Original link: http://z.arlmy.me/posts/Note/Note_MichelleZauner_CryingInHMart/
The excerpt of “After Mom is Gone”, that is, “Crying in H Mart”, should have been a recommendation from a Weibo at the earliest.
The love between mother and daughter seems to be glimpsed through this book, deep pity, secret protection, real existence of true love, and too much careless sacrifice. These, plus an additional layer of cultural barriers, magnify more empathy.
Author: Michelle Zauner (full name: Michelle Chongmi Zauner / 미셸정미조너), is a Korean-American singer, musician, writer and director. She is best known as the lead singer and lyricist of indie rock groups Japanese Breakfast and Little Big League and the author of Crying in H Mart. Zauner was born on March 29, 1989 in Seoul, South Korea, to a Korean mother and an American Jewish father.
- But it also allowed me to have a unique Korean stomach, know how to respect food, know how to accept emotional eating, everything is very special, kimchi must be very sour, stew must be very hot, barbecue must be particularly crispy…
- The afternoon I returned to Eugene was the day after my mother had her first chemotherapy injection. To look refreshed and radiant, I spent my layovers in San Francisco in front of a mirror in the women’s restroom. I washed my face at the sink, dried it with a rough paper towel, then combed my hair, wiped my face, put on makeup, and carefully traced a thin line of eyeliner. I took the lint roller out of my carry-on suitcase and used it to remove confetti from my pants and fluff from my sweater. I went out of my way to look good for my mom, more so than going to dates and job interviews.
- We crossed the unimpeded highways on which I had gained strength and hope, met countless talents and generosity of strangers, and discovered the joy and truth of life…but in that At that time, with the test of life and death, I found that everything that was originally gorgeous began to become bleak.
- She was the only person in the world who told me that everything would work out no matter what, like standing in the eye of a storm and calmly watching everything fall apart around me.
- you don’t have much talent
- While I was struggling to understand my mother, she was struggling to understand me. It was as if we had been thrown on opposite sides of a fault line, separated by generational divides, culture clashes and language barriers, leaving us lost in very different worlds, neither able to understand each other nor satisfy the other. expect. It wasn’t until the past few years that we gradually came out of the fog, carved out a spiritual space enough to accommodate each other, began to learn to appreciate each other’s differences, and began to discover our hidden commonalities.
- And she said to me, “Yeah, you know what I realized? I’ve never met anyone like you.”
- However, I started cooking. Most of them are the kind of dishes that you want to climb into bed and have a good sleep after eating, the kind of dishes that prisoners like to order.
- Dreaming of pigs, presidents, or shaking hands with celebrities is a symbol of good luck. However, dreaming about shit is the luckiest thing, and if you still dream about touching shit, you’ve got a gambling license.
- She is my defender and my archive. She carefully treasured every bit of my growth, collected all the traces I left in this world, and preserved every photo and every item of me. She remembers everything about me. The time of my birth, my fleeting interests and the first book I read, every formation of my character, every failure and pain I had, every little achievement I made… She has a unique and unique personality. Watch me with zeal and pour out upon me an inexhaustible love.
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