"I keep Googling, thinking I will glimpse the shape and size of the hole Emily leaves behind, thinking someone will tell me what it all means. But all I see are the meanings other people giver her, and my face faintly reflected in the computer screen."
In this astonishingly appropriate conclusion to "Captioning Emily," Ng sums up her short story about identity. She explains that her obsession with Emily's case was because she can't seem to remember her the way she should based off their years spent together in college. After reading article after article, interviews, and transcripts, and the like, Ng cannot find a single piece which appropriately captures who Emily was. When she finally gives up searching, Ng finds herself staring back at her from her computer screen. She realizes that everybody brings an element of bias to their experiences which means that Emily's memory will always be somewhat tainted by the perspectives of people who knew her or who handled her case.
"Parts fall out of the conversation like paper snowflakes you cut out in kindergarten, mostly holes. You want to ask the girl next to you to translate, but you glance at her name tag and don’t know how to pronounce what’s there. Xiaoxia. She looks over at you and smiles."
In this excerpt, Ng beautifully describes what it feels like to miss half of a bilingual conversation. Young Mackenzie struggles to enjoy her Chinese culture club at school because the members seem to forget that she doesn't speak Chinese. Since she looks Chinese, she blends in and is forgotten. In visual and almost melodic terms Ng explains what it felt like for Mackenzie to sit through the club meeting.
"Smile blankly while Winston says, 'Mom, remember? Mackenzie doesn’t speak Chinese.' Mrs. Liu apologizes, patting your hand with hers, which is pale and cool and soft, like a little satin cushion. 'You keep listening, you pick it up,' she says each time. 'You born with it, inside you understand it. In here.' She taps her chest."
In this quotation, Mackenzie describes her interaction with her new Chinese boyfriend's mom. His mom keeps slipping into Chinese during their lunch, forgetting that Mackenzie doesn't speak it. When reminded, Mrs. Liu leans in and encourages Mackenzie to keep trying. She offers some of the best inspiration by confidently insisting that its in the girl's DNA to speak the language, that it will come naturally after a little practice, that she does understand. This sort of adamant refusal to accept failure speaks to such a high measure of assurance that Mackenzie can't help but be encouraged by the older woman's words.
"I tried to imagine myself hard-boiled and tough, like a detective in one of my mother’s Ellery Queen magazines. Mr Mitchell, I know who’s staying in your hotel room. It almost made me laugh out loud, but it wasn’t funny at all. He’d pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about, the girl would disappear, and next time they’d go to some other hotel where no one would notice, or care. Nothing would change. And who was I to tell this girl what to do, anyway? I called Caitlin at my mother’s instead."
Narrator Brianna suffers from a mental condition which results in intrusive memories and an obsessive relationship to detail. When she realizes that she's getting caught up in a fantasy over this young girl at the hotel, she keeps herself in check by rehearsing the truth. She tells herself the probable outcome of her obsessive involvement with this girl's private affairs in order to reaffirm her establishment in reality. This mental exercise helps her release hold of this fixation and direct her energy elsewhere, to her daughter.
