This is perhaps the book’s greatest power: It makes space for complexity without relinquishing the grip of a good story ... Chan reveals how war is experienced in bodies and hearts, breaking down the morale of those who remain ... At first, the point of the dual timelines feels uncertain, although it does provide context for Cecily’s guilt about her family’s disintegration. Then the threads converge, forming a braid that proves to be stronger than its individual parts ... At times, Chan’s narrative feels strained. The distinction between nation and family, between men with lofty plans for their country and women with quieter ones for their children, is drawn too cleanly. There’s a tendency to overexplain both the thematic shades of the novel and its historical context, which, while complex and under-recorded, can stand on its own. Often I felt the hand of the author leading me to conclusions, and wished she trusted me to find my own way. Indeed, the power of this story is such that I would want to. What makes the book pulse with life is not the grand sweep of its ideas but the tenderness in its details, the ordinary ways that these characters love and laugh in the face of the extraordinary.
Searing ... Less interested in probing the geopolitical and moral questions arising from colonialism than in humanizing the effects of oppression on a few individuals ... With authenticity and passion, Chan succeeds in imparting their pain and will to survive, through singular characters whose flaws and contradictions are as fascinating as their strengths.
World War II might be the most popular subject for historical fiction, but Vanessa Chan's debut, The Storm We Made, defies the typical focus on the Western front and a clear-cut distinction between good and evil that characterizes many books ... Chan's chronicles of atrocities against Malayan children serve as a bracing reminder that despite the way World War II is often depicted in fiction, it was not romantic. The Storm We Made invites reflection about who should be considered the main characters of this war. It's clear that people in every locale affected by its brutalities deserve to be protagonists, and Chan's novel proves there are still fresh perspectives to reveal.
Vanessa Chan depicts a wartime that is both extraordinary and quotidian at once. Her storytelling is crisp and bracing, without overlooking the profound complexities of events leading up to the Japanese occupation, as the novel explores every which way that the lives of one family in Kuala Lumpur are upended in the aftermath ... Chan showcases dazzling stylistic flair as she alternates between timelines, blending thematic touches of thrilling spy craft and domestic drama within the outlines of this spellbinding historical novel ... Profound in its empathy and devastating in its consequences, The Storm We Made considers the deeply personal implications of a world at war, and makes Vanessa Chan's first novel an unforgettable glimpse at how extraordinary times fall upon ordinary people.
Dynamic if overstuffed ... Though the short chapters make for brisk pacing, the characters wind up feeling underdeveloped amid all the various plot threads. Still, Chan convincingly portrays a family caught in the horrors of war.
The ultimate cost of her shortsightedness and self-delusion is excruciating, to the point that finishing the book is like waking up from a nightmare with relief that it didn’t really happen. A chilling exploration of the costs of human weakness and desire, in a compelling and vividly wrought historical context.
