Grief, loss, and growth: A review of David Yoon’s City of Orange

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Grief, loss, and growth: A review of David Yoon’s City of Orange

By Sabrina Lo

A graphic featuring the cover of City of Orange in the center of orange, black, and yellow waves
Image credit: Rebecca Tam

In David Yoon‘s City of Orange, a man mysteriously wakes up into a seemingly post-apocalyptic world. With no form of identification and nothing but a head injury and a bottle of pain pills in his pocket, he can’t remember anything about who he is or how he ended up in his situation. Small broken pieces of his life pop back into memory as he carefully explores his surroundings in a desperate effort to survive. Then, out of the blue, he meets a little boy who completely scrambles his perception of the world he thought he was in.

Going into this book, I was excited to get to the end and find out why an apocalypse takes place; how the protagonist, Adam, became stranded in a strange land; and how he discovers who he was. In all honesty, however, I became a little more disappointed with each chapter I finished.

I will say that Yoon’s writing style is easily understandable yet fun to read. His descriptions of Adam’s memories, places, and people are so detailed that I can clearly picture everything in my head, but they aren’t so complex that they are confusing to comprehend. Yoon’s transitions between Adam’s present-day experiences to his memories are so seamless that sometimes it took me a second to realize a switch had been made. I’ve never read a book with transitions like that, but I really enjoyed it and wished to see it recreated in other novels.

The biggest gripe I have with this novel is the pacing. The first half of the book moves incredibly slowly. I understand this is meant to demonstrate how Adam progresses little by little each day he survives, but this section could’ve been condensed significantly while still retaining the same impact. Before he meets Clay, the little boy, Adam’s days are essentially identical:

  • Wake up.
  • Struggle to find food.
  • Cautiously attempt to explore his surroundings.
  • Repress any memories that came back.
  • Go back to sleep.

The prolonged start made my interest and attention flag. It is unnecessary to continue about Adam’s every day alone when all such days are practically identical.

Although Adam has a full-circle type of arc by the end of the book, Clay doesn’t have this and is underdeveloped as a character. Throughout the novel, there are several nods to Clay’s past, hinting at how he might have been raised, but it never goes deep enough to reveal anything of significance. It is clear that Clay’s upbringing was not all sunshine and rainbows: he kills birds and collects them in a bathtub for fun. It’s also evident that he is very smart. He speaks like an adult; he puts together multiple backup shelters in case his mother’s escape plan doesn’t work out; he single-handedly saves Adam’s life. However, the story doesn’t go much deeper than that. So much time is devoted to revealing every detail about Adam, that it would’ve been nice to read about some of Clay’s past since he is arguably the second most important character. Because of this, Clay has little to no development throughout the book.  A good side character should be given enough detail that they could have their own spin-off story without giving much more background, but given what little information is provided about Clay, I do not think he could have had his own spin-off.

One quality that Adam and Clay have in common is that both are Asian: Adam is Korean, and Clay is half Japanese and half white. It is also frequently mentioned that Margot, Adam’s wife, is Black. Though their racial backgrounds are discussed sporadically throughout the novel, the mentioning of race felt unnatural and forced within the story’s context. Of course, I fully support Asian representation in the media. Being Asian, I feel proud when I see a fellow Asian person on TV or other media platforms. However, there are better ways to execute Asian representation. For instance, the book, Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan, is the story of three wealthy Chinese families who begin to scheme and gossip when the heir to a massive fortune in Asia brings his American-born Chinese girlfriend home. Asian culture and being Asian are vital parts of the plot. Kwan explains that the novel aims to “introduce a contemporary Asia to a North American audience.” Without discussing their cultural practices & expectations, the book doesn’t make sense. 

In comparison, the plot of City of Orange has nothing to do with race or ethnic culture, yet it isn’t uncommon for Adam to have a memory of his Asian parents being distant or a prejudiced conflict between him and his wife flash up, such as one memory: “He didn’t yet realize that his mother and father’s paranoid warnings were round-about attempts to say We love you.” Most of these memories feel out of place and don’t flow with the rest of the story, which makes the reading feel rigid and unnatural. It’s as if race is meant to be a prominent theme throughout the novel but is forgotten about several times. Mentioning the character’s race once or twice isn’t a huge deal. It helps readers develop a more detailed picture of the characters. But unless it’s actually relevant to the story, I don’t think it should be delved into further just for the sake of including it.

Lastly, the ending is very anticlimactic. The entirety of the plot builds mystery and wonder about what kind of apocalypse happens, how Adam ends up where he is, who knocks him out, and so forth. But by the time I got to the end of the book, I thought, “That was it?” The entire time readers are made to believe something horrible destroys humanity and that only a handful of people are left. However, it’s revealed that society is still fully functioning. Before the book starts, Adam gets drunk and drives out to the model home neighborhood he is supposed to move into, which is abandoned since the company experienced financial difficulties. There is a fire across the river by the model homes, which burns mostly everything, creating the appearance of an apocalyptic scene. While drunk, Adam jumps off some sort of elevated highway, where he lies until he wakes up (nobody beats him up, as he thinks at the beginning of the book). It is rather disappointing to discover that the answers are what they are when the rest of the book implies a different, more exciting picture. It made me feel that there had to be more to it, or maybe I missed something. I hadn’t.

In general, I wouldn’t recommend the book City of Orange story due to the slow pacing and the anticlimactic ending. If you are looking for a sci-fi, post-apocalypse book, I would skip past City of Orange. But if you’re interested in stories about grief, loss, and growth, this might be a good read. Yoon delved deeply into protagonist Adam’s overwhelming grief and struggle to handle the loss of his wife and child. His arc as a character serves as a good reminder to those struggling with loss that it can get easier to cope. 

City of Orange is available from Blue Cypress Books, Bookshop, Eastwind Books, Green Apple Books, Skylight Books, and Waucoma Bookstore.


A headshot of Sabrina Lo with a blank background

Sabrina Lo is a sophomore at Chapman University and is majoring in broadcast journalism. With a strong interest in the arts, video production, and Asian American history, she hopes to combine all these things to make a career out of what she loves.