July 24, 2024

Life has felt so restless lately. Sleepness nights and groggy days make it hard to focus on work. Watching the newly released “Inside Out 2” yesterday made me realize the “anxiety guy” inside my head is the culprit.

I remember when dreaming big was easy, without fears or worries holding me back. Now, doubts creep in — am I good enough? Is this the right path? Can I achieve my dreams?

These worries and anxieties are real. They constantly tell me I’m not doing well enough, that others can succeed but I can’t. I keep searching for something I’m good at, but never find it.

I’ve been standing still, watching friends chase their dreams with excitement while I wonder when, or if, I’ll ever pursue mine. Riley Anderson from the movie faces a similar struggle, feeling lost and unsure, affecting her hockey game and her sense of self.

Inside Out 2 hit close to home, showing that anxiety is raging and messing with my life. I’ve lost most of the joy I could have felt, and sadness feels lame.

Riley is actually a gentle reminder for me, that these inner voices, these relentless doubts, are okay — to some extend. It portrays anxiety not necessarily as a villain but as a part of us that needs understanding and compassion. Through Riley’s journey, I see the importance of acknowledging our emotions, even the uncomfortable ones, and finding a way to live harmoniously with them. But how? How do I cope with these anxiety?

Though, I think Inside Out 2 is a beautiful, a poignant reminder that despite the chaos inside, we can still find our way, still chase our dreams, and still feel joy. It’s an exploration of the mind and a comforting message that we’re not alone in our struggles.

Riley and her emotions’ crew leaves me with a hopeful message, that I will be able to navigate through my inner turmoil, embrace my anxieties, and find strength to pursue my dreams. And finally joy can always be discovered.

From the outset, it feels inherently wrong to empathize with June. She is not the typical protagonist; she is flawed, opportunistic, and morally ambiguous. Her journey begins on a dark note as she witnesses the sudden death of her not-quite-best-friend, Athena Liu, and seizes the opportunity to claim Athena's unfinished manuscript as her own. What follows is a whirlwind of success, accusations, and a relentless pursuit of recognition.

June’s lack of guilt and her pride in transforming Athena’s manuscript into a national bestseller is deeply unsettling. Despite numerous accusations of plagiarism, she remains unrepentant, justifying her actions with a twisted sense of entitlement. Athena herself had admitted to drawing from her own traumatic experiences for her writing, suggesting that she, too, was not without flaws. This revelation muddies the moral waters even further, making it difficult to see Athena as a paragon of virtue.

Kuang skillfully portrays June as a product of a society that has conditioned her to be greedy and self-serving. It’s a society that often values fame and wealth over genuine talent and integrity. June's relentless pursuit of the spotlight, her desire to be heard, and her story to be read, reflect a deep-seated need for validation and recognition in a world that constantly undermines those who do not fit the traditional mold.

While it is challenging to admire June as a character, her story serves as a powerful critique of societal and systemic biases. Yellowface forces readers to confront the uncomfortable reality of how minorities are often stigmatized and judged not for their talents or contributions but for their differences. The novel exposes the inherent prejudices that exist within the literary world and beyond, shedding light on the myriad ways in which marginalized voices are silenced or appropriated.

R.F. Kuang's Yellowface is a thought-provoking and disturbing exploration of identity, ambition, and the cost of success. It compels readers to reflect on their own complicity in a system that rewards deceit and punishes difference. Through June's controversial journey, Kuang challenges us to reconsider our perceptions of right and wrong, talent and theft, and ultimately, what it means to truly own a story.

January 10, 2024 

“She was never trying to be extraordinary — she just wanted to live without being questioned.”