★ 05/03/2021
Pham reinvents the memoir in a stirring debut that explores the power of language, art, and love. As an Asian American woman who felt alienated early on in her life, she poured herself into studying art and poetry to reconcile her need for closeness. In 11 essays, she interrogates desire in all its forms, beginning with an evocative piece about finding solace in the act of running. She aspires to the “affable stride” of fellow runner and novelist Haruki Murakami, but instead she runs “as if trying to lose my mind.” Throughout, Pham examines the emotionality of other artists’ and writers’ work and lives—from Barthes to Georgia O’Keeffe to Louise Bourgeois—as a way to better understand her own. In “Blue,” she reflects on escaping mental burnout in New Mexico, and remembers the painter Agnes Martin’s flight from New York, after a schizophrenic episode: “Agnes’s voices and visions didn’t inform her art-making process, but... dictated her actions—where to be, what to eat, what to own.” Ever-present, too, is the haunting of past lovers and her own sexuality, captured in prose that’s both beautiful and gutting. “If I could own it... become a woman with agency. It wouldn’t matter if I still hurt. At least I’d be able to describe it.” This is a masterpiece. Agent: Monika Woods, Triangle House Literary. (May)
A Time Best Book of the Year
An NPR Best Book of the Year
Electric Literature, A Best Book of the Year
A BuzzFeed Most Anticipated Book of the Year
A Literary Hub Most Anticipated Book of the Year
One of The Millions' Most Anticipated Books of the Year
A Paperback Paris Most Anticipated Book
"Larissa Pham combines the thrilling and agonized travails of her young narrator with the lucid and steady eye of a born critic. The combination is a compelling portrait of one artist's development through the mirrors of her (and many of my) favorite artists. Pop Song is a bold and promising debut." —Melissa Febos
"Pham’s debut book is a brave, shrewd work of artistic and cultural criticism, exploring the ways we filter raw love and heartbreak through our encounters with music, art and other experiences, for better and for worse." —The New York Times Book Review
"Throughout Pop Song, Pham blends her most intimate thoughts with stirring cultural criticism, with essays that make mention of Frank Ocean’s music, Agnes Martin’s paintings and more. Simultaneously, Pham wrestles with her own heartbreak and trauma as she finds solace in the art that surrounds her." —Annabel Gutterman, Time
"Pop Song is a book many will cherish for not only its articulation of pain but also its commitment to everything that comes after trauma, which is grinding, painstaking growth. . . . [Pham's] eye is voracious." —Chalay Chalermkraivuth, The Nation
"Each of the essays in this debut collection reads like a mini-memoir in ekphrasis, in which the author reflects on her experiences of young love, trauma, and transcendence through discussions of art and music. Larissa Pham writes about Agnes Martin, Nan Goldin, and Frank Ocean with an intimacy that is at once tender and expansive." —Cornelia Channing, New York Magazine
"Artist and lit world phenom Larissa Pham’s debut essay collection is like a literary mixtape, which makes its title all the more apt. In her pieces about travel, sex, loss, and inner work, Pham builds a magpie-like nest out of cultural references . . . a volume that feels comfortingly worn-in and relatably restless." —Keely Weiss, Harper's Bazaar
"A masterclass in emotional vulnerability . . . Pham has an uncanny ability to detect intimacy, especially in art . . . Pop Song pivots between art and personal narrative with such dexterity that they begin to feel inseparable." —Bryn Lovitt, NYLON
"An enchanting memoir in essays, Pop Song swags and moves with you, like the bass line of a tune." —Jordan Snowden, The Seattle Times
"A stunning collection of essays that blends memoir with reflections on art and criticism . . . [Pham] is one of those writers whose words light a fire in your soul, making you restless with inspiration and the need to begin your own journey through the life-changing works of art and forgotten corners that have come to populate your life." —Allison McNearney, The Daily Beast
"Pop Song is a triumphant collection, one that signals the author’s commitment to recounting complicated experiences without fear or apology." —Evette Dionne, Bitch
"The essays in this tender book balance artistic, academic engagement with personal narrative . . . This book offers a warm and expansive portrait of a woman’s mind that feels at once singular and universal." —Annie Diamond, BuzzFeed
"A sensual, intimate book; reading it is an experience akin to one of those unexpected, hours-long conversations that take place in a dark corner at a party, the kind that can only happen with someone you barely knew, but will now know forever. It's a reminder of the pleasures of casual intimacy, and how getting to know other people is often the best way of learning about yourself." —Kristin Iversen, Refinery 29
"A tender heartache of a book, this memoir will make you feel seen in all the right ways." —K.W. Colyard, Bustle
"Wherever Pham looks, her gaze is ceaselessly empathetic, and it is this generosity that binds the reader to her quest for understanding . . . Even with all the pain of heartbreak, violence and loss, Pham manages to generate sincere hopefulness." —Ginger Greene, Observer
“[Pop Song] tweezes from pop-culture ephemera—transcendent pieces of art from James Turrell's light sculptures to Frank Ocean's album Blond—to draw connections to distance and intimacy in travel, love, and loss . . . A smart book.” —Thrillist
"We’re big fans of essays that combine cultural criticism with memoir, and Larissa Pham’s Pop Song especially sings when the writer turns her eye to art and pop culture. . . . Through her sensitive, curious telling, Pham lobbies for the way in which art can help people learn more about themselves." —The A.V. Club
"In a manner reminiscent of contemporaries Leslie Jamison and Jia Tolentino, Pham seamlessly blends the personal and the cultural, the confessional and the critical, the cerebral and the sentimental, to create an exciting and imaginative memoir. A vital playlist that hits all the right notes; readers will reach the end ready to hit repeat." —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
"Pham reinvents the memoir in a stirring debut that explores the power of language, art, and love . . . This is a masterpiece." —Publishers Weekly (starred review)
02/26/2021
Pham's memoir is about many things—art and relationships, travel and self-awareness. However, while it touches on a variety of compelling subjects, it does so in a jumbled way that sometimes makes for a chaotic read. The author segues back and forth between her life—including formative travel experiences, her social life, and her education—and a second-person narrative addressing an unnamed romantic partner. Pham writes with a great deal of passion, which is one of the work's strengths. However, the transitions can be jarring and often interrupt the flow of the book. Musings on art run throughout, but again without much structure. There are few narrative clues to guide readers and keep their attention. While individual sections of the book are interesting and memorable, the complete picture isn't as gratifying. VERDICT Though it doesn't always come together as a whole, Pham's work features a promising voice. Readers with a strong interest in the visual arts will likely get the most out of this book, especially where Pham writes about finding meaning in the work of artists like Agnes Martin and James Turrell; and Gen Z and younger millennial readers might find Pham's experiences and relationship dynamics to be particularly relatable.—Sarah Schroeder, Univ. of Washington Bothell
★ 2021-03-12
In this debut memoir, a writer and artist examines love and all of its complications through the lenses of art, literature, and her own life.
In her first full-length work of nonfiction, Pham, an inaugural Yi Dae Up fellowship recipient from the Jack Jones Literary Arts Retreat, thoughtfully collects a series of essays exploring themes of love, beauty, pain, trauma, art, and identity. Over the course of 11 pieces, Pham writes and rewrites her own story using her most honest memories alongside the lives and works of other artists and writers she admires. In "Blue,” she uses the writing of Rebecca Solnit, the artwork of Georgia O’Keeffe and Agnes Martin, and the beauty and allure of the American Southwest to narrate her professional burnout. In “Body of Work,” Pham interrogates the idea of pain—physical manifestations, potential for beauty, and increasing commodification—by analyzing Nan Goldin’s photography, the popularity of Tumblr, her tumultuous relationship with a high school boyfriend, and her subsequent sexual (mis)adventures. “I worry that in writing this down, I’m showing you the ways I made myself abject,” she confesses. “But it was useful before, and I’ve never liked the self-help books where the writer comes across as holier than thou, already healed and already recovered. I want to honor the girl I was, whose pain was real. It’s her I write for, too.” While each of the essays twists and turns from subject to subject, all of the material serves a purpose. Each curve in the collection leads readers to a fuller, more nuanced understanding of Pham’s unique perspective. In a manner reminiscent of contemporaries Leslie Jamison and Jia Tolentino, Pham seamlessly blends the personal and the cultural, the confessional and the critical, the cerebral and the sentimental, to create an exciting and imaginative memoir.
A vital playlist that hits all the right notes; readers will reach the end ready to hit repeat.
