Cirrus@Austlit

'Mimi spoke to Shu-Ling Chua about family, forgiveness, gratitude, and learning to face her past.'

'My phone’s lock screen is a photo of Ah Ma in her late teens at the beach, leaning against a fishing boat dragged on shore. She wears a short-sleeved white shirt tucked into high-waisted shorts. Her smile is enigmatic, framed by a puff of curls. I study the lighting, her careful grip on the boat’s rim, her elegantly bent leg. Shoulders back and chin tilted ever so slightly, Ah Ma glows with quiet self-assurance. When I first saw the photo, I had teased Mum, “Who’s this sexy lady?” I was shocked to learn she was my grandmother and wondered if glamour had skipped a generation.' (Introduction)

'ECHOES is a curious and lyrical collection of personal essays from writer, essayist, critic and poet Shu-Ling Chua which references art and literature, pop culture and nostalgia. It gathers small joys, from a figure-hugging ‘disco dress’ to learning to sing Koo Mei’s ‘Bu Liao Qing’ 不了情 to the swish of washing machines. And asks: what does one unknowingly inherit?

'In the title story, Echoes, inspired by old Chinese pop songs and their modern versions, Shu-Ling unexpectedly discovers past and present colliding despite the limits of language and translation and the gaps that remain there. 'Years later, I had presumed consuming the same cultural products would help me piece together her life. There is however a river—linguistic, cultural, historical—I cannot cross.'

'In (Im)material Inheritances, Shu-Ling considers glamour and the way we dress for the world, delighting in the feminine, while peering at old family photographs searching and longing for the material links with her mother and grandmother. And finally in To Fish for the Moon, Shu-Ling takes us on a watery journey from her share house washing machine to her great-grandparents' laundry business in Malaysia, to red date tea and a bathtub, examining the minute detail of our domestic lives, the habits and rituals, their origins and secrets, sorrows and delights, and shining a light on their place and meaning.' (Publication summary)

'Drawing on personal experience and pop culture, Show Me Where It Hurts explores the isolation and frustration of living with chronic pain and mental illness, not to mention battling a medical system steeped in misogyny. “Pain – both physical and mental – is more than a number or shaded area on a chart,” writes Kylie Maslen. Her carefully researched essays demand the reader to see her as a whole person, one whose life is both similar to and different from theirs. She dates, enjoys swimming in the ocean, and has spent countless hours in waiting rooms, in hospital and resting at home.' (Introduction)

'Set in 1990s Cabramatta, The Coconut Children opens with charismatic 16-year-old Vince Tran celebrating his release from two years in juvenile detention. His laughter, “thundering through the entire neighbourhood”, drips with stolen homegrown mango as his friends push him in a shopping trolley. The procession passes his childhood friend Sonny Vuong, who dreams of being whisked away from her emotionally unpredictable mother. Instead, the dutiful Sonny finds solace in bodice-rippers, schoolyard gossip with her best friend and conversations with her good-natured father and sassy grandmother.'(Introduction) 

'Things Nobody Knows But Me opens with Amra Pajalić learning, at age 16, that her mother’s illness is in fact bipolar disorder, and proceeds to build back to this moment. Through interlinked vignettes, she presents complex portraits of maternal grandmother Adevija, mother Fatima and her child self, and examines the fractured relationships between all three. The episodic structure compartmentalises key events, supporting Pajalić to juggle multiple perspectives effectively, while also providing much-needed emotional respite. As she pieces together her family’s past from their accounts – Adevija’s marriage is the result of blackmail and Fatima’s is arranged – the author experiences, and demonstrates, the power of storytelling.' (Introduction)

''It's too sweet and gentle,' I say of the pink. 'I want it to pop. I want what you're wearing.' 

'I turn from the mirror. 'It's a bit watermelon candy,' the salesgirl agrees. She returns with another tube of lipstick, its surface sanitised. I wipe my lips clean and try the fourth shade, a dark don't-fuck-with-me crimson. I smile, then laugh at my reflection. My first Dior lipstick.' (Introduction)

' My heels clipped the pavement, tap-tapping a secret code: What are you looking for?"

I swept past Knightsbridge, where Canberra's young professionals (public servants, mostly) line up for half an hour, sometimes longer, to dance.I turned left before the bus interchange, surveyed the precocious smokers outside Academy Club, then right down a laneway into Garama Place.' (Introduction)