Disorientation is an absurd, often funny and big-hearted novel that skewers academia, modern dating, and Asian studies. While the punches don’t always land, and at times the satirical tone takes away from stronger dialogue or character moments, it’s still an entertaining ride.

Ingrid is a neurotic PhD candidate drawn to the perceived security and romance of a life in academia, ignoring the red flags she encounters that suggest that all is not right with the East Asian Studies department (or with the subject of her struggling dissertation, famed poet Xiao-Wen Chou). Her struggles with academia, dating, family, and friendship feel relatively grounded and even at times heartfelt, providing a counterbalance to the otherwise over-the-top shenanigans of the book. She feels like a lived-in character, though at times her denseness is played up a little too much for laughs.

Throughout the book, Ingrid slowly comes to terms with her own internalized racism and starts recognizing the flaws in the world around her. Much of the book’s early cringe comedy comes from her initial willingness to overlook pretty obvious instances of racism or weird behavior, in ways that are a bit hit or miss. For example, Ingrid’s pathological refusal to call people “white” or ignorance to her boyfriend’s cringingly obvious Asian fetish do not feel as well explained in her character as some of her other over the top traits, like her neurotic need for security and junk food addiction. However, I did enjoy watching her grow as a character as she engaged more with other politically involved Asian Americans and learned to stand up for herself.

I also largely enjoyed the cast of side characters and Ingrid’s relationships with them. I loved watching Ingrid develop a deeper relationship with her parents and weather the ups and downs with her best friend Eunice. Vivian is perhaps my favorite character, whom Ingrid initially perceives as an intimidating social justice warrior but gradually comes to recognize as a lot more caring and vulnerable than she appears. 

However, I had some objections to Eunice and her brother Alex’s character development in the last third or so of the book. Eunice is apolitical for most of the story, even as Ingrid becomes more politically aware, but then she suddenly becomes racially conscious because off-screen she read some of Vivian’s research. Meanwhile, Alex starts as an Asian MRA/ redpiller (the kind that chases white women but gets mad at Asian women who date white men), but then suddenly gets over this behavior and begins dating other East Asians. I found this a somewhat unsatisfying ending that didn’t unpack Alex’s ideology as much as it probably should have (especially since redpiller Asian men can still be very misogynistic in their relationships with Asian women– them choosing to date other East Asians instead of chasing white women doesn’t mean that they’re “healed”). 

The book’s absurd humor and political critique seems the strongest when directed towards academia and Asian studies. I was entertained by the crazy lengths that Ingrid goes to in order to finish her dissertation, and a lot of the satire of academia and Asian studies checked out. Beneath the humor, the book makes the salient point that academia is not politically neutral and cannot be recuperated from its tendencies to reproduce harmful systems of power.

Many of its explorations of internalized racism and interracial dating anxieties do land as well, mixing punchy jokes with legitimate pathos. However, some of the jokes about interracial dating and right-wing politics didn’t seem as novel or clever, perhaps because they’re more common topics of satire and felt like low hanging fruit to me. I also think that Michael’s pivot to a right wing nationalist grifter could have been played better. Plenty of pretty racist war hawk type guys have Asian wives and occupy a strange balance between being fascinated and openly fetishistic of East Asian cultures and being repulsed by them. 

I also think that the book missed some opportunities to be more inclusive in its analysis of Asian American experiences. Ingrid is notably part of the East Asian Studies department, but there is a minor postdoc in the department with a South Asian name, and Vivian herself has a Vietnamese name. However, it’s never clear whether the satire in the book is supposed to be specific to East Asian Americans, or whether Ingrid’s experiences are supposed to be universal “Asian American” experiences– even when many of them will not be, given the way that Southeast and South Asians are perceived differently than East Asians in American society.

Overall, I found Disorientation to be a funny and surprisingly heartfelt, if occasionally uneven, novel that is not afraid to be messy in its skewering send-up of dating culture, academia, and East Asian American neuroses.