works its way through lifetimes and how we evolve around it at different stages of our lives.
May 31, 2021
"This is a book about death" might not seem like the most appealing tag line at first, but in Kat Chow's capable hands, Seeing Ghosts becomes much more than that. It follows the aftermath of her mother's death from cancer, ascending the steep slope of this loss again and again in search of solace and, if not solace, then some semblance of understanding.
A book about death is of course a book about life, and how we try to go on — how an absence becomes a presence, with uncertain and sometimes jagged contours, and how grief continues to transform us in ways we never imagined. I'm grateful for how this book resists easy narratives of redemption, and how it patiently catalogs the stubbornness and beauty of flawed human relationships. And I'm in awe of how it collects so many intimate moments into a rich, ambivalent, almost incantatory whole.
A book about death is of course a book about life, and how we try to go on — how an absence becomes a presence, with uncertain and sometimes jagged contours, and how grief continues to transform us in ways we never imagined. I'm grateful for how this book resists easy narratives of redemption, and how it patiently catalogs the stubbornness and beauty of flawed human relationships. And I'm in awe of how it collects so many intimate moments into a rich, ambivalent, almost incantatory whole.
September 14, 2021
Reading this book felt like I was peeking into a scrapbook of the author's family history. The story primarily focuses on her mother's life, the things she experienced, and the grief that was felt after she was gone. The photos that are included bring the story to life, the types of personal family photos that all of us have of our family members, and that people outside of the family seldom are privy to.
In her difficulties to extract the full story from her parents, I was reminded of how hard it has been for me to ask my parents about their lives before me. This memoir spoke to me in so many different ways. I can't imagine what my family would look like if my mother was no longer here. The way the author was able to bond with her mother, despite cultural and generational differences is extremely inspiring.
This memoir is addressed to the author's mother as she contemplates life before and after her death, how the entire family was impacted deeply by her mother's existence and departure. She also weaves in important commentary on the prevalence of racism in the US, against Asians and other minority groups.
In her difficulties to extract the full story from her parents, I was reminded of how hard it has been for me to ask my parents about their lives before me. This memoir spoke to me in so many different ways. I can't imagine what my family would look like if my mother was no longer here. The way the author was able to bond with her mother, despite cultural and generational differences is extremely inspiring.
This memoir is addressed to the author's mother as she contemplates life before and after her death, how the entire family was impacted deeply by her mother's existence and departure. She also weaves in important commentary on the prevalence of racism in the US, against Asians and other minority groups.
May 28, 2021
This book made me cry.
Kat adeptly maneuvers the personal and the political, the private and the public, the grief and the joy. The memoir tells the story of not just one deep and obvious loss, but of layered set of quotidian losses associated with migration, assimilation, and identification.
It is the quintessential story of the American family, and how they survive and reclaim their stories — collective and individual.
Kat adeptly maneuvers the personal and the political, the private and the public, the grief and the joy. The memoir tells the story of not just one deep and obvious loss, but of layered set of quotidian losses associated with migration, assimilation, and identification.
It is the quintessential story of the American family, and how they survive and reclaim their stories — collective and individual.
November 16, 2021
Seeing Ghosts: A Memoir deserves more than a short few words of praise and a rating from me. Instead: I'm going to sit down for a full review and documentation of the personal notes this book hit for me, as soon as I get the time.
Insightful, vulnerable, beautifully constructed and mostly memorable in every sense of the word. Highly recommend!
Full review to come.
Insightful, vulnerable, beautifully constructed and mostly memorable in every sense of the word. Highly recommend!
Full review to come.
August 25, 2021
SEEING GHOSTS by Kat Chow is an amazing memoir! In this book Kat shares very openly about losing her mother to cancer at a young age. I felt such an immediate connection to her as we are both Chinese. I loved learning about her family history and the writing really took me on a journey through time and grief. I quite enjoyed the use of the second person point of view throughout as Kat has so much to say and ask her mother. There were several extremely poignant parts that made me sad. I appreciated the honesty and relatability. While reading this book it made me reflect on my own family and how we’re all still dealing with our own ghosts in our own ways. I found this book to really resonate with me. It’s my fave memoir of 2021 so far!
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Thank you to Grand Central Publishing for my gifted copy!
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Thank you to Grand Central Publishing for my gifted copy!
August 23, 2022
One of the better grief memoirs out there. Read via audio (narrated by the author).
Disclaimer: I received a free audiobook from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Disclaimer: I received a free audiobook from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
September 4, 2021
I follow Chow on Twitter and was curious when I saw that she had a memoir coming out. I didn't know much about the author's background so I was sad to read some of the premise: that Chow had an older brother who only lived a few hours after being born, that her mom died when she was a teenager, leaving her sisters and their father to mourn and find their way in the world.
This was very dull. The text jumps around and something about it feels very "distant." I'm sympathetic to the author's experiences but couldn't really relate, couldn't get into it. It didn't help that the timeline bounces around and it isn't a linear memoir. This can certainly work but for me it just made it more difficult.
It felt like a book that the author needed to write as part of the grieving process and I respect that. But that also means it's not necessarily something that works for a broader audience, either. It could be that I'm just someone who wasn't the audience, too. Chow is also a former journalist and books written by journalists (current, former, etc.) often do not work for me.
I'm sure there's an audience for this. If you're part of the Asian/Pacific Islander American group, if you're someone who has lost a parent at a young age, if you're an immigrant, etc. this might be a good book for you.
Recommend as a library borrow but perhaps for the right person it'd make a great purchase.
Library borrow was best for me.
This was very dull. The text jumps around and something about it feels very "distant." I'm sympathetic to the author's experiences but couldn't really relate, couldn't get into it. It didn't help that the timeline bounces around and it isn't a linear memoir. This can certainly work but for me it just made it more difficult.
It felt like a book that the author needed to write as part of the grieving process and I respect that. But that also means it's not necessarily something that works for a broader audience, either. It could be that I'm just someone who wasn't the audience, too. Chow is also a former journalist and books written by journalists (current, former, etc.) often do not work for me.
I'm sure there's an audience for this. If you're part of the Asian/Pacific Islander American group, if you're someone who has lost a parent at a young age, if you're an immigrant, etc. this might be a good book for you.
Recommend as a library borrow but perhaps for the right person it'd make a great purchase.
Library borrow was best for me.
December 27, 2022
I’m not sure why I picked up this book. I think I recall the cover art catching my eye when I was perusing the books in the shop on Haight (side note: haven’t fully figured out how I feel about how cover art has evolved). I briefly read the inside cover and saw it was a memoir about a person’s experience with grief, diaspora, nostalgia and family. Admittedly, I find myself frequently consumed by these themes and lack ways to wrap my head around them. I yearn to understand them more fully - maybe in the vain attempt to emotionally bulletproof my future self. Unsurprisingly, this method hasn’t worked for me in the past.
When I described the read to my dad (his library is chock full of lengthy history, politics, and science books), he questioned who the author was.
“Why her story?”
He had never heard of the author’s name, Kat Chow. And in fact, neither had I. But in contemplating my response, I found it fitting that this was the story of someone I did not know. That the experience of grief and memory is something that we all share - simultaneously the most individually personal and ubiquitous human experience. I found myself clinging to certain ways in which she described the grief of her mom passing when she was a child, and empathizing with parts of her story in which I couldn’t see myself.
In some ways, I think grief exists in the fourth dimension. It reaches across time and space. Chow described moments when she could see memory in real time - sharing soup with her father and simply knowing this would be a scene she would return to in the future. I think we all have those moments, and to me, they can sometimes bring about intense waves of preemptive grief. No matter how fiercely I grasp at that moment, it will slip away and fade into whatever way my brain elects to store it. I can see my future self clicking replay and feeling the deep pang of longing and nostalgia.
And what if my memory doesn’t stand the test of time? If I can’t even trust myself to save these moments? Core memories of my grandma, aunt, grandfather, and great aunt already see withering around the edges, the mechanics of my recall rusting over time. I don’t think that it’s as easy as saying “all we have is the present.” The present is a mosaic of the past and a path to
the future - it spans so many more dimensions than here and now. I’m not quite sure what catch-all phrase can really prepare us for these deep, guttural experiences.
I think that’s why I fixate on physical, tangible objects - the costume jewelry from my grandma, the John Mayer album that my grandma and I bought together at a flea market, julekake, my mom’s leather coat, frijoles negros, my dad’s skis. If I can’t trust my own memory or stand to stare my fading recollections in the face, then I can rely on these objects to store them for me. That I can adorn myself with the details that I can’t retain or consume the same meal that was shared at dinner tables past with conversations lost to the ether. Maybe it helps me avoid thinking about how I feel I have betrayed my loved ones with my leaky mind.
I appreciate Chow’s candor and vulnerability - it was a contemplative read that dipped into my own personal experiences, but allowed me to briefly inhabit hers too. I believe that is a gift. None of this solved the way in which I think about grief or nostalgia - they are unsolvable mysteries that I will return to for the rest of my life, for better or for worse.
When I described the read to my dad (his library is chock full of lengthy history, politics, and science books), he questioned who the author was.
“Why her story?”
He had never heard of the author’s name, Kat Chow. And in fact, neither had I. But in contemplating my response, I found it fitting that this was the story of someone I did not know. That the experience of grief and memory is something that we all share - simultaneously the most individually personal and ubiquitous human experience. I found myself clinging to certain ways in which she described the grief of her mom passing when she was a child, and empathizing with parts of her story in which I couldn’t see myself.
In some ways, I think grief exists in the fourth dimension. It reaches across time and space. Chow described moments when she could see memory in real time - sharing soup with her father and simply knowing this would be a scene she would return to in the future. I think we all have those moments, and to me, they can sometimes bring about intense waves of preemptive grief. No matter how fiercely I grasp at that moment, it will slip away and fade into whatever way my brain elects to store it. I can see my future self clicking replay and feeling the deep pang of longing and nostalgia.
And what if my memory doesn’t stand the test of time? If I can’t even trust myself to save these moments? Core memories of my grandma, aunt, grandfather, and great aunt already see withering around the edges, the mechanics of my recall rusting over time. I don’t think that it’s as easy as saying “all we have is the present.” The present is a mosaic of the past and a path to
the future - it spans so many more dimensions than here and now. I’m not quite sure what catch-all phrase can really prepare us for these deep, guttural experiences.
I think that’s why I fixate on physical, tangible objects - the costume jewelry from my grandma, the John Mayer album that my grandma and I bought together at a flea market, julekake, my mom’s leather coat, frijoles negros, my dad’s skis. If I can’t trust my own memory or stand to stare my fading recollections in the face, then I can rely on these objects to store them for me. That I can adorn myself with the details that I can’t retain or consume the same meal that was shared at dinner tables past with conversations lost to the ether. Maybe it helps me avoid thinking about how I feel I have betrayed my loved ones with my leaky mind.
I appreciate Chow’s candor and vulnerability - it was a contemplative read that dipped into my own personal experiences, but allowed me to briefly inhabit hers too. I believe that is a gift. None of this solved the way in which I think about grief or nostalgia - they are unsolvable mysteries that I will return to for the rest of my life, for better or for worse.
November 28, 2021
Thank you to Goodreads and Grand Central Publishing for the free (hardcover!) copy of Kat Chow's memoir.
This was one of those books that grows on you, but once it does, it takes a hold that doesn't let go. After having to read this in stops and starts and with a month-long break due to illness and school, finishing was a bit anticlimactic—through no fault of the book's own. But I did have the urge to immediately go back to the beginning, having lost a sense for the book as a whole. Not having the luxury to reread at this time, what sticks out to me is the frustration and hopelessness Kat so beautifully and painfully portrays, the grief that her words evoke in the reader. I felt so privileged to be let into her world, to be privy to the family history and dynamics and inside jokes and everything that makes a family. I have so much respect for her writing, her resilience and strength and vulnerability, and all the work, emotional and otherwise, that went into creating Seeing Ghosts.
This was one of those books that grows on you, but once it does, it takes a hold that doesn't let go. After having to read this in stops and starts and with a month-long break due to illness and school, finishing was a bit anticlimactic—through no fault of the book's own. But I did have the urge to immediately go back to the beginning, having lost a sense for the book as a whole. Not having the luxury to reread at this time, what sticks out to me is the frustration and hopelessness Kat so beautifully and painfully portrays, the grief that her words evoke in the reader. I felt so privileged to be let into her world, to be privy to the family history and dynamics and inside jokes and everything that makes a family. I have so much respect for her writing, her resilience and strength and vulnerability, and all the work, emotional and otherwise, that went into creating Seeing Ghosts.
December 27, 2022
actual rating: 1.5/5
another reviewer said it best when they described this book as "random thoughts and memories compiled in no particular order".
kat chow has been through a lot, and likely has a lot of valuable insights to share, but i don't feel that she was able to transform her life experiences into a coherent or interesting memoir. i would say that 60% of the narrative in this book was extremely mundane. you can't fill a book with unremarkable snippets of your daily life without giving the reader a reason to care about those unremarkable moments. oh, and on that note there were way too many descriptions of preparing and eating food. it seems that food is a central thematic element in her family life, but it just was not interesting to read about.
the organization of this book was frustrating. the chapters are completely disordered in terms of timeline, which can be a stylistic choice -- but in this case there was no discernible intent behind the structure, so instead it felt like weak writing. the chapters themselves are organized into four parts, and i did not see the point of this either as there was nothing that distinguished the parts from each other.
overall, i just found this book boring, and tried to get through it as quickly as i could so i could move on. it's too bad because i had really expected to appreciate and relate to it.
(as usual with memoirs i feel the need to emphasize that this is in no way a commentary on the author's life, accomplishments, tribulations, struggles, etc., just about how much i enjoyed the book)
another reviewer said it best when they described this book as "random thoughts and memories compiled in no particular order".
kat chow has been through a lot, and likely has a lot of valuable insights to share, but i don't feel that she was able to transform her life experiences into a coherent or interesting memoir. i would say that 60% of the narrative in this book was extremely mundane. you can't fill a book with unremarkable snippets of your daily life without giving the reader a reason to care about those unremarkable moments. oh, and on that note there were way too many descriptions of preparing and eating food. it seems that food is a central thematic element in her family life, but it just was not interesting to read about.
the organization of this book was frustrating. the chapters are completely disordered in terms of timeline, which can be a stylistic choice -- but in this case there was no discernible intent behind the structure, so instead it felt like weak writing. the chapters themselves are organized into four parts, and i did not see the point of this either as there was nothing that distinguished the parts from each other.
overall, i just found this book boring, and tried to get through it as quickly as i could so i could move on. it's too bad because i had really expected to appreciate and relate to it.
(as usual with memoirs i feel the need to emphasize that this is in no way a commentary on the author's life, accomplishments, tribulations, struggles, etc., just about how much i enjoyed the book)
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November 10, 2021Memoir of an American-born Chinese woman who lost her mother when she was young. Much of the book is written to the mother, and it also talks a lot about her relationship with her father and her sisters after her mother's death, and her family history dating back to when and why they left Hong Kong. The audiobook is narrated by the author, so I recommend consuming this one via audio.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for a free advance copy of this book, though I ended up listening to the finished audiobook version.
01.14.2021: Memoir of a former member of the NPR Code Switch team!
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for a free advance copy of this book, though I ended up listening to the finished audiobook version.
01.14.2021: Memoir of a former member of the NPR Code Switch team!
September 17, 2024
i really liked how this book reckoned with grief, and moreso how grief persists and changes years after losing someone important (probably since i am some years out from my own grief). i love to read books investigating the specific feelings of losing your mother, and as time goes on, i also like to read about the greater fallout of losing someone who is often so central in the family unit. chow's investigation of her relationship with her father after the loss of her mother really captures the push and pull of needing connection and needing independence.
"Under the dim kitchen light, watching my father slurp the soup, I understood I was witnessing a memory in progress- of the two of us, separately, recalling this moment, and of our future selves returning here to this scene."
"Under the dim kitchen light, watching my father slurp the soup, I understood I was witnessing a memory in progress- of the two of us, separately, recalling this moment, and of our future selves returning here to this scene."
August 7, 2023
"holding and hoarding can't turn ghosts into flesh."
paralyzingly vulnerable with an uncanny familiarity to the point of being haunted.
paralyzingly vulnerable with an uncanny familiarity to the point of being haunted.
August 18, 2021
☆ i got a audiobook arc from Netgalley for an honest review ☆
This is a really well written book. I was worried about the "story" or memories not being in order. Usually this makes a book messy. But i think Kat did a wonderful job on making it sound/look very smooth and i felt like i wasnt lost at any point. And when you think about it: memories comes in moments that reminds you of something and not in order all at once.
The audiobook itself is read by Kat which i think gave a very personal touch. Her reading had alot of emotion but wasnt over the top either. It was a perfect voice that i could listen longer moments on.
I learned alot about asian culture. I myself cant personally relate to being an immigrant or feeling like parts of my culture isnt here.
I can also say i never lost a family member nor a friend, i been very lucky. So i cant relate to going through this kind of grief. But i can understand how things like this form us as a person. How its something that affects us, especially if we are very young. Losing people we love isnt easy.
I feel like we got to hear/read some intimate moments in Kats life with her family before, during and after her mothers death. But also see through her lens how not only she but her whole family struggled in their own way with grief.
A very interesting read.
This is a really well written book. I was worried about the "story" or memories not being in order. Usually this makes a book messy. But i think Kat did a wonderful job on making it sound/look very smooth and i felt like i wasnt lost at any point. And when you think about it: memories comes in moments that reminds you of something and not in order all at once.
The audiobook itself is read by Kat which i think gave a very personal touch. Her reading had alot of emotion but wasnt over the top either. It was a perfect voice that i could listen longer moments on.
I learned alot about asian culture. I myself cant personally relate to being an immigrant or feeling like parts of my culture isnt here.
I can also say i never lost a family member nor a friend, i been very lucky. So i cant relate to going through this kind of grief. But i can understand how things like this form us as a person. How its something that affects us, especially if we are very young. Losing people we love isnt easy.
I feel like we got to hear/read some intimate moments in Kats life with her family before, during and after her mothers death. But also see through her lens how not only she but her whole family struggled in their own way with grief.
A very interesting read.
December 6, 2021
‘seeing ghosts’ is one of those memoirs written so well i have to remind myself this isn't fiction, events play out almost like a screenplay. there’s a wholesome quality (and imperfection?) to grieving and treasuring one’s mother while navigating feelings of anger or disdain towards an also grieving father, while also caring about him, and knowing he didn’t have a relationship with his parents. and losing a child. chow offers several different views of him, a mindful offering. the traveling portion was particularly touching, and had a redemption story vibe to it. but in dealing with tragedy and trauma, there is still a lot of sentimental humor, chow allowing us in on her family’s inside jokes, it feels very intimate. ‘seeing ghosts’ lives up to its title, the physical manifestation, whether it be taxidermy or seeing familial resemblance in each other, carrying on references and mannerisms, to name a few aspects, and plenty more i'm not even aware of. chow poured her heart and soul into this work and it shows, it almost feels - wrong - knowing so much, she's that powerfully open.
June 14, 2021
In Seeing Ghosts, Kat writes masterfully about the loss of her mother to cancer, how she and her family processes her mother’s death, and what it means to understand and unearth her family history—reconciling her memories with what she learns from her father, sisters, aunts, and others later on.
This is an intimate story of grief, family relationships, and immigrant struggle. But Seeing Ghosts is not without lighthearted moments, as well; as Kat is as skillful describing the somber as she is recalling some of the more playful of her family memories.
Seeing Ghosts will appeal to all readers, but for those who have experienced loss or struggled to feel belonging in society, Kat’s words will resonate deeply.
Me personally, I have not experienced the type of loss and grief that Kat has. But it’s a testament to her writing of such a personal and moving story, that Kat has inspired me to better understand my own family’s history—before those who can tell it best pass.
This is an intimate story of grief, family relationships, and immigrant struggle. But Seeing Ghosts is not without lighthearted moments, as well; as Kat is as skillful describing the somber as she is recalling some of the more playful of her family memories.
Seeing Ghosts will appeal to all readers, but for those who have experienced loss or struggled to feel belonging in society, Kat’s words will resonate deeply.
Me personally, I have not experienced the type of loss and grief that Kat has. But it’s a testament to her writing of such a personal and moving story, that Kat has inspired me to better understand my own family’s history—before those who can tell it best pass.
September 22, 2021
This was a dense, beautiful, well researched memoir of questions. Kat Chow investigates her own grief and her family's, her inheritance of melancholy. She muses about what her mother might have been like if she lived, if she would have stayed with her dad or not. She imagines her mother's childhood and her father's, even wondering after what her own father is feeling in the moment, since he's so un-expressive.
Kat does an amazing job exploring the loss often inherent in the immigrant experience. I learned a lot about Chinese people living in Cuba, Chinese death traditions, and more.
At times, the memoir felt a bit meandering. Toward the end, I was like "damn this girl could pontificate about her family forever, how is she going to wrap this up?" But the ending felt right. A very well done memoir. You can feel the love she has for her family through the pages. I'm sure writing it was a very healing experience.
Kat does an amazing job exploring the loss often inherent in the immigrant experience. I learned a lot about Chinese people living in Cuba, Chinese death traditions, and more.
At times, the memoir felt a bit meandering. Toward the end, I was like "damn this girl could pontificate about her family forever, how is she going to wrap this up?" But the ending felt right. A very well done memoir. You can feel the love she has for her family through the pages. I'm sure writing it was a very healing experience.
August 27, 2021
In Kat Chow’s memoir, she describes her life with her family, both before and after her mother died from cancer when Kat was a young teenager. Kat’s voice captures her family’s story, from their immigration from China to America, and her life growing up with her two sisters and their single, widowed father.
While I was a bit nervous that I would dislike the writing style, as she recounts the memories of her life out of order, I did get use to it and enjoyed her narrative. I learned a lot about her culture, and I appreciated her sharing her story. Kat’s grief and strength are beautifully depicted on the page, and loved her close bond to her sisters. I commend Kat for sharing her life with her readers, and this was an excellent memoir.
Thank you so much to Grand Central Publishing for my gifted copy of this book.
While I was a bit nervous that I would dislike the writing style, as she recounts the memories of her life out of order, I did get use to it and enjoyed her narrative. I learned a lot about her culture, and I appreciated her sharing her story. Kat’s grief and strength are beautifully depicted on the page, and loved her close bond to her sisters. I commend Kat for sharing her life with her readers, and this was an excellent memoir.
Thank you so much to Grand Central Publishing for my gifted copy of this book.
October 1, 2024
This was such a great read, I highly recommended it to anyone who’s enjoyed Crying in H Mart.
In Seeing Ghosts, Kat Chow writes a life-spanning memoir mostly following her grief after she loses her mother to cancer and how the sadness takes over her relationship with her father and everyone surrounding her. I also feel Chow loses her father for a while. As she grows up, she starts exploring her relationship with him and seeing how flawed he is. I thought all the bits about his father had very interesting notions about being Chinese American, the ‘American Dream,’ and the child-of-immigrant experience.
In Seeing Ghosts, Kat Chow writes a life-spanning memoir mostly following her grief after she loses her mother to cancer and how the sadness takes over her relationship with her father and everyone surrounding her. I also feel Chow loses her father for a while. As she grows up, she starts exploring her relationship with him and seeing how flawed he is. I thought all the bits about his father had very interesting notions about being Chinese American, the ‘American Dream,’ and the child-of-immigrant experience.
December 30, 2022
A love story to her family, I could hear Kat Chow's npr voice as I read this incredible testament to her mom and her own life.
May 5, 2022
There was something about this memoir that really spoke to me. I listened to the audio read by the author, but I also read along much of the time. I found her stories to be honest, real, and painful, but also funny and insightful. As a child of Taiwanese immigrants, I found some of her stories to bring to mind memories of my own childhood, even though our upbringings were very different. She lost her mom when she was young, but she lost her brother two years before she was born, and death always seemed to be part of how she processed life. From the opening pages, this book felt very different from other memoirs that I've read and you weren't always sure if she was recounting things she had experienced or memories that she had imagined. The entire book unraveled slowly and I'm glad I took my time with it, even though I certainly could have listened to the entire thing in a (long) day. While I initially saw the book as a way for the author to deal with her grief over losing her mother, I feel like much of this story centered around her father, and how his own grief and his own choices affected her own life, positively or negatively. Learning about his own journey to discover his roots was fascinating and the history of the Chinese in Cuba was something I knew nothing about. In the end, this was a book where I finished and then sat there contemplating and then went back and reread the ending and contemplated some more. I suspect this is a book that I might pick back up in the future and see what else I pick up from rereading it. The author is an amazing storyteller and although she was tackling something obviously sad, I didn't feel depressed after reading this book. The emotion was there, but it wasn't overwhelming. Although I listen to NPR every morning, I didn't realize that Kat Chow was a reporter for them, but after listening to her narrate this book, I'll be listening for her reports from here on.
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