Joseph Han’s Nuclear Family plunges readers into the chaotic heart of a Korean American family in Hawai’i, delivering a raw and often darkly humorous portrayal of familial dysfunction. Fans of books like Kirstin Valdez Quade’s The Five Wounds, the series Shameless, or the film Everything Everywhere All at Once will find themselves drawn to the Cho family’s messy reality. While Han undoubtedly demonstrates promise as an author, Nuclear Family, as a Nuclear Family Book, struggles with structural and thematic coherence, and its venture into magical realism feels somewhat forced. Despite these shortcomings, the novel offers genuinely poignant moments, particularly towards its conclusion, and consistently establishes a strong sense of place. The characters’ ambivalence and their complex, often fraught, yet occasionally playful, interactions are also noteworthy strengths.
The narrative unfolds through multiple perspectives and a non-linear timeline, piecing together the events leading up to and following Jacob Cho’s ill-fated attempt to cross the Korean Demilitarized Zone. The Cho family, proprietors of several restaurants in Hawai’i, includes Grace, a college-aged daughter with a fondness for marijuana, and Jacob, who has relocated to Seoul to teach English. The family’s world is shaken when Grace and her father witness a news report detailing Jacob’s failed border crossing. Confusion, anger, and fear consume the Chos as they struggle to contact Jacob, who is detained by South Korean authorities. The sections set in Hawai’i explore the aftermath of this incident in the weeks and months that follow, while Jacob’s chapters delve into the circumstances that propelled him towards this desperate act. We gain insights into his childhood in Hawai’i, where he grappled with feeling like an outsider, and his struggles with repressed sexuality and desires. In Seoul, Jacob’s narrative takes on a feverish quality, presenting fragmented scenes and sequences of events. He appears to be battling a mysterious illness, manifesting as rashes and persistent fatigue. His sense of alienation intensifies in Seoul; despite his Korean heritage, his imperfect fluency in the language and American mannerisms further isolate him. Adding to his turmoil, he is haunted by the ghost of his grandfather, intent on possessing him. Interwoven with Jacob’s narrative are chapters focusing on his family, particularly Grace. The Cho family’s reputation crumbles in the wake of Jacob’s televised debacle, severely impacting their restaurants. Regular customers dwindle, and neighbors and church members distance themselves, seemingly reveling in the family’s misfortune and propagating false rumors of espionage and treachery. Grace, already harboring resentment towards her parents and brother, exacerbated by what she perceives as Jacob’s favored treatment, seeks solace in marijuana.
While the realistic dialogue is appreciated, a desire for more profound exchanges lingers. Much of the conversation is either bantering and argumentative or characterized by a hazy, drug-induced confusion. While these moments can be entertaining and feel authentic, the novel would benefit from more scenes allowing readers to witness deeper character interactions, particularly in moments of heightened emotion and drama.
Han’s choice of multiple perspectives occasionally falters, with segments dedicated to characters who contribute minimally to the central Cho family narrative. Focusing exclusively on the Chos, and further exploring Grace and Jacob’s parents, would have been more impactful. Furthermore, abrupt time skips disrupt the immediacy of the Cho’s experiences, creating a slight detachment from their story. Jacob’s storyline, in particular, feels scattered. While some ambiguity may be intentional, much of his narrative is underwhelming, failing to establish him as a fully developed character in the same way Grace is. Exploring his sexuality in greater depth or offering more glimpses into his personality would have been beneficial. Beyond his ability to perceive ghosts and his awkward demeanor, little is revealed about Jacob. In contrast, Grace interacts with a range of individuals, from family to friends and colleagues, while Jacob’s chapters primarily depict him feeling unwell and experiencing potential possession. The fantastical element of the grandfather’s ghost is underdeveloped and functions more as a plot device. Perhaps chapters dedicated to the grandfather’s backstory could have made his ghostly presence more convincing and integrated into the narrative.
The sibling relationship between Grace and Jacob also feels underdeveloped for much of the book. Jacob rarely considers Grace (or his parents), preoccupied with possession and possible hallucinations. Grace is undoubtedly angry, but more exploration of her thoughts about Jacob and their past relationship would enrich the narrative. The fleeting glimpses of their bond before Jacob’s departure for Seoul are unsatisfying, and the framing of Jacob’s sexuality through Grace’s perspective feels somewhat jarring. However, the latter half of the novel does offer more interaction between them. While the final pages contain moments that may not resonate with all readers (fart humor), the novel’s concluding act is significantly more poignant and cathartic than what precedes it. Han avoids sentimentality while delivering genuinely moving moments of family reconciliation.
Ultimately, Nuclear Family is a mixed experience. It is recommended for readers who enjoy family dramas or seek stories exploring complex family dynamics, generational and cultural divides, failure, guilt, and reconciliation. Despite its imperfections, Nuclear Family suggests Joseph Han is an author to watch, and future works are anticipated with interest, especially for those seeking a compelling nuclear family book.
