In many works of literature, depictions of immigration are whitewashed and softened at the edges. The indignities faced by immigrants of color are kept hidden, while the path to assimilation is shown to be smooth, rewarding. Jenny Zhang and Kamila Shamsie both illustrate the experiences of people of color in predominantly white cultures and grapple with how marginalized members of society can exercise power and control while facing the erasure of their narratives and the silencing of their voices. Shamsie’s novel Home Fire and Zhang’s short story “We Love You Crispina” from the collection Sour Heart give voices to the experiences of a Pakistani British family and a Chinese American family, respectively. Through acts of rebellion, both small and large-scale, the characters in these literary works can explore different avenues of power and personal agency.

The idea of a “good immigrant” appears synonymous with amenable and assimilated. However, in the Slate article “Jenny Zhang’s Sour Heart Sets the ‘Model Minority Myth on Fire,” Katy Waldman describes Zhang’s characters as “invigoratingly, vulgarly contemptuous” of their new home. Waldman emphasizes that immigrant literature often demands that its characters express gratitude upon “entering the rags-to-riches pipeline.” Zhang subverts this norm, presenting New York City and its immigrants steeped in grit and grime. In “We Love You Crispina,” Zhang offers a look at a family —  tough, resilient, hardworking — whose aspirations cannot be achieved, who are left scavenging for survival, cast to the lower throngs of society. There is no rose-tinted optimism in Zhang’s writing. There is no set trajectory for Christina’s family to take. 

Despite the extreme poverty Christina’s family faces, their very existence and determination serve as an act of defiance toward a society that seeks to shut them out. “Why else didn’t we pack up and drive down there to live the good life … unless we were trying to stand our ground, trying to prove that we belonged here?” Christina questions (Zhang, 31). A strong act of rebellion in the story comes in the form of Christina’s crude language. As Waldman states, “Asian American women … are rarely afforded the luxury of coarseness.” Near the story’s end, Christina and her parents throw rubble at the buildings where “the hoods” live; Christina’s mother yells, “‘Go eat a couple of dicks for breakfast, you assmunchers,’” and Christina says, “‘And wash it down with some of your liquefied shit, you specks of crap’” (Zhang, 31). This diction serves as a reflection of Zhang’s aim to push back the stereotype of Asian immigrants as passive and easily pacified. Even Christina and her mother’s aversion to sweet foods can be interpreted as a symbol of their refusal to simply accept their roles as acquiescent immigrants. “‘Most people like sweet grapes and sweet peaches and sweet apples and sweet berries,’” Christina’s mother says, “‘We’re two of a kind … [We] only like sour fruits.’” (Zhang, 28-29). This preference for sour over sweet is, in and of itself, an act of rebellion against the norm in American diets that favor sweetness. It is a small yet significant act of nonconformity. 

A retelling of Sophocles’s Antigone, Kamila Shamsie’s novel Home Fire engages with similar themes. As Muslims living in Britain, Aneeka and her family are accustomed to facing Islamophobia. Yet Aneeka’s remark to Isma in regards to her airport interrogation — “You don’t have to be so compliant about everything” —  illustrates how despite the struggles in place for her as a woman of color, she refuses to exhibit meek obedience (Shamsie, 6). Aneeka’s character symbolizes a coalescence of femininity, strength, and rebellion. She strives to act in a manner that remains true to herself and her beliefs—she does not wish to bow down to those who shame her, who attempt to instill behavior that fits neatly into Eurocentric culture. There is a parallel between Shamsie’s portrayal of Aneeka and Zhang’s portrayal of her young female protagonists, such as Christina. The New York Times confers the label “feminist bildungsroman” upon Zhang’s narrative, and a similar description applies to Aneeka. Like Zhang, Shamsie does not shy away from illustrating courageous, stubborn female characters. The characters in both of these works experience immense raw pain and emotional growth. 

The juxtaposition between Aneeka’s sexuality and religious devotion offers insight into the acts of rebellion that define her. While religion can be used as an oppressive tactic against Muslim women to humiliate them and gain dominance, Aneeka stands up to the societal pressure to simply assimilate. Her decision to wear a hijab, pray, and express religious fidelity point to her strategic reclamation of power. She also displays personal agency as she enjoys a relationship of premarital sex with Eamonn. 

When openings for conversation had arisen she preferred to pillow her head in her arms and look up at the ceiling or doze with her back to him, the soles of her feet pressed against his legs, combining rejection and intimacy. He watched as she continued to undress until there was nothing left but the white scarf covering her head, one end of the soft fabric falling just below her breast, the other thrown over her shoulder. (Shamsie, 73)

Aneeka takes control over her sexuality, turning it into a weapon against both patriarchal forces and the influence of Karamat Lone, the home secretary who advocates for British Muslims to Westernize their ways of life. This passage brings to life her body language early on in her relationship with Eamonn, and it is clear that she is using her body initially as a physical barrier against intimacy. In the novel, Eamonn’s character encompasses the quintessence of complacency and passivity in all realms of life, from political to social to personal. Aneeka is the one who dictates the nature of their relationship, deciding when and how to meet with him in his home — combining “rejection and intimacy.”  The image provided by the description of her undressing symbolizes the importance that religious and sexual freedom represents to Aneeka. Her faith and her sexual desires are not portrayed to be mutually exclusive, despite the narrative that Eurocentric perspectives may perpetuate. 

The characters in both of these texts display a special sort of resilience as they reconcile their identities and nurture their personal liberation despite the expectations of society. Rather than listen to the dominant voices in society, these women of color allow their own desires and beliefs to take control. This can be viewed as an important reclamation of female selfhood.