I’m writing this at a local café of mine. I’m staring at the cover for Yellowface by R.F. Kuang, which I’ve just finished. I’m thinking about the cover of the novel, which jumps out at me, even though it is, on its face, quite simple.
A set of distinctively Asian eyes, set against a bright yellow background that pops. The eyes look furtive. As if they belong to a kid in their room, doing something they aren’t supposed to, and they’ve just heard their parents, who aren’t supposed to be home at this time, twist the door knob. The title of the novel sits below the eyes in big, bold-faced type. One short blurb at the top: “Razor sharp,” attributed to Time.
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