We Were Dreamers: a review
Simu Liu. 刘思慕。My mom and dad like to watch Kim’s Convenience, and sometimes after dinner we’d just put the TV on, take a seat somewhere on the couch, on the ground, smile at Oppa and Umma, and marvel at how much overlap there is in our cultural values and struggles that are underrepresented. Mom speaks of Simu with a little bit of pride, and I’ve always felt a sense of camaraderie with this guy, even though I knew nothing about him other than that he went to UTS and Western Ivey, and was born in Harbin. All places that I know so much about, but nonetheless have not been to. We both live in the same universe if not the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Reading his memoir, I think he’s a really cool person. He’s a very big people-person, and his extraverted energy is SUPERR contagious on paper, the way he tries to see everyone’s points of view, land funny self-derogatory comments, and raise other people around him up. He says “this book” and “you” so many times that reading it feels like a conversation with me (I read a hard copy from VPL but for a maximal viewing experience, I would recommend the audiobook over a physical copy). Simu is a very pleasant conversationalist, and I don’t need to hold a conversation with him to know that. And even if he doesn’t provide the wittiest comments with the most acumen, it’s just the energy that this guy carries to a room, his confidence, and how he includes everyone, that makes him awesome.
But I think that this book is as authentic as it is wordy, giving me a bunch of pillow-to-pillow descriptions of everything he does month to month, without a big emphasis or true central narrative that pushes the pages forwards. And if he wrote this memoir three decades later, it would be a GREAT read. But for now, as much as a 20-year-old can criticize a 33-year-old for immaturity, I think that his memoir lacks depth. It’s like reading a sundry grocery list. A very entertaining one, that brings value, some inspiration, and representation, but still, it’s not a family-secret recipe I’m reading. More of a Costco grocery receipt. Simu writes a lot about random things. He definitely did not hire a ghostwriter to write for him, because his personality shines through SO much. But let’s frame it differently. Simu wrote and published this book, not to ace a good memoir — I think, that the goal of his writing is to give himself a sense of personal fulfillment, a spotlight & some recognition, and to give representation to other kids struggling like him so that they feel “seen”. There is immediacy in this book, because being “seen” right now, in our present social climate, has more real impact right now than 30 years down the line.
Parts I really liked: I really like how he sat down to interview his parents, to write about their contexts in go to college, leaving China, and building a life in Canada. He could have omitted this part of his memoir (since he wasn’t even born into the scene yet) but I cherish the fact that he included it. Many of our parents have similar stories and hardships, and too often, they’re not the people to complain about these challenges, or share them with the rest of the world.
This ad starring Simu Liu also represents his message so freakin well.
And even being critical of his execution of this memoir, I still admire this guy, and it’s just awesome to see his growth, from a Deloitte accountant stuck at a desk hating his job, to an aspiring actor checking Craigslist for any odd acting job that would take him, and all of the colourful phases of awkward scenes of growth in between, to get to his big break as the superhero he ALWAYS dreamed of. As flashy of a guy he is (and you have to have a craving for the approval of others to succeed in the film industry, which I didn’t actually realize, and I also didn’t realize that it’s not necessarily a bad thing), he has come a long way and fought for himself the whole way (and is very self-aware !!)
He wanted to be hot so badly in middle and high school (his words, not mine), but unfortunately he thought his looks were meh, his face being a 6 on a good day, his body a 7. Thought that was funny.
That night, alone in my hotel room, I reflected on my extremely privileged thirty years of existence. As a child who immigrated to Canada, I’d enjoyed a very high quality of life thanks to the efforts of my parents. Despite our tempestuous relationship during my adolescence, I was still raised with the fundamental belief that what I did mattered. I was fortunate enough to drastically alter the course of my life not once but twice; first in becoming an actor, and then by working with my parents to repair our relationship. Otherwise, I’d still be a miserable accountant harboring a deep resentment for the people who raised him. (p. 277)
