I have recently spent a most diverting evening with Meichi Ng’s Barely Functional Adult, a collection of chronicles that I found to be as profoundly moving as they were unexpectedly mirthful.
It is a singular work that manages to capture the peculiar tribulations of modern existence with a rare and touching honesty. The protagonist—a curious, swaddled figure—serves as a most relatable vessel for the anxieties and “incriminating” stories that so many of us carry in secret. I found myself laughing aloud at the sheer absurdity of our common struggles, only to be moved to a state of quiet melancholy in the very next breath. There is a “heartbreaking introspection” here that feels entirely genuine; it is a rare gift to find a book that allows one to weep with pleasure at one’s own fallibility.
Whether she is discussing the phantoms of past acquaintances or the daunting shadow of “imposter syndrome,” Miss Ng speaks with a voice that is both hilariously sharp and tenderly sad. It is a comforting thought to realize, through her sketches and prose, that one is anything but alone in this bewildering world.
I found it a truly delightful and “painfully relatable” journey. I award it five stars of the highest magnitude—a triumph of humor and heart for every soul still finding its way.