Ryka Aoki’s novel ‘Light from Uncommon Stars’ shines upon a diverse San Gabriel Valley
In Ryka Aoki’s novel “Light from Uncommon Stars,” an essential instrument of the plot is an actual instrument. The violin figures in the story as part of a nefarious bargain, a source of competition, and a tool for empowerment.
A work of speculative fiction set in the San Gabriel Valley, “Light From Uncommon Stars” merges elements of folklore and science fiction as three women wrestle to balance tradition and modernity: Katrina Nguyen, a young transgender violinist fleeing an abusive home to start a new life; Shizuka Satomi, a musical prodigy turned teacher with an ulterior motive; Lan Tran, a donut shop owner and mother who used to captain a starship.
Aoki, who grew up in Rosemead, said she was attracted to writing about the area in the book. Describing the differences and diversity of neighborhoods from Monterey Park to San Marino, she drops in real-world landmarks such as La Puente’s Donut Hole, Arcadia’s Santa Anita Plaza and the San Gabriel River Freeway, aka the 605 freeway, among others.
“Because we’re so spread out, places like the San Gabriel Valley can develop and create these very dynamic and, in some ways, self-sufficient communities that reflect the people that are there,” she says. “I wanted to bring some of that perspective to readers.”
She pays tribute to local events, like Temple City’s Camellia Festival and its more than 75-year history. Aoki notes the consistency of local events, how the specifics might change, but they continue on for years after they began.
“I think that we hunger, regardless of where we’re from, for a sense of tradition,” says the author, who is now based in Hollywood.
Aoki writes with such a deep understanding for the violin that it’s surprising to learn she’s actually a pianist. She learned violin as part of her research for “Light From Uncommon Stars,” and her enthusiasm for the instrument, both in the book and during our recent phone interview, is infectious.
“The violin, it does everything well that the piano can’t do. It can vibrato. It can glissando,” she says. “It can do all kinds of interesting things.”
Aoki visited violin shops, learning how the instrument is constructed and taking in the smell of the varnish in workshops. But it was actually playing the instrument herself that made the greatest impact on the novel. For months, she turned away from the piano to focus on violin.
“That sort of research, I think I had to earn that by learning to play violin,” she says. “I had to get my callouses.”
In the midst of her research, Aoki had a profound moment of self-discovery that would, ultimately, help shape one of the novel’s themes. Aoki, who is transgender, explains that she is using her upper vocal register as we talk.
“If I go to my lower register, I run into a little bit of auditory dysphoria – it doesn’t sound like the voice that I want to have,” she says.
As she played violin, she noticed how the instrument also functioned as a voice. “The violin is so delicate, yet so nuanced and so powerful, I could play it, sing through the violin and sing with abandon actually,” she explains.
It was an emotional discovery for Aoki. “I don’t think it was the quality of my playing. I don’t think I’m there yet,” she says of the revelation. “I think it was the freedom, the potential, the idea that, here, I could finally have a voice that matched the voice in my head. It felt right,” she explains. “So, I wanted to give that to one of my characters, Katrina, because I know what it’s like to be monitoring one’s voice 24/7 and it’s really rough.”
As the characters came to life on the pages of “Light From Uncommon Stars,” Aoki relied on the insight she’d gained from teaching at Santa Monica College.
“I teach students with all sorts of background stories, all sorts of different abilities, all sorts of different strengths and weaknesses. Some of them have been scarred from other professors or their high school. Some of them love English. I have to somehow turn that into a cohesive class and have everybody learn something,” she says. “What I try to do sometimes is just listen. Eventually, the class will tell me what it is. It’s served me for many years.”
Ultimately, that experience has led to a book full of richly developed characters from varying backgrounds existing in a world that is both fantastic and deeply rooted in a real place and time.
“If you read my book, I’m happy. But what I wanted to allow for in the book is to let you be your contradictory, multifaceted self,” says Aoki of her readers. “Maybe that will help them see a little bit more of themselves in my work.”