Free, flow, and harmony represent the foundational principles of Confucianism and are core to modern society. Wu wei, a central concept of Confucianism philosophy, can be interpreted as passive acceptance, allowing reality to unfold in its original path. It may seem the most convenient to not do anything, avoiding action and interference with the flow of destiny “because it's just easier to keep it how we have it” and “you don't mess with a working template” (Yu 39). However, in “Interior Chinatown,” acclaimed author Charles Yu redefines wu wei, blending form and function into an intimate portrayal of the Asian-American experience. 

Yu’s innovative use of the screenplay format is the feature that sets this story apart. The blurred boundaries between reality and fiction make the roles of each character ambiguous, as it’s never truly clear whether a character is in a state of performance. This ambiguity reflects the experience of many Asian Americans who struggle with separate identities and the weight of societal expectations, often feeling as though they are constantly performing a role. Willis Wu, despite being the protagonist of “Interior Chinatown,” plays a minor role in the cop series “Black and White,” where his character as “Generic Asian Man” becomes intertwined with his own identity. Yu uses the show as a representation of the internalized racism ingrained within society, emphasizing the stereotypical portrayal of race in the media: “You speak English really well,” Green, the white detective on the show, tells Willis. “It’s almost like you don’t have an accent.”

However, Willis doesn't realize that his role as “Generic Asian Man,” or his aspiration to become “Kung Fu Guy,” the ultimate achievement for an Asian American actor, robs Asian Americans of their individuality. Despite being a role many aspire to, “Kung Fu Guy” is merely “just another form of Generic Asian Man,” offering an assimilated version of Asian individuals. And the temptation to take such an opportunity is simple: “You take what you can get.” Consequently, Willis becomes lost in pursuing his dream and loses touch with his authentic self. He eventually embodies the stereotype he wishes to transcend and fades into the background, overcome by societal pressure. Intentionally characterized by Yu, the transformation makes Willis a mundane character who lacks depth and distinction. Beyond his stereotypical Asian background, there is little known about Wills, indicating towards his lack of individuality. 

Yu’s story centers around Willis’ journey to find himself, discovering who he is beyond his ultimate dream. Through Willis’ struggle of understanding his identity, Yu explores the complexities of assimilation and poses a choice: Do we put on a persona that abandons our heritage, or do we stay true to ourselves, risking exclusion from our new home and country? There is no definitive answer to that question––it’s up to us to decide which matters more. As a result, Willis navigates between his two cultures, the two separate halves that make him an Asian American.

Willis’ journey reflects a common dilemma: the choice between fantasy and practicality. While his love for acting is genuine and may fulfill his desires eventually, allowing stereotypes to erase his sense of self is not the path Wills needs to take. Over time, Willis learns to find fulfillment in his own identity, rather than a character who blends into the background. Willis’ journey reminds us of the importance of identity and to recognize what truly matters in life. At various points in time, we all find ourselves slipping into a state of performance, playing the roles society designates to us. But beneath these roles, and to some extent, part of our performances, lies our individuality. 

As a member of the Asian-American community, I didn’t gain anything profoundly new about the shared struggle of connecting two separate identities. Nevertheless, seeing a personal experience (that often feels intertwined with Yu’s own) has provided me with a sense of comfort and relatability. There’s something authentic about the father-to-son moments that is difficult to capture elsewhere. In Asian culture, everything that needs to be said is conveyed through our actions: “a family should never have to say sorry, or please, or thank you, for that matter, these being redundant … needing to remain unstated always, these being the invisible fabric of what a family is."

Yu skillfully explores the interior experiences that resonate with us, as if our innermost thoughts are conveyed onto paper. His splattered use of “you” and “we” within the novel makes us––all of us––feel like we are the protagonists, a community of voices who suffer from internalizing stereotypes and erasing our authentic selves from the story. Each of us is a prisoner of identities imposed by others. However, through Willis’ experience, we take accountability and ownership of our narratives, learning to live for ourselves. We become vulnerable to our own faults and recognize our humanity beyond societal roles, achieving a state of being where we flow naturally with our authentic selves. 

Willis' transition from embodying a stereotypical role to becoming a genuine individual embodies the core of wu wei. He teaches us the importance of effortless action––having the courage to stay true to ourselves and allowing life to flow naturally, rather than conforming to a self manufactured by societal expectations. By offering another perspective of wu wei, Yu illustrates to readers that it's more than passive acceptance; it’s about following our internal motivations, without intention.