In the fall of 2023, I was recovering from rotator cuff surgery. They were long, slow days with one arm in a sling and not much I could do but sit still. That’s when I picked Facing the Mountain by Daniel James Brown. It wasn’t a book I planned to read. It came recommended quietly like a story that didn’t need to shout to matter.

And that’s precisely what this book turned out to be: quietly powerful.

Brown traces the stories of Japanese American men who volunteered to fight in World War II while their families were being held in internment camps back home. The story doesn’t rush. It doesn’t dramatize unnecessarily. It simply follows these men, their families, their decisions, and their heartbreak with care and deep humanity. That restraint made it hit even harder.

What struck me most was the contrast. On the one hand, these soldiers were willing to give everything for a country that had stripped them of their rights. On the other hand, their dignity and their restraint in the face of injustice are where the true weight of the story sits.

I read this book slowly. Some parts I had to reread. Some I had to put down and just sit with for a while. Not because it was graphic or overwhelming, but because it was honest. Because it showed me a side of history I didn’t learn in school, because the courage in these pages didn’t shout, it whispered.

This wasn’t just a recovery read. It was a reminder of resilience. Of integrity. Of how people can choose to rise, even when everything around them says they don’t belong.

Facing the Mountain isn’t a loud book, and that’s why it stays with you.

Buy Facing the Mountain on Bookshop.org
I love supporting indie bookstores!