When Tony revealed the cover for his book I commented on his IG post about how I liked the prominent placement of the word “fiction” on the cover. Funny enough, during the experience of reading the book, I turned frequently back to that little word, placed so centrally on the cover, clinging to it like a life raft. It’s all made up right?
Rejection is a collection of stories that are essentially deep psychological dives / character studies of people we might deem to be overreacting to some experience of rejection. Theres a weird feminist straight dude, a lady, a gay dude, a tech bro, a person that rejects all identity labels, a prose-poem on the metaphor of catching fish, and then a meta-commentary on the book and rejection. What arises is that maybe maybe they are only slightly more exaggerated than what actual rejection feels like.
Take Ahegao. No spoilers but the huge monologue in the story is extended even further from the PR version, and its more fun because of it. It involves a gay character who struggles with coming out a second time as a kind of anime-Dom, the idiosyncrasy of his sexuality insufficiently housed in a term like “gay.” His sexuality bristles as it has to transfer from the place of fantasy to reality, and the result is a kind of anticipation of rejection that litters his life with lost boyfriends. I couldn’t stop reading the insane sexual fantasy monologue and I even read a bit aloud. You’ll know what part I’m talking about when you read it. (Ekin asked me from bed: “does reading that make you feel good?” I laughed but I’m still not sure.) Ahegao made me feel stimulated but hollow the way Nathan Fielder does sometimes, even though I don’t think Tony’s a nihilist in the same way. He’s more of a humanist really.
The stories are connected in a lithe and delicate way—people are lovers, siblings, and strangers. What the connections show you is that the people in the book think they’re a lot worse off than they appear, and that people have really distorted impressions of how they come off to people.
Because I took Tony’s class I understood the book as an exemplification of some of the best ideas of what it means to write well: write about those things that you think “handicap” you as a writer. They will l turn into your strengths. Write about things that you think are not fit for writing and things that allow you to channel your vernaculars. The book is something like a treatise on the status of fiction today, written in fiction. It encouraged me to write fiction that is smarter and more troubling, that intervenes in the current academic discourse on identity and media but is also a form of expression. In the book we are made privy to many of the characters deepest, darkest, most sexual, violent, and disturbing fantasies, and the the conditions that lead to the birthing of those fantasies is often the plot itself of each story. Its all made up, its all made up, i kept saying.
Is it? That seems to be part of the thrill, that Tony addresses in the latter chapters, where the fiction is less autofiction and more like metafiction; reflections that read like meditations on the roles of “reader” “author” “character” and “text.” “Main Charcter” is in particular an intense and troubling provocation of the themes of identity and character in the wake of social media and the internet. Its kindof the lore of a post that existed on reddit somewhere. I envisioned it in “the wild” somewhere, online, on an actual post, existing as it should. It’s about the rejection of identity, from a particularly Asian American perspective. The screed on Twitter made me happy that I am not so Twitter dependent but it did make me reflect on my other digital dependencies. Throughout the book, the Internet and social media serves only to exacerbate and exaggerate many of the distorted emotions that emerge out of various rejections: whether its the rejection of identity, romantic rejection, rejection of fantasy; rejecting the reader. (The last story is basically made for you to dislike, so you walk away with a sour taste.)
Tony has something to say about fiction the concept itself, and he has to implicate himself to say it. I mean, it’s ALL made up, but that doesn’t seem sufficient to describe the space that fiction occupies in our daily lives. He presents a kind of connection between fiction and the more mundane daily act of envisioning the kind of world we want to live in. When people don’t do what they want you to do, you invent what you want them to do. Then you live your life. The rest is fiction.