Nguyet Tran
The book was first published in 2019, six years before I started reading it, yet it feels strikingly relevant. With Trump back in the presidency, many of the “napkin economics” discussed in 2019 are resurfacing and this book effectively debunks them with convincing arguments. Several ideas stood out to me:
1. Cutting taxes for the very wealthy does not benefit the poor, a claim the author supports with data. Reducing taxes for the bottom 90% can stimulate economic activity, whereas tax cuts for the top 10% do not show the same effect. Yet many countries continue to tax lower-income groups more heavily than the wealthy.
2. Policymakers place excessive emphasis on GDP growth, often at the expense of the poor, even though this trade-off is neither necessary nor economically sound.
3. Unconditional cash transfers (UBI or near-UBI) are presented as the most effective way to help people escape poverty.
4. High marginal tax rate will even reduce the inequality of income pre-tax and prompt people to find meaningful jobs over less meaningful ones but with high salaries.
That said, I want to challenge the chapter on immigration. The author argues that people are often reluctant to migrate because they lack social networks, fear the unknown, and face diminishing economic returns due to high housing costs. However, this framework does not fully account for one migration pattern. Low-skilled workers in one town or village can migrate illegally and in groups to other countries in pursuit of better opportunities. By moving collectively and outside legal channels, they maintain social networks; prior examples of those who moved first reduce uncertainty and fear; and high housing costs matter less when migrants live illegally anyway. Moreover, favorable currency exchange rates can make even modest earnings or savings highly impactful. This is happening in some villages in my home country, and I believe similar patterns exist in many other countries. I therefore wonder whether the author has fully accounted for this population in their research.
3.5/5. Short, wholesome, easy to read. The overall idea is to create a gift economy where people prioritize sharing over personal hoarding. I can see how this works in a small community, but I doubt how this can work on a large scale. The book would have been better if the author had discussed how the gift economy has helped the Indigenous community on a large scale.
Btw I love the shade thrown at ExxonMobile CEO.
If you like this book, you can consider The heart of Buddha's Teaching of Thich Nhat Hanh.
3.5/5, but Goodreads doesn't allow me to rate by half points so I had a hard time thinking whether this book should get a 3 or 4.
Positive:
1. I appreciate that Kristin Hannah let the perspective of the women be heard. Their voice and their significant contribution and losses were ignored and invalidated for a long time. This is a great opportunity to let their perspective be known to the readers.
2. I appreciate how Kristin Hannah doesn't sugarcoat the U.S. government's deception, the ignorance of a privileged American majority at the time, or the devastation the U.S. military inflicted on Vietnam. She acknowledges that the U.S. was, in fact, invading the country under the guise of defending democracy, using patriotism to funnel young, naive men into death and destruction, and leaving long-lasting consequences not only for Vietnam but also for Americans themselves. This honesty sets the book apart from much of American media, which often leans heavily into a narrative of heroism.
3. The long battle that Frankie had to overcome represented permanent mental scars that all the soldiers, nurses, doctors, and war participants faced. This helps the readers understand why we should not support wars by any means.
4. The book was well written technically, no doubt.
Why I can't give it a higher score:
1. It's too strange that there wasn't a single named Vietnamese character, even though the story was set during the Vietnam War. I understand that Kristin Hannah wanted to focus on American women's perspectives, but the complete absence of named Vietnamese characters creates a sharp divide: the Americans are individuals with names, while the Vietnamese remain an unnamed “them”, or a boy, a person, or just Vietnamese with no clear storyline. As a Vietnamese woman, I feel like we were reduced to background scenery in an American narrative, which somewhat contradicts the theme in the book is that both Americans and Vietnamese citizens were screwed due to the malicious decisions of the U.S. government.
2. The book is titled The Women, yet the narrative centers almost entirely on Frankie. I recognize that “the women” in the story shared similar experiences: having their contribution dismissed, their mental health shattered, and their lives upended without support or understanding, even from their own families. But I still feel Kristin Hannah could have given space to other perspectives. Frankie's privileged background and her romantic storyline do not reflect everyone's experience. What about the others? How did Barb, a Black nurse in the 1960s, navigate the war, the racism, and the trauma? Instead, her story is condensed into a few brief mentions with little depth, leaving a significant perspective unexplored and turning her into a mere token character for performative diversity.
3. Finally, the writing didn't resonate with me emotionally. I didn't feel moved by the casualties, the bombings, or the trauma, and the love stories didn't captivate me either. It's not that I'm a cold-hearted psychopath, I swear it's the writing itself that felt soulless. I highly recommend The Sorrows of War by Bảo Ninh if you want to see how a truly powerful writer can make you terrified of war, devastated by a protagonist's PTSD, and heart-wrenched over a tragic wartime love story. All in barely a third of the length of this book.
The plot was really promising, but the writing could use some work:
1. The diary part felt way too detailed. No one writes down full conversations like that. It would've worked better if the writer just described what happened from the character's point of view.
2. Some scenes and descriptions dragged on and repeated things without adding much emotion or depth.
3. Tania, Esther, and Annabelle all sounded pretty similar. Only Chloe's POV really stood out as different. It was unclear why Tania stopped being friends with Poppy.
John Ambrose, you were done dirty.
Lara Jean, you were not choosing between real Peter and dream John Ambrose, you were choosing between past Peter and real John Ambrose.
Peter, you must have boundaries. By the end of the book, you didnt realize your wrongdoings, so I will not read the final book.
Jenny Han, you need to stop forcing the first love narrative.
This book has so much potential to be better. I watched the series first and I saw how poignant it was, so it's really unfortunate that the intentional simplistic writing could not convey the gravity of the characters' struggles.
I like the fact that the characters did grow. They missed so many opportunities together due to their own insecurities and miscommunication, which is definitely common to young people. In the final chapters, both Connell and Marianne became frank to each other, but the book ending fell flat compared to the series in portraying the growth of the characters in dealing with the final miscommunication.
3.5/5. The book would have got 4 stars if Cecelia didn't try to drag it until the characters were in their 50s. However, it was an enjoyable read. Many moments were wholesome and the letter from Alex was touching. And even though the book took much more time than the movie to get Alex and Rosie together, I still prefer the book as it was more humane and realistic.
