The Good Shufu: Finding Love, Self, and Home on the Far Side of the World by Tracy Slater (memoir)

This memoir took me awhile to get interested in. Reviewing a memoir is always tough, as you really don't want to appear to say, "I didn't like the book, your life is dull".  So I tend to be a bit more forgiving in reading one because they are putting themselves out there for all to see (and review!).

As it begins, Tracy has an ideal Boston life, surviving her family drama but in style: writing, teaching, shoe purchasing.  She has friends, a home, and all is well.  At this point, in her descriptions I found her a little annoying, condescending almost, just in her tone.  I'm not sure what set off that alarm in me but I hit a point where I thought, "Should I bother continuing?"

Yes, I needed to. Because in an impeccable work of writing, she manages to show us how she changes once she starts her new job.  This job involves working as a sort of business liaison/etiquette expert for Asian businessmen on the brink of going global. They already know English, but the particular social cues and protocols still need some working out.  In a dull classroom, she tries to explain the differences in conversational approaches and other things that are so different in the US from Asia.

She immediately falls for Toru, a Japanese businessman, and he is similarly smitten with her. Their relationship starts fast and grows exponentially.  The art of this is we see her transform in her words: just simple word choices and phrases are different from the pre-trip Tracy.  So instead of her describing herself as having changed, we see it evolving already without being told.  I was really impressed with this: usually you have the memoir writer explaining their transition verbally.  She doesn't.  The explanation is visible as she simply talks about who she and Toru have become.

The biggest problem to meet them isn't their affection, but the division of society's lifestyles between her home place and his.  Knowing they are in this for the long haul, she has to imagine if she can leave her beloved Boston or if he should move with her.  It's not as simple as thinking "love conquers all".  There is more than geographical change: the culture change is much greater.  Japanese society often (not always) features women that are more passive and submissive than the upper-class, college-educated independent academic that Tracy is.  They are well-educated too, but the social niceties are more subtle- less forthrightness, less group activities, and even a way of keeping their eyes downcast in submission.  I could see how huge this variance would be for me, and I'm a mild person. Many women I know would be about as welcome as Godzilla with their American manners and abrupt and forceful personalities.

Fortunately, Tracy and Toru are willing to try and work it out.  Give and take. All those self-help book advice mantras are suddenly put in play.  Can they find a way to honor his family and retain her love of American culture? All or nothing?

As I read this, I wish it had pictures. Toru sounds so handsome, and Tracy (I saw her picture) is lovely.  I'd like to see them together.  So few memoirs feature pictures!   In any case, I really enjoyed exploring the ups and downs of their relationship. At one point, as they're sleeping, she realizes for once she can relax and simply "be".  That's something hard to find, that everyone wants.  Someone with whom they can "be".

And for emphasis, I have to repeat that the way she writes is so compelling regarding the personal transformation in her beliefs and attitudes. I can't wait to see if she writes more: I'd like to see her do this with a character and show us (not tell) how they change and grow.  It's a beautiful skill and one I don't notice often in a memoir.  The last few I've read were overbearing in their author's explaining themselves, as if they were defensive and being interviewed on Dr. Phil. This one flows much more naturally and more intensely simply by her use of events and actions rather than exposition.

Review copy provided to Amazon Vine

by GP Putnam's Sons, and releases today, June 30, 2015.

The Season of Second Chances, Diane Meier

Joy Harkness is sick of her life in New York as a professor at Columbia University. She wants a change, and serendipitously the opportunity opens up when a well-known feminist author invites her to Amherst to join a new educational group to discover a new philosophy of learning. She moves there, finds a new home, and begins to recreate her life: her ‘second chance’. She falls into a wonderful new community of interesting individuals, all living fulfilled lives, and not only gets to enjoy her new teaching position but also remodel a unique Victorian home. In the end, she discovers that her previous life was narrow and unfulfilled, and her new life allows her to expand and enjoy the world to the full.


It’s a love letter to academia. The novel is easily readable and fast paced, and there’s no lack of descriptions for the details of her transformation. It might appeal to many readers as an imaginary escape from their own lives, to be read with a Restoration Hardware catalog and a fan of paint swatches at hand. It is a very pretty book…I loved the font and the block printing styles.

That said, I hated the book on so many levels. First, it would appear that the ‘second chance’ she needed was meant to be: her NY house sold in four days, far over the asking price, and she found her new home instantly. Her new job paid far more than she imagined. The first contractor to come along was not only a savant-like expert on all things Victorian, but his price was under her budget, and the remodel was a quick and smooth production. Do you see where I am going with this? Realism is not to be found.

Joy’s new friends are all wealthy academics who pride themselves on their tolerant love of others, community, and family. They accept her unhesitatingly, and it appears the entire community wants to assist in her transformation. Evenings of gourmet suppers with perfect food and wines, stimulating conversation, and constant supportive murmurings fill Joy’s new days. Her new job is also perfect: coworkers who gladly share duties without complaining, well-behaved students, and gourmet lunches made by a professor (in her spare time) and brought in for the staff. The only nod to their academic work is rearranging book shelves and deciding where the fresh flowers should be placed, with some occasional paper-grading over wine.

I kept waiting for one of the enlightened community to be an ax murderer, just to liven up the cloying sweetness of it all.

The biggest problem, of so many, was the treatment of the academic community towards the talented craftsman who remodels her home back to its original splendor. They recognize his talent, but are quick to suggest a course of study that will allow him to teach and join their ranks. He’s simply not living up to his potential in their eyes and they are troubled by his lack of ambition. He’s just not good enough. In fact, every character in the novel that leads a productive life is an academic; the only ones who aren’t are the craftsman (who lives with his mom and is emotionally stunted), a wife-beater, and a vindictive old woman. In other words, the flawed people are uneducated. It’s as if Lassie saves the family from the fire, saves Timmy from the well, and yet is put to sleep because she’s not purebred. The elitist agenda is obvious and awkward.

The house Joy remodels, with Teddy’s assistance, is an obvious metaphor for Joy’s life. It starts out decrepit and run down, but eventually is restored to beauty and luxury. It’s no coincidence that towards the end, when she discovers Armani couture and is counseled to live life to the full, the clothing she purchases reflect the colors used in the home. Even her new lipsticks (oh yeah, we get to hear about lipstick colors, wallpaper samples, and the benefits of skillful makeup) seem to coordinate. It all falls into place, with never a concern about money issues, family problems, misunderstandings with friends, or illness. The lack of any credible conflict dilutes it into more of a fashion article than an interesting novel. Sure, some bad things happen, to other people, on the periphery. These serve only to emphasize the wonderful nature of the academic village. Amid this she sprinkles Feminist anecdotes, Henry James references, and treatises on private education that leave you snoring. As I said, though, the font is lovely.

Thanks to Jason Leibman of Henry Holt for the Review Copy.