China rich girlfriend: How the rich and pretentious live

I willbe the first to admit it: Fashion has never been my forte. Honestly, English doesn’t even apply to fashion. Those French brands are evil tongue twisters, and I swear to God they were designed to make sure mere mortals like me wouldn’t even attempt to pronounce them. Italian brands? Let’s not even go there.

All this is mainly because I have a habit of sounding words out in my head, imagining how the sentences flow together, and how each syllable plays a big part in emoting.

So imagine the torment I had to go through while reading this book that has words like … how in nine hells do you even pronounce “prêt-à-couture”? And what is Proenza Schouler? Dries Van Noten? Comme des Garcons? Or should I ask who are these mythical beings? I feel a migraine coming on.

If you read Kevin Kwan’s first book,Crazy Rich Asians(2013), you would be familiar with several characters in this second one. But if you didn’t, not to worry, you’ll figure it all out soon enough, just like I did. So let’s take this from a fresh perspective, starting anew for readers just dipping a toe into Kwan’s writing.

So in the first book, Rachel Chu, an American-Chinese girl from a middle-class family, prances off to marry Nicholas Young of the Singapore Youngs – Singapore royalty, with wealth that (probably) matches the Cullens’ inTwilight. (No, I didn’t readTwilight, but obviously, Facebook is the new Wikipedia when it comes to sparkly vampires.)

Of course the matriarch, grandmother Su Yi, ain’t too pleased about this pauper marrying into such a prestigious family, and of course she wields her “you’re disinherited” wand above Nick’s head. To Nick’s credit, he doesn’t give a fig about the money and gallantly rides off into the sunset with Rachel.

I’m going to tell you, point blank, without prevarication, that I am thoroughly disappointed by and utterly dispassionate about Rachel and Nicholas.

Rather than focusing on them as the protagonists, the fulcrum of the story should have been laid on two supporting characters, Singapore It Girl Astrid and billionaire Charlie Wu.

A love story that was meant to be yet never took place? Check. Two souls who thought they have moved on yet they never did? Check. Each character having a detestable spouse? Check. Through the book, I was rooting for these supporting characters more than I was for the main love birds.

That, my friends, is never a good sign.

Yes, I’m impressed that the author knows of what he writes, how he gives the teeny-weeny details of what the designer dress looks like, how much the shiny baubles are worth, the exact price of a private jet, the fanciful meals you can order at the renowned Din Tai Fung restaurant. But it came to a point when I felt bogged down by all these details. The limelight just shies away from the storyline, and impinges on the reader’s periphery vision rather than being front and centre.

Given it’s only Kwan’s second attempt after the highly successfulCrazy Rich Asians, the art of balancing details and storyline hasn’t been polished enough, perhaps.

It is terrifyingly obscene how the rich spend their dough. The way Kwan describes it makes their world seem alien to me. One stinking rich old lady purchases Hermès bags in bulk and has an entire bedroom dedicated to her “stock”, as they are “small gifts” she gives away to her “well-meaning” friends. Holy smoke, my well-meaning friends get nothing but a “thank you” from me, and if they’re lucky, I buy them a glass ofteh tarik.

This bile in my throat seems to have doubled since knowing how the rich and fabulous live, considering how there are so many charities out there dedicated to ending poverty and hunger around the world.

And I don’t even know where to start on how pretentious these characters are. This is a work of fiction, yet somehow I don’t think Kwan is that far off from the truth. Spending 180 million on a painting? A Ming dynasty vase? Designer wear? Get real, people. We have issues with how the world functions, and these influential people plod along thinking its all rainbows and butterflies.

But I must say, in all seriousness, Kwan’s got humour. He’s snarky, sarcastic, and every now and then throws in some Hokkien swear words that would have my great-grandparents rolling over in their graves.

I confess, the one time I said a certain Hokkien slang word out loud, my brother nearly snapped the car’s brake pedal in two. Hey, what can I say? I grew up in a decent household, where swear words were practically non-existent. Until I met Kevin Kwan. Bad influence, but he’s highly, highly recommended for educational purposes.