Lovemaking, paratrooping
The Riveter
by Jack Wang
Toronto: House of Anansi, 2025
$24.99 / 9781487007614
Reviewed by Jessica Poon
*
The Riveter, the debut novel of Jack Wang (We Two Alone), is a sprawling, ambitious love story set during World War II. It’s 1942 in Vancouver and Josiah Chang is a twentysomething orphan who has never known his mother and continues to mourn his father. Though he is sometimes met with blatant racism, he is hired easily enough as a well-remunerated riveter, a job he naturally excels at.
Shortly after, a brindle greyhound adopts Josiah; he feeds her bacon and later decides to call her Queenie. I’m unduly biased, but although Queenie made many appearances in the novel—all of them charmed—I couldn’t help but wish she had an even larger role than she did. Josiah’s enduring care for Queenie is arguably his most winsome quality.
But what really changes Josiah’s life is when he meets Poppy Miller, a jitney-driving, sultry-voiced, fun-loving, atheistic woman. Josiah feels she sees his true self and vice versa. It’s not long before Josiah proposes. Unfortunately, if Poppy marries Josiah, she must forfeit her Canadian citizenship—because he is Chinese, verboten from citizenship. Never mind that Josiah’s family has actually lived in Canada longer than Poppy. Given that cohabitation would have been rare in the 1940s, it is never broached as an option here. After a surprisingly polite but mostly disillusioning chat with Poppy’s father, Josiah leaves for eastern Canada, where Chinese men are newly permitted to fight in the war. Josiah and Poppy’s relationship becomes predominantly epistolary, with rare interludes of reunion sex and Poppy’s admission that she does not want to wait for him.
When basic training is done, Josiah is instantly drawn to the idea of an elite corps, which is consistent with the pride he takes in being a skilled riveter. Josiah thinks: “So far, he hadn’t been much impressed by the quality of the men around him and was eager to be among better, for the more such men there were, the more likely he was to live.” Although he expresses interest in carrying a machine gun—“the guns he liked best. Reminded him most of being a riveter”—he decides to try out as a paratrooper, “to prove he had done the right thing by joining. That it wasn’t just an impulse but a special calling.”
Wang provides ample details to convincingly evoke Josiah’s experience. Josiah’s enlistment takes him to myriad places and battlefields, ranging from Fort Benning, New York, Philadelphia, Scotland, London, France, and Belgium, among others. Josiah encounters racially inspired hostilities, which is unfortunately par for the course, but also befriends a man named Bill. When Bill evinces “the air of frailty,” Bill is not exempt from Josiah’s mercifully unvoiced cruel judgment. Being able to observe how Josiah behaves in the context of a friendship provides further insight into Josiah’s character and his adherence to traditional masculinity.
In Fort Benning, Josiah reflects on the Chinese word for America: “The Beautiful Country, as the Chinese called America, only this time someone had to make good.” I would have liked if Josiah had mentioned that the Chinese word for China is, much less flatteringly, Middle Country.
After enlisting, Josiah and Poppy’s relationship becomes predominantly epistolary, with rare interludes of reunion sex and Poppy’s admission that she does not want to wait for him.
It is seemingly impossible to mention Poppy without making mention of her considerable beauty. For instance: “Anyone could see she was beautiful. Milky skin, high arched brows, and eyes so blue they seemed to smoke.” Given that blue eyes are often tiresomely described as piercing or otherwise inevitably compared to bodies of water, Wang’s description is commendably different. That being said, I’m not sure blue eyes that appear to smoke makes any sense, even if it is metaphorical.
The languorous descriptions of Poppy’s beauty proliferate: “Her hair was long and dark as peat and moved with a soft jog. When the room began to whoop, she smiled, gouging her cheeks with those dimples of hers.” The usual violence implied in “gouging” is meant to contrast with the wholesome, wholly unthreatening charm of dimples; I appreciate the uniqueness but found it to be more dissonant than anything.
The first time Josiah and Poppy have sex, a condom is alluded to as the “one thing she asked him to wear.” Later, in keeping with the euphemistic 1940s, condoms are referred to as “safes,” To Josiah’s credit, he never protests about wearing a condom. Men, take note! Meanwhile, in keeping with her audacity, Poppy takes pleasure in making pharmacists blush, having no compunction whatsoever when it comes to purchasing prophylactics. Josiah and Poppy are presented as being modern for their time when it comes to sexual mores. In another scene, Poppy is described in the vaguest of ways: “She was willing to do anything. Her willingness was astonishing.” (My understanding of this vagueness? Anal sex.) Given that so much of their relationship is based on mutually intoxicating sexual attraction—a very nice thing indeed—the lust is chastely rendered.
The beauty of this couple is not asymmetrical, for Josiah, too, is also beautiful. Poppy first notices Josiah when he is playing tug of war, with “biceps stretched like zeppelins.” Poppy likes to think of herself as “open and unafraid” and being in a relationship with a Chinese man certainly helps to corroborate this self-image of herself as an adventurous rebel. Early on, when she suggests they go to Chinatown, Josiah declines the suggestion more vociferously than strictly necessary. He resents racial stereotypes; he cannot speak Chinese. Josiah’s inability to speak Chinese is fraught, which is auspiciously interesting; however, this does not get elaborated on much. For her part, Poppy does not blithely claim to be colour-blind, but candidly says, “I can’t say I never notice. That you’re Chinese. That you’re different. That wouldn’t be true. But I like that you’re Chinese. I like that you’re different.” Josiah does not reciprocate by saying he appreciates that Poppy is a desirable white woman, even if it is evidently true.
For the most part, Josiah and Poppy commendably refrain from quizzing each other on their sexual and romantic pasts, but jealousy and the temptation of infidelity become palpable when their relationship spans an ocean. With relative predictability, the very things that attract you to someone eventually become, at least occasionally, potential detractors of the relationship. For instance, if you love someone for being enjoyably ribald and sex-positive, you may later find yourself subject to sexually possessive feelings. The evolution of Josiah’s increasing proprietary feelings is rendered convincingly, though not always in ways that depict him in a flattering light; here, former Vancouver resident Wang succeeds in adding complexity to Josiah’s conflicted self.
If you’re in the mood for a love story and have a soft spot for romances set during wartime, or even if you just like affectionate greyhounds, then, The Riveter is an apt choice.
*
Originally from East Vancouver, Jessica Poon is a writer, former line cook, and pianist of dubious merit who recently returned to BC after completing a MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Guelph. [Editor’s note: Jessica Poon interviewed Sheung-King, and in the past year reviewed books by Bal Khabra, Christopher Cheung, Anne Hawk, Pat Dobie, Giana Darling, Umar Turaki, Katrina Kwan, Jane Boon, Terese Svoboda, Maia Caron, Wendy H. Wong, Andromeda Romano-Lax, Sarah Leipciger, Katrina Kwan, Shelley Wood, and Richard Kelly Kemick for BCR]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors, 2023-26: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie
Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.
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