Amy Chan is a late-20s queer, non-binary Asian artist who works precarious casual jobs. Edward Smith is a 45-year-old self-described CEO whose interests include “Billy Joel, champagne, steak night at the pub and the odd cigar”. When we meet them at the beginning of People With Money, they are in a marriage counselling session.
Race, class and gender are all tension points in this mismatched relationship, but how exactly did these two come together in the first place? That’s the question posed by Melbourne author Jess Ho in their first novel following the 2022 memoir Raised by Wolves. And the answer is in the title.
People With Money traces this unlikely couple’s relationship from their first meeting at the clothing store where Amy works to a proposal only a couple of months later. In its exploration of that trifecta of tensions, it’s similar to Jessie Tu ’s A Lonely Girl is a Dangerous Thing and the novels of Kiley Reid, but Amy’s gender identity offers a new perspective.
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The primary relationship is described in mostly cold, transactional terms, with brief, unconvincing flashes of tenderness. Edward is casually racist, can’t get Amy’s pronouns right, has a drinking problem and is not interested in “politics, identity or money”, while Amy is opinionated, blunt and righteous – they don’t hold back when Edward’s father makes a joke about his son having “bought” them, or when his childhood best friend turns out to be a boorish homophobe, or when his prissy sister hosts a gender-reveal party. Ho’s signature dry, sarcastic tone is present throughout, but these cartoonishly villainous characters border on caricature, and Amy’s vocal defiance reads like Social Justice 101.
Other relationships in Amy’s orbit are also complicated by power and status. Their art school friends are, too, people with money – despite bohemian lifestyles and names such as Chaos and Samdrogyny, they’re all private school kids living off the Bank of Mum and Dad. It’s clear that Amy is an outsider even in their own social group – “judged for not being white, not being rich or not being ‘trans enough’”.
Then, in flashback, there’s Catherine Swell: an art teacher who becomes Amy’s mentor and a reprieve from their loveless parents. Under the guise of attending Chinese classes, the young Amy secretly learns to paint from Catherine, but also gains access to therapists, their first part-time job and connections in the art world, and a taste for boeuf bourguignon.
Considering Ho’s background as a food writer and in the restaurant business, it’s no surprise the prose is most alive when describing food, which provides another interpretation of the couple’s relationship. Edward and Amy eat their way through slippery brisket noodles, stuffed fried bean curd skins, stewed meats and braised chicken feet. Amy’s penchant for pairing champagne with french fries becomes a metaphor for the worlds they are straddling, and “Slop Nights” – dinners cobbled together from random fridge ingredients – bring a touch of relatable levity. In comparison, the bland food served by Edward’s posh parents, Anne and Charles, reflects Amy’s lack of excitement: an “overcooked, underseasoned” chicken “the size of a chihuahua”, and a plump pavlova that’s the harbinger of unexpected doom.
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Where the novel falls short is in Amy’s frustrating lack of agency at crucial points – for instance, when Edward whisks them away to Singapore and Hong Kong at a whim, which stands at odds with how the character is presented elsewhere. There are also scenes that feel like an afterthought, such as the 2019 Hong Kong protests which briefly serve to highlight the tension between Amy’s life in Australia and their cultural background, but could have been further fleshed out or more seamlessly interwoven.
The novel’s plot zigzags through events that become increasingly random and outlandish, sometimes bordering on parody without being sharp enough for satire (a punch line about gender being “fluid” had me audibly groaning). Though the novel has well-meaning ideas and politics at its core, much like the story’s dog-sized chook, unfortunately People With Money is overcooked and underseasoned.
Jess Ho’s People With Money is out now (Affirm Press; $34.99)
Race, class and gender are all tension points in this mismatched relationship, but how exactly did these two come together in the first place? That’s the question posed by Melbourne author Jess Ho in their first novel following the 2022 memoir Raised by Wolves. And the answer is in the title.
This report is published with credit to theguardian.com. Full available text from the wire is above. Read on theguardian.com →
Source: theguardian.com · Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen. Published 3 Sept 2026, 08:00 pm.
