Crazy Rich Asians follows Rachel Chu, an economics professor, as she accompanies her boyfriend, Nick, to Singapore for his best friend’s wedding. At the outset, Rachel knows little about Nick’s family or upbringing—but soon, she discovers that Nick is from one of the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest, families in Singapore. In the week leading up to the wedding, she’s shocked to encounter people who think it’s totally normal to buy a dozen or more couture garments in Paris every season (and to fly there on private jets), to eat delicacies prepared by an army of private chefs for every meal, and to live in multimillion-dollar apartments or estates outfitted with the latest technology and decorated with priceless art. To do or have anything less, characters both imply and say explicitly, is to live like a “peasant.”
This view is utterly absurd to Rachel, a middle-class American, and it’s presented as something readers are supposed to find absurd to the point of hilarity. But while humorous and absurd on one hand, Crazy Rich Asians also highlights how damaging this kind of money can be. It keeps people from marrying who they want, including Rachel: though Nick proposes, his mother and grandmother tell him to call it off, as they can’t fathom letting someone as low-income as Rachel into the family. And Eleanor, Nick’s mother, goes to truly absurd lengths to achieve her goals, including spending thousands of Chinese yuan on a private investigator to dig into Rachel’s family and find damning information. So, while the lavish displays of wealth in Crazy Rich Asians are played for laughs for those with no skin in the game—such as readers—the novel also highlights how wealth of this magnitude also has the ability to deprive people of their humanity and compassion.
Wealth and Absurdity ThemeTracker
Wealth and Absurdity Quotes in Crazy Rich Asians
“Well, first of all, you must understand that there are two kinds of Chinese. There are the Chinese from Mainland China, who made their fortunes in the past decade like all the Russians, but then there are the Overseas Chinese. These are the ones who left China long before the Communists came in, in many cases hundreds of years ago, and spread throughout the rest of Asia, quietly amassing great fortunes over time. [...]”
His wife cut in. “Let me just say this: We visited Astrid’s family a few years ago. You can’t imagine how staggeringly rich these people are, Marie-Hélène. The houses, the servants, the style in which they live. It makes the Arnaults look like peasants.”
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Get LitCharts A+Eddie was always trying to guesstimate his parents’ net worth, much of which was gleaned from information his real estate friends leaked to him. It became an obsession of his, and he kept a spreadsheet on his home computer, diligently updating it every week based on property valuations and then calculating his potential future share. No matter how he ran the numbers, he realized he would most likely never make Fortune Asia’s list of “Hong Kong’s Top Ten Richest” with the way his parents were handling things.
“Don’t you know? It’s the wedding of the year! It’s been covered on every channel, in every magazine, and in about a million blogs!”
“Why? Are they famous?” Rachel asked, completely baffled.
“AH-LA-MAAAK! Colin Khoo is Khoo Teck Fong’s grandson! He comes from one of the reeee-chest families in the world! And Araminta Lee—she’s the supa-model daughter of Peter Lee, one of China’s reeee-chest men, and Annabel Lee, the hotel queen. This is like royal weddeeeng!” Neena gushed.
“I had no idea,” Rachel said in astonishment. “I just met them last night.”
“So my grandmother’s eldest daughter, Aunt Mabel T’sien, was married off to Nick’s grandmother’s younger brother Alfred Shang.”
“Married off? Does that mean it was an arranged marriage?”
“Yes, very much so, plotted by my grandfather T’sien Tsai Tay and Nick’s great-grandfather Shang Loong Ma. Good thing they actually liked each other. But it was quite a masterstroke, because it strategically bound together the T’siens, the Shangs, and the Youngs.”
“What for?” Rachel asked.
“Oh come on, Rachel, don’t play the naïf with me. For the money, of course. It joined together three family fortunes and kept everything neatly locked up.”
He rented a cozy alcove studio on Morton Street that didn’t seem to contain anything of value aside from his laptop, bike, and stacks of books. He dressed distinctively but casually, and Rachel (having no reference for British bespoke menswear) never realized just how much those rumpled blazers with the Huntsman or Anderson & Sheppard labels cost.
“Did you see what she was wearing? Where did she get that cheap-looking tunic top—Mango?”
“How can you expect her to have any style? Think she gets it from reading American Vogue? Hahaha.”
“Actually, Francesca says that she’s not even ABC—she was born in Mainland China.”
“I knew it! She’s got that same desperate look all my servants have.”
“Well here’s a chance for her to get some decent clothes at last!”
“Just you watch, with all that Young money she’s going to upgrade pretty damn quick.”
“We’ll see—all the money in the world can’t buy taste if you weren’t born with it.”
Bernard paused for a moment, supremely conflicted. He wanted to enjoy the dogfights, but at the same time he wanted everyone to witness the profuse ass-kissing he would receive from hotel management the minute they pulled up to the resort.
“Isabel, I’m going to tell it to you like it is, because everyone here is wasting your time being polite. You can’t afford to fall in love with Simon. Let me break it down for you. Let’s be generous and assume that Simon is making a measly eight hundred thousand a year. After taxes and CPF, his take-home is only about half a million. Where are you going to live on that kind of money? [...] We’ve already spent four hundred and seventy thousand of Simon’s salary, which leaves just thirty thousand for everything else. How are you going to put food on the table and clothe your babies with that? [...] Don’t you see? It’s impossible for you to marry Simon. We wouldn’t worry if you had your own money, but you know your situation. The clock is ticking on your pretty face.”
“To be completely honest, Nick is the first guy I’ve dated who I could imagine being married to. But I was never raised to believe that marriage supposed to be my life’s goal. My mother wanted me to get the best education first. She never wanted me to end up having to wash dishes in a restaurant.”
“That’s not the case over here. No matter how advanced we’ve become, there’s still tremendous pressure for girls to get married. Here, it doesn’t matter how successful a woman is professionally. She isn’t considered complete until she is married and has children. Why do you think Araminta is so eager to get married?”
His father had come to Singapore as a fourteen-year-old laborer and built a construction business out of sheer sweat and tenacity, and as their family business blossomed over the decades into a far-flung empire, Wye Mun thought that he had leveled the playing field. Singapore was a meritocracy, and whoever performed well was invited into the winner’s circle. But those people—those people behind the gates were a sudden reminder that this was not entirely the case.
“Remember, every treasure comes with a price.”
As Dr. Gu walked slowly back into his house, he felt a sudden pang of regret. He wished he hadn’t said so much about the Youngs. Wye Mun, as usual, had steered him toward the stories about money, and he had missed the chance to tell them the real story, about a man whose greatness had nothing to do with wealth or power.
“This is the first time you have been serious with a Chinese man. There is so much you don’t know about the proper etiquette with these families.”
“I didn’t realize you could be so old-fashioned,” Rachel teased. “Besides, Nick’s family doesn’t seem really Chinese at all. They seem more British if anything.”
“It doesn’t matter. You are Chinese, and you still need to behave like a properly brought-up Chinese girl,” Kerry said.
“Isn’t it fun?” Eleanor said merrily. She looked at Rachel and said, “I was never allowed to set foot in the kitchen at my mother-in-law’s house. Now I get to eat in my own kitchen, and actually watch the food being cooked!” Rachel smiled in amusement—here was a woman who obviously had never cooked a meal in her life but seemed to relish the novelty of being inside a kitchen.
“Well, I love to cook. I can only dream of one day having a kitchen as beautiful as yours, Mrs. Young,” Rachel said.
Eleanor smiled graciously. I’m sure you can—with my son’s money.
“I don’t know what planet you’re living on, but things are not ‘just fine.’ Nicky is going to propose to this girl any minute now. What was the whole point of my sending you to New York? You had one simple mission to accomplish, and you failed miserably.”
“You have no appreciation for what I’ve accomplished for myself. I’m part of New York society now,” Amanda proudly declared.
“Who gives a damn about that? You think anyone here is impressed to see pictures of you in Town & Country?”
She walked down the aisle on her father’s arm in a classically inspired wedding dress designed by Valentino, whom she lured out of retirement to make precisely the sort of gown that generations of European princesses had gotten married in, the sort of gown that would make her look every inch the proper young wife from a very traditional, old-money Asian family.
“Aiyah, she’s just a pretty girl that Nicky’s having fun with.” Su Yi laughed, as if the idea of him marrying Rachel was too ridiculous to even consider.
“That’s not the way it looks to me,” Alexandra warned.
“Nonsense. Nicky has no intentions with this girl—he told me so himself. And besides, he would never do anything without my permission. Alistair simply needs to obey your wishes,” Su Yi said with finality.
“The monochromatic fashion statement I was planning for the whole family is RUINED because of him!”
“And you’ve just ruined the whole trip for me!” Fiona suddenly blurted out. “I’m so sick of all this. Why is it so damn important for us to look picture-perfect every time we walk out the door? Who exactly are you trying to impress? The photographers? The readers of Hong Kong Tattle? You really care so much about them that you’d rather hit your own son over an accident that you caused in the first place by screaming at him for wearing the wrong cummerbund?”
“Well, I heard that you ran off to Malaysia, and that you mean to ask the girl to marry you,” Su Yi said, not bothering to look at Rachel.
Rachel pursed her lips, shocked and thrilled at the same time.
“I was planning to surprise Rachel, but I guess that’s ruined now,” Nick huffed, staring at his mother.
“No matter, Nicky,” his grandmother smiled. “I do not give you permission to marry her. Now let’s stop all this nonsense and go home. I don’t want to be stuck having dinner here, when the cook hasn’t prepared properly for me. I’m sure she didn’t get any fresh fish today.”
“I want them to love their family, but to feel a deeper sense of pride in who they are as individuals, Nick, not in how much money they have, what their last name is, or how many generations they go back to whatever dynasty. I’m sorry, but I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of being around all these crazy rich Asians, all these people whose lives revolve around making money, spending money, flaunting money, comparing money, hiding money, controlling others with money, and ruining their lives over money. And if I marry you, there will be no escaping it, even if we live on the other side of the world.”