By: Heidi Kwok, Staff Writer
Pick a Colour is a fictionalized account of the Southeast Asian immigrant experience, written by Souvankham Thammavongsa, a Laotian Canadian author and poet who was born in a refugee camp in Thailand and raised in Toronto. The novel explores themes of power, class, and the invisibilization of migrant labour performed by gendered and racialized diasporas. Taking place over a single summer day, Thammavongsa introduces the reader to “Susan’s,” an unassuming nail salon toiled by workers, all of whom sport the same shoulder-length black hair, black clothing, and name tags embellished with the name “Susan.” Customers who visit Susan’s are told to “pick a colour,” and can expect to be in and out in under twenty minutes. Fussy walk-ins are placated with a two-for-one special — a manicure and pedicure — all for the price of just $10!
Despite kneeling from below to clean, shape, and polish, Thammavongsa expresses that real power lies not with the customer but with the worker
The one who wields the sharp instruments and keeps the secrets that will inevitably slip out of the client’s lips under the intimate setting. The author therefore subverts underlying assumptions about nail salon workers (or those employed in the service industry) as people to be pitied or underestimated.
Told from a first-person perspective, we are quickly submerged in the lonely but content world of our protagonist, a former boxer who reluctantly trades her corner of the ring for a nail salon. Her name is Ning (but customers know her as Susan because according to her, it’s easier to pronounce). Ning is a closed-off, emotionally-guarded, and no-nonsense girlboss. Blunt and direct, she reads her clients with the same ease and intensity as she did with her boxing opponents, anticipating their every punch and swing. She deduces a person’s entire life story from the instant they inhabit her chair. Subtle shifts in weight or movement during a match; lines in the face, every crease, and wrinkle that needs the attention of a facial give away a person more than words can ever reveal. Yet, beneath Ning’s fortified exterior lies a compassionate soul and (cynical but nonetheless) a witty sense of humour.
We witness a very human portrayal of how the protagonist grapples with the trauma and unrealistic expectations exacted by shaky relationships with her former partner, employer, boxing coach, coworkers, customers, and mother. While mostly character-driven, this book culminates in a story that is underpinned by a heart-arching exploration of the impacts of loneliness, absence, racism, and gender-based social norms on women. With this work, Thammavongsa further commentates on the perception of language capability as an indicator of class, belonging, and worth. Ning and her coworkers are frequently told by customers that their “English is so good.” This is a backhanded compliment that immigrants are all too familiar with. It suggests that people of colour aren’t capable of speaking the language fluently based solely on their skin colour, when in truth, the “Susans” have spoken English for years but choose to converse amongst themselves in their own language as a way of reasserting their own autonomy. As these Susans exchanged quick-fired gossip under the guise of workplace pleasantries in their mother tongues, the readers are left to re-evaluate run-of-the-mill nail salons as anything but unremarkable service providers, and see them as places of migrant autonomy and collectivism.
