Suspend your disbelief before you open this book (or stick in your ears, so energetically read by actor Lynn Chen). You might also consider duct-taping your jaw shut because Manhattan-based Singaporean author Kevin Kwan insists on the veracity of the excesses in his outrageous, hilarious, train-wreck tragic debut novel: “So many aspects of and stories in the book I actually had to tone down!” he told Vanity Fair in an interview last year. “The reality is simply unbelievable. They say truth is sometimes stranger than fiction, but there’s such a thing as believability when you’re writing a novel. I did a lot more simplifying and cutting out of the decadence and the excess than I did of adding it on … [My] editor was like No one will believe this. And I would say, But this really happened, and she’d reply It doesn’t matter. You’re going to lose readers because it’s going to seem so unreal that people would spend this much money, or do something this excessive.”
Now that you’ve been duly warned by the author himself, let the way-over-the-top eye-rolling, name-dropping, back-stabbing begin. What could have been just an old-fashioned, simple love story of poor little rich boy falling in love with the wrong (-classed) girl of his dreams, becomes a decadent confection of wealth and overprivilege gone awry.
Nick Young, NYU history professor, is going home to Singapore to be his childhood best friend’s best man. He asks his girlfriend, Rachel Chu – NYU economics professor – to join him. Oh, the implications of such an invitation! His cousin Astrid duly advises him to warn Rachel about their unique family… but, of course, he doesn’t.
Rachel, who endured a peripatetic childhood with a single mother who eventually found stability as a real estate agent in northern California, is naive enough to believe that frequent flyer miles could upgrade the happy couple into a Singapore Airlines suite for their journey east. By the time she lands in Nick’s entitled world (private jets, yachts, islands, couture duds in seven-figure euros, servants given as royal gifts), she’s caught in a viper pit filled with spoiled heiresses and unrepentant social climbers who abuse then dismiss her as unworthy competition for Asia’s most eligible bachelor. Even worse, the young pale in comparison to the craziest rich Asian mothers …
Against such stupefyingly shallow odds, can true love survive?
Regardless of your net worth or specific Asian affiliation, Kwan’s multigenerational saga will have you both cringe-ing and nodding in recognition, not to mention more than the occasional guffaw of shock. While the staggering fortunes represented here are what might appear in The Economist or Forbes, the dysfunctional antics of the immeasurably wealthy become fodder for farcical reality shows and grocery-aisle gossip rags. But, of course, timing is everything … because on beaches, long flights, and weekend veg sessions, Crazy Rich Asians provides just the right disposable distraction.