Fetishized: A Reckoning With Yellow Fever, Feminism, and Beauty by Kaila Yu
Many thanks to Crown Publishing and NetGalley for providing
me with an advanced copy of Kaila Yu’s bold and compelling memoir/essay
collection that confronts racism, objectification, and representation titled Fetishized: A Reckoning With Yellow Fever, Feminism, and Beauty. I didn’t know who
Kaila Yu was before reading this book, but it was interesting to read about her
career transformation from an import and pin-up model to musician and lead singer
for the band Nylon Pink to eventually a writer who is able to reflect and
distil how social stereotypes like the model minority myth and the dragon lady
shaped her own motivations and career choices with a critical eye. Although
reading about the social issues Yu critically examines in this book is
challenging, she presents them in a kind of autobiographical manner, connecting
her own experiences to the larger issues and supporting her observations and
conclusions with research and statistics to further bolster her points. This
approach that bridges both memoir and critical essays makes the entry into discussing
serious social problems and issues easier to approach as a reader. Furthermore,
Yu’s style and descriptions are rooted in a kind of humor and relevance that
also lessens the tension, but still makes readers appreciate and sympathize
with the gravity and weight of these issues. I’ve read a few of these kinds of
these books that could be both memoir and essay based, and I really appreciate
them for teaching since they can make great texts to help students not only
develop critical insights into social situations, but also to help them see how
as a writer their own experiences can be an entry point for interrogation of
issues and events in society. Yu’s book reminded me of Alice Bolin’s recent
essay collection Culture Creep in that both writers begin with
their own experiences as a framework for examining how women are represented
and portrayed in popular culture, and what kind of influence women in popular
culture like singers, actresses, reality television personalities and social
media influencers have on shaping young women’s own ideas about themselves,
their careers, and expectations for relationships. Furthermore, Yu’s
examination of Asian stereotypes, representation, and treatment in society also
reminded me Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings, Jane Wong’s Meet Me Tonight in Atlantic City, and Viet Thanh Nguyen’s A Man of Two Faces,
books by Asian American writers and scholars who explore their experiences
growing up, as well as the kind of art, literature, and film/television
representations that shaped their own ideas and approaches to art and writing. Chapters
in Yu’s book would pair well with other chapters from any of these memoirs to
provide students with a multifaceted perspective of race and identity, and in
particular how popular media and literature can shape ideas about racism and
stereotypes.
Yu’s book is also interesting in that her experiences take
the narrative further to show how these stereotypes and representation shaped
her own behavior and choices. She frequently mentioned that her decision to
become a pinup and import car model was an attempt to challenge the model
minority myth, the belief that “Asians are quiet, intelligent, high achieving,
and hardworking… to it Asians against other minorities”, which was interesting
to consider. Yu further examines that Asian women are often left to fit into 2
categories—the model minority or the hypersexualized Asian woman, like a dragon
lady, whose stereotype she traces to colonialism, imperialism, and war. The
second essay, “Geisha”, examines the myth of the hypersexualized Asian woman
with the book and film Memoirs of a Geisha, which was published in the
late 90s, and turned into a film in the early 2000s. Yu examines how Arthur
Golden, the American male writer, perpetuated stereotypes about Asian women and
sexuality with this book, and how audiences failed to note many of the
disturbing elements of the story, but rather recognized the kind of abuse and violence
in the book as a love story. Yu examines how her own experiences with older
men, and in particular in how a specific girlfriend would pressure Yu into
pursuing hooking up with older men. She also notes that “The book affirmed that
pursuing glamor was not just worthwhile, it was required…”, which is also a
recurring theme throughout Yu’s book. The idea that Asian women needed to fit
into these stereotypes and act and look certain ways to make them worthy to the
male gaze nudged Yu into pursuing a career in modeling and altering her look to
fit into these stereotypes. I appreciated her candidness in examining these
ideas and seeing how her own desire for attention from men was shaped by these
earlier representations. Yu also critiqued The Joy Luck Club, noting
that it was one of the first novels about Asian American experience to be taught
in schools, but also that was made into a popular film. Unlike Memoirs of a
Geisha, The Joy Luck Club was written by an Asian American woman
(Amy Tan), yet Yu also noted some of the inconsistencies and problems with the
way the mothers in the film are portrayed, and how their lives as immigrants
are greatly simplified, probably to appeal more to white audiences. The film
and the representation of Asian immigrant women allowed Yu to examine her own
mother’s experiences to challenge the ways that these women were represented in
the film.
One of the most important, but also upsetting chapters in
the book (“Bad Asian”) detail Yu’s sexual assault during a modeling audition,
and help to highlight the ways that pornography often appeals to racial stereotypes
and exploits power inequalities. Yu was just starting her modeling career, and
applied to various auditions, not really thinking about the potential for assault
and exploitation. This essay, and some of the others in the book, examine the
ways that pornography particularly fetishizes Asian women and feeds into stereotypes
while also dehumanizing them, reducing their individuality. Yu also explores
how the history of colonialism, imperialism, and war have furthered these representations
of Asian women. What was even more disturbing was the comments from male fans
that were often sexually violent, but also tied into the kinds of violent pornography
that often exploit Asian women.
The later part of the book explores Yu’s pivot from modeling
into music, first as a solo act, then as part of the group Nylon Pink. I
enjoyed reading these chapters, even though I was not familiar with Nylon Pink,
which was one of the first all Asian female bands. It was cool to learn about
how she connected with bassist Katt Lee to make music, and how the band
eventually came together to include other Asian female musicians. One thing
that resonated with me about the band was how Yu explains the issues of
representation for Asian females in music. Although hopefully that kind of
representation might be changing with women like Karen O, Michelle Zauner,
Mitski, the music scene was different in the early and mid-2000s. Yu explained
that to gain traction and be taken more seriously, the band needed to lean into
more of the Asian female stereotypes, while noting that other white artists
simply could be themselves. Yu also noted that Black female singers often didn’t
have this kind of issue either, where singers like Eryka Badu could develop
their own unique personas and not have to play into stereotypes. I found it
interesting too that Yu critiqued Gwen Stefani’s appropriation of Japanese
culture with the Harajuku Girls, a kind of backup dancer troupe that remained
silent and were kind of like props, furthering stereotypes about Asian women. Despite
developing the band and gaining some traction, Yu explores how the members often
were fetishized, and how Yu herself pushed some bandmembers into these
fetishized stereotypes to further the band’s popularity. This was also one of
the most revealing elements of the book, how Yu acknowledges her own pursuit of
these kinds of stereotypes and fetishization as a means to benefit and further
her career, but also how it eventually brought her anxiety and anguish. It also
seemed to have brought about the end of the band, noting how she was no longer
into performing with the group. There’s a lot more to the story of the band, and
I recommend this for anyone who’s interesting in books about the music industry
and bands, as Yu and her bandmates experiences with fetishization and racism
add a sad but important twist to these kinds of behind the music stories.
One of the last chapters of the book, “A Reckoning”, also
stood out as a kind of turning point for Yu, where she discusses the Georgia
spa shooting that occurred in 2021, where eight people, six of whom where Asian
women, were murdered by a white man who appeared to have a fetish for Asian
women and seemed to blame them for his own personal problems. Yu situates this
event in the pandemic, where violence against Asian Americans, especially Asian
women, became more commonplace, but also notes other instances of violence by
white men against Asian women that predated the pandemic, emphasizing that this
violence is more common than the media would report. It also relates to the
idea of fetishization and how it dehumanizes Asian women, reducing them to
parts and objects rather than recognizing their individuality and their
humanity. It also seemed to be a turning point for Yu’s writing, as she began
to write more about fetishization and the violence that was often paired with
it. It is a powerful ending to a
compelling book that interrogates representation for Asian women, as well as
examining how history, colonialism, war, and imperialism have all contributed
to the fetishization of Asian women. As Yu notes, it’s challenging to determine
the differences between fetishes and preferences that men may have, but she
rightly acknowledges the complications and violence that often results from fetishization,
not only how it has impacted her own life and career, and how it has impacted
others close to her, but also how it impacts other Asian American women. There
is so much to review with this book, I feel like I’m not completely covering everything
that Yu addresses. However, Fetishized is the kind of book that is
necessary to revisit and think about the different topics and issues she
explores. Yu’s book is an important and compelling read, and I could see any of
these chapters working well in a first-year writing class to explore important
issues of race, identity, culture, identity, and sexuality, as well as how
important representation is for students. Many of the chapters would pair well
with other recent books that are both memoirs and examine social issues. Highly
recommended!
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