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Weike Wang

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Joan Is Okay: A Novel Hardcover – January 18, 2022

by Weike Wang (Author)

4.1 1,119 ratings

Editors' pick Best Literature & Fiction

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NEW YORK TIMES EDITORS’ CHOICE • A witty, moving, piercingly insightful new novel about a marvelously complicated woman who can’t be anyone but herself, from the award-winning author of Chemistry

LONGLISTED FOR THE ANDREW CARNEGIE MEDAL • “A deeply felt portrait . . . With gimlet-eyed observation laced with darkly biting wit, Weike Wang masterfully probes the existential uncertainty of being other in America.”—Celeste Ng, author of Little Fires Everywhere

ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR: The New York Times Book Review, The New Yorker, NPR, The Washington Post, Vox

Joan is a thirtysomething ICU doctor at a busy New York City hospital. The daughter of Chinese parents who came to the United States to secure the American dream for their children, Joan is intensely devoted to her work, happily solitary, successful. She does look up sometimes and wonder where her true roots lie: at the hospital, where her white coat makes her feel needed, or with her family, who try to shape her life by their own cultural and social expectations.

Once Joan and her brother, Fang, were established in their careers, her parents moved back to China, hoping to spend the rest of their lives in their homeland. But when Joan’s father suddenly dies and her mother returns to America to reconnect with her children, a series of events sends Joan spiraling out of her comfort zone just as her hospital, her city, and the world are forced to reckon with a health crisis more devastating than anyone could have imagined.

Deceptively spare yet quietly powerful, laced with sharp humor, Joan Is Okay touches on matters that feel deeply resonant: being Chinese-American right now; working in medicine at a high-stakes time; finding one’s voice within a dominant culture; being a woman in a male-dominated workplace; and staying independent within a tight-knit family. But above all, it’s a portrait of one remarkable woman so surprising that you can’t get her out of your head.

Print length

224 pages
Language

English
Publisher

Random House
Publication date

January 18, 2022
Dimensions

5.79 x 0.87 x 8.53 inches
ISBN-10

0525654836
ISBN-13

978-0525654834
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From the Publisher

Dutiful Asian daughter Successful doctor Happily single Why won’t anyone believe that Joan is OK?

Charles Yu says, “This novel me laugh, think, feel a bunch of things, laugh some more. . . “

Editorial Reviews

Amazon.com Review

An Amazon Best Book of January 2022: Let me just be frank, Joan is more than okay. She’s a narrator I could read forever. She is naïve, unfiltered, intensely dedicated to her job as a New York City ICU doctor, whip-smart, wry, and views the world differently than most. And there are many reasons for that: she’s a Chinese-American; her wealthy brother is constantly trying to get her to move to Connecticut; her mother is returning to the states; and her father just died. How will she cope with it all? Weike Wang, author of the award-winning Chemistry, not only meets this pandemic moment with a story of identity and isolation but does so with such bright comedy and care that it is impossible not to feel protective over Joan and humanity as a whole. In other words, Joan is Okay, is another brilliant novel from Wang. —Al Woodworth, Amazon Editor

Review

“Downright hilarious, sometimes unintentionally, sometimes as a coping mechanism. Wang masterfully balances the many terrors of [the] provocative questions about motherhood, daughterhood, belonging and the many definitions of ‘home.’”—The New York Times Book Review

“This is the first book I loved this year. . . . It’s smart, heartfelt and insightful, and—I almost hate to say it—I literally laughed and cried.”—Erin Sells, NPR

“Incisive yet tender, written with elegant style and delicious verve. Joan isn’t just okay, she’s wonderful. I could listen to her smart, witty voice forever.”—Sigrid Nunez

“Joan . . . is solitary, literal-minded and extremely awkward—all of which contribute to the hilarity of this novel.”—The New York Times

“A wry, wise, and simply spectacular book.”—People (“Book of the Week”)

“A smart, powerful, and very contemporary read that touches on the struggles shaping the very world we live in today.”—Town & Country

“The uncomfortable humor and weird politics of family are front and center . . . all delivered with surprisingly caustic wit.”—Esquire

“Unflinchingly, Joan Is Okay challenges some of our fundamental views on home, belonging, family. A smart, quietly engaging novel that is also warm and moving.”—Ha Jin

“Wang has created a compelling character, utterly distinct, and the novel is carried by her dispassionate, clear-eyed, and often drily amusing narration. [The book’s] powerful insights will resonate with many.”—Claire Messud, Harper’s

“Wang takes us into the heart of the matter: death, dysfunction, xenophobia, misogyny, and the chronic misapprehension that passes between people of good intentions. The miracle that emerges, then, is just how funny this book is, how compassionate and visionary.”—Joshua Ferris

“I am staggered by Wang’s humor, heart, and brilliance. I loved Joan and I am pressing this book into your hands.”—Lily King

“This is an Asian American novel like no other, set in the heart of the pandemic, in the city I call home. Joan is my hero.”—Ed Park

“Full of sly wit, off-kilter observations, and misanthropic poetry. Readers will find in Joan a kindred soul.”—Lillian Li

“Joan is the perfect guide for our troubled times. I was left circling sentence after sentence.”—Heidi Pitlor

“Joan is a character I will be thinking about for a long time to come. I could not put this book down.”—Angie Kim

“Brilliant, precise, excruciatingly funny . . . Joan wins your deepest admiration at the same time as her vulnerability breaks your heart.”—Lara Vapnyar

“Joan’s voice and world view are hard to shake, and Wang’s writing is immensely rewarding and enjoyable.”—Charles Yu

“Scathingly witty . . . Wang is wonderful at understated sadness presented without a twinge of self-pity.”—Jim Shepard

About the Author

Weike Wang was born in Nanjing, China, and grew up in Australia, Canada, and the United States. She is a graduate of Harvard University, where she earned her undergraduate degree in chemistry and her doctorate in public health. Her first novel, Chemistry, received the PEN/ Hemingway Award for Debut Fiction, the Ploughshares John C. Zacharis First Book Award, and a Whiting Award. She is a “5 Under 35” honoree of the National Book Foundation and her work has appeared in The New Yorker. She currently lives in New York City.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

When I think about people, I think about space, how much space a person takes up and how much use that person provides. I am just under five feet tall and just under a hundred pounds. Briefly I thought I would exceed five feet, and while that would’ve been fine, I also didn’t need the extra height. To stay just under something gives me a sense of comfort, as when it rains and I can open an umbrella over my head.

Today someone said that I looked like a mouse. Five six and 290 pounds, he, in a backless gown with nonslip tube socks, said that my looking like a mouse made him wary. He asked how old I was. What schools had I gone to, and were they prestigious? Then where were my degrees from these prestigious schools?

My degrees are large and framed, I said. I don’t carry them around.

While not a mouse, I do have prosaic features. My eyes, hooded and lashless. I have very thin eyebrows.

I told the man that he could try another hospital or come back at another time. But high chance that I would still be here and he would still think that I looked like a mouse.

I read somewhere that empathy is repeating the last three words of a sentence and nodding your head.

My twenties were spent in school, and a girl in her twenties is said to be in her prime. After that decade, all is lost. They must mean looks, because what could a female brain be worth, and how long could one last?

Being in school often felt like a race. I was told to grab time and if I didn’t—that is, reach out the window and pull time in like a messenger dove—someone else in another car would. The road was full of cars, limousines, and Priuses, but there were a limited number of doves. With this image in mind, I can no longer ride in a vehicle with the windows down. Inevitably I will look for the dove and offer my hand out to be cut off.

—

My father’s stroke was fatal, having followed the natural course of a stroke of that magnitude to its predictable end. Usually people die from complications and I was grateful he hadn’t. Complications would’ve angered him, actually, to have died not from a single blow but from a total system shutdown, which was slower, more painful, and revealed just how vulnerable a person could be. Months prior, he had complained of headaches and eye pressure. I told him to get some tests done and he said that he would, which meant he wouldn’t. In China, my father ran a construction company that, in the last decade, had finally seen success. He was a typical workaholic and for most of my childhood, adolescence, adulthood, not often around.

When I got the news, I was in my office at the hospital, at work. My father had tripped over a bundle of projector cords during a meeting and bounced his head off a chair. As my mother was explaining—either the fall triggered the stroke or the stroke triggered the fall—I asked her to put the phone next to his ear. He was already unconscious, but hearing is the last sense to go. Given the time difference on my side, only morning in Manhattan since I was twelve hours behind, my father was still en route to the meeting that by my mother’s accounts was meant to be ordinary.

I asked my father how his drive was going and if he could, just for today, take a few hours off. He obviously didn’t reply, but I said either way this went, I was proud of him. He had never planned to retire and remained, until the very end, doing what he loved.

Chuàng, I said into the phone, and raised my fist into the air.

After my mother hung up, I sat there for a while, not facing the computer, and that was my mistake.

Having seen my fist go up, the two other doctors in the office asked whom I’d been talking to and what was that strange sound I just made. I said my father and that the sound was closer to a word but the word meant nothing.

My colleagues didn’t know I spoke Chinese, and I wanted to keep it that way to avoid any confusion. But the word did mean something, it had many different definitions, one of which was “to begin.”

It was late September, and my female colleague Madeline was teasing my male colleague Reese about summer, which was his favorite season so he was sad to see it go.

Only little girls like summers, Madeline said to Reese, little girls in flower crowns and paisley dresses.

Reese was a six-two, 190-pound all-American guy who went on casual dates with lots of women but flirted with only Madeline at work. I’m madly in love with you, he would say to her, in front of other colleagues like me, and Madeline would either ignore him completely or relentlessly try to get him back. Madeline was a five-seven, 139-pound robust German woman with a slight accent. She has had the same software engineer boyfriend for seven years, and they lived in an apartment with lots of plants.

What’s wrong? Madeline asked, sensing that I had been turned away from my monitor for too long.

I asked if one of them could cover my weekend shift. I apologized for the short notice, but I had to leave.

Both were happy to do it and even commended my request, since like my father I was a workaholic and known to never take time off. They asked where I was going and I said China, but just for the weekend. Then I turned from them and started packing up my things.

Fine, don’t tell us, said Reese.

I know what it is, Madeline said with a mischievous glint. You’re off to get married. You’re going to elope.

Elope is a funny word and, in hospital-speak for patients, meant “to leave the building at the risk of yourself and without a doctor’s consent.”

After I mentioned my father’s passing, Madeline gasped, covering her mouth and, for a second, shutting her eyes. Through her fingers, she asked if that had been my last conversation with him, and the sound I made, was it, then, a sound of grief?

I said, No, not really, and left it at that.

Reese and Madeline asked me a few more questions, like when I last saw him, and how long has it been since I left China?

You were born there, no? Reese asked, and I said I was born in the Bay Area.

California, Madeline said. A great place to be born.

But Oakland, I said, to not seem like I was giving my birthplace too much credit.

Right, Reese said.

Still, Madeline said.

I told them that the last time I saw my father was in spring. He had been in New York for business, a possible opportunity here, a new client, and, on his way back to JFK, drove past the hospital and met me in its first-floor atrium that had fake greenery and a small café. He bought me a cup of coffee and I was almost done with it when he had to leave and catch his flight. But to China, I rarely went, nor did I consider myself too Chinese.

The moment those words left my mouth, I wondered why I had said them. What was wrong with being too Chinese? Yet it’d always seemed that something was.

I felt a draft but that was impossible. Our shared office was a windowless room with a dozen desks lined up against the walls and a refreshments station in the back. The door opened to a hall that had no open windows and was used only to transport equipment. A folded-up wheelchair, an empty bed, pushed by hunched-over techs.

Madeline asked if I wanted some gum and it seemed we all did, so we passed the gum packet around and discussed the fresh minty flavor. She asked if I wanted the rest of the pack, international flights were long. How long exactly?

I said sixteen hours, to which Reese replied shit.

I was surprised that neither asked where in China I was going. The country was huge and much of it rural. Google Maps didn’t work there. But there were only two cities most people knew about, and I was going not to the capital but the other one by the sea.

Product details

Publisher ‏ : ‎ Random House (January 18, 2022)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 224 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0525654836
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0525654834
Item Weight ‏ : ‎ 8.5 ounces
Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 5.79 x 0.87 x 8.53 inches

Best Sellers Rank: #512,989 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #849 in Asian American Literature & Fiction
- #8,219 in Family Life Fiction (Books)
- #8,442 in Women's Domestic Life Fiction

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4.1 1,119 ratings

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Weike Wang

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Weike Wang was born in Nanjing, China, and grew up in Australia, Canada, and the United States. She is a graduate of Harvard University, where she earned her undergraduate degree in chemistry and her doctorate in public health. Her first novel, Chemistry, received the PEN/Hemingway Award for Debut Fiction, the Ploughshares John C. Zacharis First Book Award, and a Whiting Award. She is a “5 Under 35” honoree of the National Book Foundation and her work has appeared in The New Yorker. She currently lives in New York City.

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DoctorMom777

Home is the hospital

Reviewed in the United States on February 20, 2024

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An excellent read telling the story of Joan, an ICU physician just before and at the start of the pandemic. A story of an immigrant family, what it means to live up to, and not live up to, family expectations, how to be single by choice, cultural expectations, grief. Sometimes the hospital and the Ecmo machine and the organized chaos that is running the icu can feel more like home, more comforting, than the home one has. I see you, Joan.

One person found this helpful

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"Sherry"

Interesting and thoughtful

Reviewed in the United States on February 18, 2024

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Joan, a doctor in her mid 30s in one of the busiest intensive care units in a massive Manhattan hospital, is wildly idiosyncratic.

A child of Chinese immigrants, Joan feels most at home in her white coat on the floor of the hospital. So much so that she refuses time off, even picking up shifts when co-workers want more time off. She relishes being a cog, only feels successful if she returns home utterly exhausted from a day at work.

It’s unclear if Joan’s oddities are a result of her non traditional upbringing or perhaps being on the spectrum, but either way, she’s one of a kind. Devoted to work, happiest alone, successful and revered, when she’s not at the hospital, she’s trying to navigate social and cultural expectations that she doesn’t often understand or, when she does, want to follow.

Her older brother, Fang, is successful and demanding, living with his family in a mansion in Connecticut. Her parents are back in China and have been since their children entered adulthood. But then, her father dies unexpectedly bringing her mother back to America to reconnect — or possibly connect for the first time — with her children.

All of this, plus an overbearing neighbor, an oncoming pandemic, and a forced bereavement sabbatical from her job send Joan so far out of her comfort zone that she wonders how to find her way back.

The novel is spare in its prose, surprising and witty, and resonates on topics such as what it is to be Chinese American, working in the medical field on the precipice of uncharted territory, and figuring out how to be true to yourself in a strong willed family.

It won’t be for everyone, but it’s interesting and thoughtful.

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A Reader

It's Okay...but the abrupt ending, not so much

Reviewed in the United States on February 8, 2022

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I have mixed feelings about this book. The writing is good and interesting. The character was generally interesting. I appreciated gleaning a better understanding and clearer perspective of some of the root conflicts that come with being a child of immigrants.
The protagonist honestly seemed to be on the spectrum, so void of ability to understand basic human connections. I feel like there could have been clarity in that and expected it at some point in the book.
I did keep waiting for more to happen, and I think the whole covid aspect of the novel was very rushed through, like, hmmm, we've got to touch on this so shove a little bit in, but it was done super ineffectively. Just weirdly.
And then the ending. I mean it is a pet peeve of mine when authors pad books to make them long enough, and I hate when an author just comes up with a rushed ending that doesn't feel genuine, but this is the first time I felt like the author just hit a wall and gave up writing.
My husband was falling asleep as I was reading the book last night, presuming there was much more in the novel, and when I realized the last sentence I read was literally the last sentence of the book, I blurted out WTAF?, waking him up. I mean it was a downright bizarre ending to a novel. It was as if I was driving down a highway, no traffic in sight, when suddenly you have to slam on your brakes because the road is closed, no warning.
Would I recommend this book? Hard to say. I guess if you read my review and still want to read it, go for it. But forewarned is forearmed.

21 people found this helpful

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Ann S. Epstein

Joan is Thriving

Reviewed in the United States on March 29, 2022

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Joan is Okay by Weike Wang is a case study of human connection and cultural heritage. The protagonist, Joan, is a physician and the daughter of Chinese immigrants. Coworkers, neighbors, and family members, notably her brother and sister-in-law, cannot understand why she has no desire to get married or have children. Even Human Resources at the hospital where she works forces her to take a six-week leave for the sake of her mental health, a requirement which is itself a source of stress. Some readers may find Joan odd or lamentable, but I identified with her self-contained contentment. While I can’t attribute this trait to my cultural background, the peculiarities of my own family taught me to depend on myself. Many readers can claim the same. Rather than being a defense mechanism, finding pleasure in one’s work or solitary pursuits can be a source of genuine satisfaction. Oddly, so-called loners are often more understanding of others’ needs for intimacy than vice versa. They can empathize with the socially connected and yet, like Joan, look at themselves and decide they are more than okay. They are thriving. As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page www.amazon.com/author/asewovenwords), I admire Wang’s ability to render a seemingly distant person like Joan as a fully developed and wholly sympathetic character. Readers will also admire this sensitive and well-told portrait.

6 people found this helpful

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Joanne Merriam

Gorgeous, thoughtful book

Reviewed in the United States on June 30, 2022

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As with her first book, this novel is beautifully told with insightful observations and many funny moments amidst the sadness of the main character’s loss of her father. The ending felt brief and insufficient to me, but nonetheless it’s well worth your time to read.

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rachelkrantz

funny, smart and heartwarming

Reviewed in the United States on August 31, 2022

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As the title perhaps subliminally suggests, this novel is for if you loved Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine. Like that novel, it also centers on a compelling, funny, anti-social, on-the-spectrum-seeming voice. Also like that novel, ample time and attention are given to a mostly platonic male-female friendship, mothers and daughters, unprocessed grief, and the workplace. But this novel is also entirely its own, centering on Joan’s unique quirks, her Chinese-American and first-generation experiences, and a very different workplace. Joan is an ICU doctor, and in following her day-to-day, we deconstruct the backstory and interior life of someone who on the outside would likely be stereotyped and ignored as invisible. Besides being quite smart and empathy-building, this book is easy to read and is also just really funny.

2 people found this helpful

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Top reviews from other countries

DMS

Easy read

Reviewed in Canada on February 20, 2023

Verified Purchase

Easy read and enjoyable - did this one for our book club and it was a popular choice. It was clear to me that the main character had ASD, but this was never examined - maybe that was intentional, but I think it would have added another dimension to the story if it had been.

ARAlbert

Great but very disappointing ending!

Reviewed in Canada on March 6, 2022

Verified Purchase

I read it for something lighter! And many meaningful messages…..BUT very disappointed the ending!

2 people found this helpful

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