Hotel on the corner of Bitter and Sweet, Jamie Ford


Author: Jamie Ford

Rating: 🌟🌟💫

A romantic story amongst teen immigrants in the back drop of world war 2 and the Japanese internment in US. A second generation Chinese boy struggling with the choice between his motherland, his current home America, and his love for a Japanese girl. Seeped in nostalgia, young love and complex ties with family, it could very well be a John Greene novel. The novel runs back and forth as flashback between 1945 and 1985, and even though it’s about 40 years old the debate on patriotism, nationalism, immigration and globalisation continues with the ever changing definition of home. 





I am a stickler for immigrant stories probably a part of me who has moved many cities and countries, both home and new worlds have appealed. There is a sweet excitement to venture into unknown but also the bitter loss of a comfortable home. It has never stopped her from moving but every home and experience has stayed with her and become my story. 


So after reading a serious book on an artists life in a socialist Russia, this story based on Asian immigrants in USA during WW2, came as a respite celebrating the beauty and strength of human emotions in a tragedy. 


The aspect of immigration are so deeply rooted where people continue to be torn basis politics and history. Japan-US, China- Japan, China - US, the strange combination of alies and enemies. And the commoners first, second generations seek their identities amongst the tests of loyalty. Who are you? When you need to pick a side? Why can’t you be anything and everything? Nationalism debate has taken it to another level, but this debate is no different to religion, war over land, power, and what not. Physical boundaries hold us but Internet has connected us like nothing ever


Some lines stayed with me: 


But choosing to lovingly care for her in cancer was like string a plane into a mountain as gently as possible. The crash is imminent; it’s how you spend your time on the down that counts. 


The lack of communication between father and son was basedona lifetime of isolation. Henry had been an only child, without siblings around to talk to, to share things with constantly. 


His mother looked at the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh. The kind of sigh you give when you just script that something bad has happened. When a relative dies, and you say,”at least he lived a long life.” Or when your house burns to the ground and you think, “at least we have our health”. It was a sigh of resigned disappointment. A consolation prize, of coming in second and having nothing to show for it. Of coming up empty, having wasted your time, because in the end, what you do, and who you are, doesn’t matter one lousy bit. Nothing does. 


I had my chance, and sometimes in life, there are no second chances. You look at what you have, not what you miss, and you move forward. Like that broken record we found. Some things just can’t be fixed. 


And the final words which summarise the essence of the book... 

He’ll do what he always did, find the sweet among the bitter. 


In all honesty I would have preferred to watch it as a movie as somehow the book dragged too long for a predictable story. And I literally skipped parts in last 50 pages without missing anything. However I gave it still a 3 as the book tries hard  but just like once you walk out of the hall, the movie also doesn’t stay with you except the sepia feels of the film just like the sepia theme of the book cover. 

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