I sobbed the first time I read “The Paper Menagerie.” Sitting in my AP Literature class, I frantically began switching tabs from the PDF, a failed attempt to suppress the tears welling in my eyes. The story is one of loss, fear, and anger wrapped up into a whimsical tale of childhood magic. I’m a victim of Ken Liu’s writing, and it has left me in emotional shock. 

“The Paper Menagerie” is a short story following a half-Chinese boy, Jack, and his experience being raised in a Asian-American household. It’s an endearing piece discussing identity, racial insecurity, and growing up, a combination I heavily relate to. 

I discovered parallels between Jack’s sentiment towards his Asian culture and my own. Reading how Jack forced his mom to speak English made me cringe. My heart panged when he asked his dad if he had “ch*nk” eyes. Although my feelings towards my Vietnamese culture were not as harsh, the story exposed my lack of commitment to learning about it. As I progressed through the story, and learned how the older Jack bitterly regretted  not cherishing his mom’s background, it inclined me to learn about my Mom’s heritage. 

Liu lovingly portrays the intersection of culture and family relationships. A key symbol in the story is the mother’s magical origami figurines, the protagonist’s primary connection to his childhood and culture. Jack’s mom conveys love through her paper tigers, a perfect symbol of the indirect affection of Asian parents, often displayed through food, fruit, and academic praise, but never words. It was captivating to see this accurate representation of Asian maternal love.

“The Paper Menagerie” is a tragic, whimsical piece captured within a mere 18 pages, yet the emotions it induces have revitalized me.