Book Review: Rental House by Weike Wang
From the moment I came across Rental House, I felt an undeniable pull. In a world where love stories often gloss over the complexities of family dynamics, Weike Wang invites us into a hilarious yet poignant exploration of what it really means to marry not just a partner but their entire family—along with all the cultural baggage that entails. As someone who has navigated the choppy waters of cultural intersections, I was eager to dive into this narrative.
At the heart of Rental House are Keru and Nate, two Yale graduates whose love story unfolds against the backdrop of their strikingly different family values and cultural expectations. Keru, raised in a strict Chinese immigrant household, grapples with her parents’ rigid worldview that equates success with suffering. In contrast, Nate hails from a rural, white family where achievements seem to come without the same burdens. Their decision to vacation together with their families brings to light an all-too-familiar yet often unspoken question: Are we truly compatible?
What I found most relatable about Keru’s character was her realization that marrying Nate also meant "marrying her in-laws." Wang encapsulates this truth beautifully, particularly when Keru reflects on her naïveté regarding the complexities of family relationships. The humor woven throughout these familial encounters is infused with memorable quotes, like: “Keru had failed to consider until she gained such in-laws and realized oh f*&@, so that’s what meant by the phrase you marry your in-laws.” It’s this mix of wit and candor that makes the book both engaging and reflective.
Wang’s writing is smart and incisive, bringing a vibrant pulse to even the most nuanced interactions. She nails the awkwardness of social dynamics; for example, when Nate’s mother subtly undermines Keru’s career choices with a remark about Asian intelligence in science. This kind of familial friction invites readers to not just observe but to also reflect on their own experiences, resonating with the complexities of diverse backgrounds coming together.
However, I found that the second half of the novel lost some of its initial momentum. Shifting focus to Keru and Nate’s evolving lives introduced new characters and societal reflections, which felt somewhat disconnected from the rich character exploration that grounded the first half. Wang herself mentioned that Rental House might be best approached as two novellas—an insight that sparked some of my critiques.
Despite this, I couldn’t help but appreciate the deftness with which Wang explores themes of identity, belonging, and the often-unspoken pressures that accompany marriage. It’s a relatable, witty, and at times heartbreaking account of how our upbringing shapes our adult relationships.
I would recommend Rental House to readers who enjoy character-driven tales infused with cultural insights and humor. Whether you’ve grappled with in-law relationships, navigated an interracial romance, or simply enjoy a witty narrative, this novel has something for everyone. Personally, it left me reflecting on the layers of love—both awkward and beautiful—that define our relationships.
In the end, Rental House is a charming exploration of love’s complexity, earning a solid 4 out of 5 stars in my book!