Yellowface Review: A Bold Look at Ambition

Title: Yellowface
Author: R.F. Kuang
Published: 2023 (May 16)
Publisher: William Morrow (HarperCollins)
Pages: 336
Format: Hardcover / Paperback / eBook / Audiobook
Genres: Satire, Literary Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Dark Humor, Thriller

About Author

When I first read Yellowface, I felt the sharp edge of ambition reflected in the life of Rebecca F. Kuang, whose own journey adds depth to the story’s themes. She was born on May 29, 1996, an American writer shaped by both fantasy and real-world history. Having been born in China and schooled in Texas, she later studied Sinology at Cambridge and Oxford University, eventually becoming a Marshall Scholar. By 2025, she was completing her PhD at Yale University. Knowing this background made me read the novel with a kind of personal curiosity; I could sense how her education at Georgetown University for her BA, Magdalene College, Cambridge for her MPhil, and University College, Oxford for her MSc shaped her understanding of identity and cultural tension. Even her years active, 2018–present, show how quickly she rose, supported by notable awards like the Marshall Scholarship 2018, Compton Crook Award 2019, Crawford Award 2019, and the Astounding Award for Best New Writer 2020. I remember browsing rfkuang.com, her website, long before I knew her work would hit the first spot on the New York Times Best Seller list with her novel Babel, or The Necessity of Violence—a moment that made me realize I was watching a truly prolific phenomenon in modern literature.

Her earlier success with The Poppy War, honored by Blackwell’s Book of the Year in Fiction 2022, and recognized by the Nebula Award for Best Novel, showed how deeply she draws from history. Being a finalist for awards like Nebula, Locus, World Fantasy, Kitschies, and British Fantasy awards reflects her layered storytelling. She was born in Guangzhou, later immigrated to the United States with her family at four years old. Her father came from Leiyang, Hunan province, and her mother from Hainan province; even her maternal grandfather fought under Chiang Kai-shek, while her father’s family lived through the Japanese occupation of Hunan during World War II. When I learned this, the emotional tension in Yellowface hit me harder—her background isn’t just academic; it’s lived, inherited, and layered with history. As a reader, my own experience with diaspora stories helped me appreciate how these influences shape her voice in English, giving her occupation as an author, and her themes of identity, ambition, and erasure, a kind of authenticity that few writers achieve. Even knowing she shares her life with her spouse, Bennett Eckert-Kuang, adds a quiet human detail behind the powerhouse public figure.

Book summary

Yellowface follows June Hayward, a struggling white author who envies the brilliant success of her friend and literary star Athena Liu. When Athena dies suddenly, June impulsively steals her unpublished manuscript—a powerful novel about Chinese laborers during World War I—and publishes it as her own under a more “ethnically ambiguous” pen name. As the book becomes a hit, June’s lies spiral out of control, and the shadow of Athena—both real and imagined—threatens to expose everything. Blending satire, suspense, and sharp commentary on racism and cultural appropriation in publishing, the story reveals how far someone might go for fame and how ambition can twist into something dangerous when left unchecked.

Plot

Welcome, friend! Today, I bring a review of the popular novel Yellowface by R.F. Kuang, a story that boldly exposes the dark side of publishing and the desperate need to earn a name in a world obsessed with visibility. It’s a book that feels painfully real for anyone who has tried to survive in the volatile, competitive world of writing. As someone who spends hours in reading, reviewing, and exploring stories, I found this book both uncomfortable and mindblowing, pulling me into its soul-eating exploration of ambition, envy, and identity.

The plot revolves around June Hayward and Athena Liu, two authors once described as twin rising stars from Yale. But where Athena’s career skyrockets into literary fame in her late twenties, June’s barely moves. Her first book never gets a paperback release, and she bitterly believes that “nobody wants stories about basic white girls.” When she witnesses Athena’s death in a freak accident, everything inside her cracks. Acting on an impulse, she steals Athena’s just-finished manuscript an experimental novel about the unsung contributions of Chinese laborers during World War I.

Driven by a mix of jealousy, resentment, and desperation, June edits the book, sends it to her agent, and lets her publisher market it under her “new identity” Juniper Song, a name chosen for its ambiguously ethnic tone. With a carefully staged author photo, readers begin to question her heritage, but no one can quite prove anything. The novel becomes a New York Times bestseller, turning June into the famous author she always wanted to be. Yet, as evidence emerges, reviewers begin to catch inconsistencies, and the shadow of her theft begins to consume her.

Reading Yellowface felt too real, especially from my cozy reading spaces, with a soft lamp, warm blanket, and a few bookmarks tucked between the pages. The aesthetic comfort of reading was in sharp contrast to the discomfort in my chest as I turned each page. Kuang’s writing doesn’t allow distance it dives deeper, trapping you inside June’s mind, where insecurity, fear, and self-justification blend until you’re unsure if you’re a reader or a witness.

The industry side of the book is what truly struck me. Yellowface doesn’t just tell a story it exposes the process, the assistant editors, the sensitivity readers, and the endless reviews that go into every published piece of content. It shows how diligence, sensitivity, and resistance are needed to avoid offensive or stereotypical writing, and how easily mistakes can ruin careers. The publishing world looks glamorous, but Kuang reminds us it’s also cutthroat, filled with unforeseen problems, bad reps, and moral gray zones.

Through June’s eyes, we see the publishing industry as both temptation and trap. She wants success, but her choices raise painful questions who has the right to tell stories of another culture? Can ambition justify appropriation? Kuang never gives easy answers. Instead, she forces readers to identify with June’s struggle, to feel both her shame and her defiance.

As a long-time reviewer, I couldn’t help but connect to the world she describes the authors, publishers, and publicists all engaged in the same system. The reality of getting books, writing reviews, and maintaining credibility takes more than passion; it demands diligence and integrity. Before becoming a reviewer, I never really gave much thought to how much effort, money, and years of practice go into creating a single book. But reading this novel made me understand what it actually takes to get published and how resistance can form against those who rise too fast or take the easy way.

What makes Kuang’s story unforgettable is how she builds the duality of June and Athena. They’re opposites and reflections at the same time. Athena is everything June wants to be brilliant, famous, and admired. Yet Athena’s perfection also feeds June’s insecurities. June’s envy turns her into something darker, but what’s haunting is how human that transformation feels. You start to see pieces of yourself in her rationalizations, her lies, and her need to be seen.

I’ve seen reviewers call June a villain, but I think Kuang wanted readers to see something else the culture that creates people like her. The industry that rewards ambition, punishes authenticity, and turns identity into marketing. It’s a world where even those trying to be allies donating money to charities, or supporting writing communities can become part of a system that still others and exploits.

Every time I turned the page, I thought of how easily someone could be wrongly given a bad rep just for a mistake or a misunderstood post. Kuang’s insight into social media, cyberbullying, and public shaming hits with chilling accuracy. The content warnings are heavy death, racism, verbal abuse, gaslighting, and suicidal thoughts but they serve a purpose. They reveal how success in today’s writing culture can destroy a person from the inside out.

Yellowface isn’t just about June or Athena; it’s about the entire ecosystem that surrounds books the agents, the reviewers, the fans, the friends and family who buy from a bookstore or follow an author online. It’s about how fame becomes both a dream and a curse, and how easily the publishing machine can consume anyone who dares to play along.

When I finished reading, I sat for a long time, staring at the cover, thinking of how ambiguous and haunting it looked like June’s identity itself. I realized that the magic of this book isn’t just in its plot, but in how it forces reflection. It made me think about writing, culture, and ambition in ways I hadn’t before. It reminded me that stories, like people, carry layers, contradictions, and costs. And as much as we want success, the question that Yellowface asks is simple but devastating: what are we willing to give to get it?

Overall Conclusion

Overall, Yellowface by R.F. Kuang is a daring and deeply unsettling reflection on the price of ambition in the writing world. It’s not just a story about a woman’s moral collapse it’s a mirror to how publishing, culture, and identity collide in today’s world. The book’s immersive voice, combined with its sensitivity toward diversity, appropriation, and racism, makes it one of the most thought-provoking novels in recent memory. Whether you’re a reader, a reviewer, or an aspiring author, this novel forces you to question your own place within the system how much of your success depends on talent, and how much on the stories others have been denied the chance to tell.

In the end, Kuang’s writing doesn’t offer comfort; it offers clarity. It exposes the uncomfortable truths we often avoid about ambition, envy, and authenticity. The characters, especially June, may frustrate or even disgust readers, but they’re unforgettable because they feel real. Yellowface ultimately leaves you with a sense of awe and unease a reminder that the publishing industry, like life itself, is full of blurred lines, resistance, and choices that define who we truly are when no one is watching.

What is R.F. Kuang’s Yellowface about?

The novel follows June Hayward, a bitter white author who steals the finished manuscript of her successful friend, Athena Liu, after witnessing her death. June publishes the stolen work under a new, ethnically ambiguous name, leading to a satirical and tense exploration of literary theft and consequence.

What are the main themes explored in the novel Yellowface?

Yellowface deeply explores themes of cultural appropriation, particularly who has the right to tell stories of marginalized cultures. It also critiques white privilege in publishing, the toxic nature of social media “cancel culture,” and the destructive limits of ambition and envy.

Is Yellowface a simple story about a villain?

The review suggests Kuang aims for more than a simple villain narrative. It argues that June’s moral collapse is a reflection of the toxic publishing ecosystem that rewards ambition and punishes authenticity, forcing readers to question their own complicity in the system.