A feat of economy, unspooling Ning’s emotional journey amid the cage of her salon ... Punches above its weight. Thammavongsa’s minimalism conveys a range of tones and psychological nuances as she grapples with the stubborn prejudices of class ... Wily and caustic, the book condemns petty Western narcissisms yet allows for bursts of radiance.
Impressive ... One of the challenges of the circadian novel, especially when it’s also a closed-room novel, is to channel enough backstory through the present moment to establish the significance of what might be dismissed as too routine or trivial for literary attention ... Thammavongsa achieves this, though there is one threadbare moment ... Beautifully understated sadness at the end ... The constrained setting, deep investment in a feminised and minoritised experience and disengagement from plot will alienate some readers. They will miss a highly crafted, layered and clever novel.
Bitey ... Lets us into the secret yet ubiquitous world of nail salons, skilfully opening up the experience of those who work there, who are often Asian immigrants ... Thammavongsa captures the role of beauty salons as modern confessionals ... Richly observational, this us-versus-them tale illuminates a rarely seen slice of life. It probably won’t make you laugh or cry, but it will certainly make you think twice before getting a new set of acrylics.
Ning’s narration is deeply observational and unsentimental, delivering her insights with cutting clarity and humor. Thammavongsa balances dry wit with emotional restraint, offering glimpses of vulnerability through precise language and physical detail. Her mastery lies in what’s left unsaid and in the quiet power of a single, cutting sentence.
Skillful, witty ... Astute, dry-humored ... It is a delight to immerse oneself in the everyday drama of the salon's 'brightly lit box' with the rhythmic cadence of Thammavongsa's storytelling and the narrative spaces she creates for readers' imaginations to ignite.
