Set in Toronto’s Junction neighbourhood, this bonbon of a novel tells a familiar David and Goliath tale

You’ve Got Nail.

The thought that passed through my silly, pun-happy brain as I started to read a new novel by Mai Nguyen, a debut that turns out to be one of the treats of summer and also one of the most acute depictions of modern Toronto. Set in the world of mani-pedis — of all things — and told through the alternating perspectives of a Vietnamese family — the Trans — “Sunshine Nails” (Simon & Schuster Canada) did indeed remind me, at least in parts, of a certain Nora Ephron flick starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.

Take out the bookstores and put in hand massages and the central conflict carries an echo: a family-run business is threatened when a flashy, with-it, American chain moves into the hood.

Cue the ripple effects. Pass the polish.

Already, the bonbon of a novel is attracting plenty of buzz. One of the key blurbs on the book comes from Taylor Jenkins Reid (of “Daisy Jones and the Six” fame) who calls it: “an insightful, moving story with striking depth, taking on gentrification, family expectations, and generational differences.” NPR, too, weighed in recently, gushing that “beneath the dust jacket’s bright yellows, purples and pinks is a novel of character studies that simmers with questions about work, class, generational divides and the expectations facing refugees making new homes in their asylums.”

It is a sleight of hand that Nguyen freely acknowledged when I touched base with her this week. “Kind of like sneaking vegetables into mac and cheese,” she quipped.

Crazy Not-So-Rich Asians. Also the sort of breeziness it evokes.

When I told her that her kind of book is sometimes the most effective vehicle to tell diverse stories — a beach read, with a familiar David/Goliath plot, one that explores microaggressions and includes all sorts of little nuggets, like how the parents in her book, Phil and Debbie, are named after ’80s pop stars Phil Collins and Debbie Gibson, in the manner in which so many Vietnamese people of a certain generation changed their names to “blend in” — she admitted: “I was definitely cognizant of not wanting to come off as too preachy or too ‘Now here’s the lesson of the day.’”

And though “Sunshine Nails” is set in the Junction neighbourhood of Toronto, it is clear she was informed by the nail salon her own parents have been running in Halifax since 1997.

“I always wanted to know why: why a nail salon?” Nguyen told me. “And why were all their Vietnamese friends also opening nail salons all over North America? I discovered an interesting history about how the actress Tippi Hedren (of Hitchcock fame) taught the first wave of boat refugees in California the art of doing a manicure because she wanted to arm them with skills to thrive in America. I thought it was such a charming origin story that essentially catapulted thousands of immigrants, including my parents, into this super-niche profession that’s not only lifted so many people out of poverty, but has also become this massive $8-billion industry.”

After a blockbuster New York Times exposé about nail salons roiled the industry, she was further inspired. And knew she had the backdrop for her novel.

Something that it also definitely nails — pun intended! — is the subject of economic insecurity. One almost ripped from the front pages of newspapers like this one.

“The reality of living in Toronto is that s–t is expensive! We all know food costs are going up, rent is astronomical, interest rates keep rising, but I was very curious to know how this was all affecting small business owners specifically. I see time and time again headlines of mom-and-pop shops closing down after being in business for many decades, then a cannabis store moves in and we never hear from those owners again. Mabel’s Fables. Tequila Bookworm. Galaxy Donuts … so many businesses shut down quietly, never to be heard from again.

“I always wondered,” Nguyen went on, “what went down in the months, weeks leading up to the closure. Why did they have to close? How were they doing emotionally, mentally? How hard did they push themselves to keep their livelihood from disappearing? I imagine many shop owners don’t go down without a fight and that’s why I wrote this book about a family that will literally break laws to keep their salon from shutting down.”

Tickled by the way Toronto forms her backdrop, I was reminded of how powerful fictional depictions of a city can be. And how they can whisk our collective mythology. So many of the earlier Margaret Atwood novels did this brilliantly: novels like “Cat’s Eye” and “The Edible Woman” and “The Robber Bride” brought to life everything from the Royal Ontario Museum to the Rivoli on Queen Street West. The iconic “In the Skin of a Lion,” by Michael Ondaatje, brought to life the building of the Bloor Street Viaduct.

Although this particular book is very different in tone, it is successful, nonetheless, in mythologizing the Junction. I was surprised to hear, though, that Nguyen had never actually lived in that west-end hood. Only frequented.

“I wanted to set the book here because I found the mix of old and new to be more conspicuous than any other neighbourhood in Toronto,” she says. “You’ve got old Victorian buildings next to sleek, boxy condo developments. You’ve got an indie nail salon charging $25 for a shellac manicure right beside a Scandinavian furniture store charging $300 for a pepper mill. There’s so much evidence that the neighbourhood is barrelling toward the future, but you can still see pockets where it’s still holding on to its past.”

A metaphor itself for the so-called “boat people”: the approximately 60,000 Vietnamese people who fled to Canada following the end of the Vietnam War. One that definitely plays into the backstory of the Tran family in “Sunshine Nails.” As it does in Nguyen’s own life. The whole identity angst that often hits second-gen kids.

Ending our exchange on a lighter note, I had to ask: what is the status of her own nails, especially now that she is in the midst of book promotion?

“Despite being a nail salon kid, I’m a plain Jane when it comes to nails,” she confessed. “Short, trimmed, no polish is my MO sadly. However, I did treat myself to some fabulous bright yellow shellac for book launch week, to match the cover. It brightens my day whenever I look at my nails, so I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.”

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