Anti‑Asian Racism During the Pandemic in Bat Eater and Other Names for Cora Zeng

The Thematic Claim

Bat Eater and Other Names for Cora Zeng argues that the COVID‑19 pandemic did not simply reveal dormant prejudice but actively created a permission structure for anti‑Asian violence. The novel traces a direct line from the first racial slur hurled at Delilah to a nationwide network of copycat killers who treat Asian women as disposable targets. Dehumanising labels—especially “bat eater”—become weapons that erase individual identity, reduce victims to a racist caricature, and justify murder. Yet the story also insists that these same labels can be reclaimed as a source of defiant power, and that the dead can form a collective that demands justice.

How the Theme Unfolds Across the Plot

1. The Murder That Sets Everything in Motion (Chapter One)

In April 2020, Cora and her half‑sister Delilah are searching for toilet paper in an empty East Broadway station. A man in a hoodie calls Delilah a “bat eater” and shoves her onto the tracks. The train kills her instantly. The slur is not an afterthought—it is the motive. The attacker never asks for money or threatens physical harm before pushing; the hateful word is both his justification and his weapon. The pandemic setting (deserted city, everyone afraid of the virus) gives him cover: no witnesses, no help, no consequences.

This scene establishes that for Cora, the pandemic is not a natural disaster but a social one. The virus itself is less frightening than the xenophobia it unleashes. Delilah’s murder becomes the foundational trauma that every subsequent act of racism echoes.

2. The Systemic Violence of Daily Life (Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten)

Months later, Cora tries to have a normal meal with her friends Harvey and Yifei at a Chinatown take‑out place. Two white men at a nearby table make audible jokes: “I heard they put rats in these” and “Don’t you mean bats?” They laugh. Cora has an intrusive vision of forcing a bat down the man’s throat. Then a brick flies through the restaurant window, shattering glass and cutting Cora and Harvey.

No one is arrested. The staff refuses to call the police. Cora understands that this attack is not random—it happens in Chinatown, at a Chinese restaurant, because the perpetrators see any Asian space as a legitimate target. The brick is a direct extension of the verbal slur: both say you do not belong here, you are the disease. This episode demonstrates that anti‑Asian racism is not limited to individual assaults but saturates everyday spaces, turning a simple meal into a life‑threatening encounter.

3. The Discovery of a Killing Network (Chapter Twenty‑Three)

Cora obtains a flash drive with police files. She finds a racist online forum called “American Dreamers” where users post snuff photos of murdered Asian women. One user, “yellowdeath,” posts a picture captioned “I <3 lamb skewers.” Cora realizes these are not random crimes: there is a copycat network. Officer Wang’s notes identify ten suspects, each of whom has committed a murder. A forum post says, “It’s open season.”

This revelation transforms the story from a personal tragedy into a systemic indictment. Delilah’s murderer was not a lone madman; he was part of a movement. The pandemic provided an excuse—the “China virus” narrative—to make violence against Asian women not only acceptable but celebratory. Cora understands that to fight her sister’s killer, she must fight an ideology.

4. Reclaiming the Slur and Leading the Dead (Chapter Twenty‑Four)

When a white man on the street grabs Cora’s arm and screams “You fucking bat eater!”, Cora does not stay silent. She shouts back, “That’s right! I am a fucking bat eater!” She publicly reclaims the insult, refusing to let it shame her. Then she descends into the closed East Broadway station, jumps onto the tracks, and finds herself joined by hundreds of hungry ghosts—the murdered Asian women from Officer Wang’s photographs. She leads them to the mayor’s residence and sets it on fire.

This sequence is the novel’s climax of agency. By owning the slur, Cora strips it of its power to hurt. The ghosts are not only victims; they are a coalition. The arson is not random destruction but a ritualised act of collective vengeance and remembrance. Cora transforms from a person who “sloughs off” identity into someone who builds a community of the dead.

5. Aftermath and a Fragile Hope (Chapter Twenty‑Five, Author’s Note)

In April 2021, Cora works as a deep cleaner, lives with Auntie Zeng, and grieves Harvey and Yifei (both killed). A mass shooting at an Atlanta spa targets Asian women, echoing the novel’s pattern. Cora receives her first vaccine dose and begins to find small pleasures. She offers half an orange to a ghostly hand and eats the other half herself, reclaiming agency over fear.

The Author’s Note explicitly states: “Anti‑Asian hate is real and deserves attention, but it is only one symptom of a deeply broken society.” Baker links the pandemic to Japanese American internment, capitalism’s sacrifice of the vulnerable, and the need for solidarity across all BIPOC communities. The novel’s ending is not triumphant—the system remains broken—but it affirms that joy and resistance are possible even amid unending horror.

Character Connections to the Theme

Cora Zeng: Her arc moves from trauma‑induced passivity (“an echo”) to active defiance. Reclaiming “bat eater” is the turning point. She becomes a bridge between the living and the dead.
Delilah Zeng: The first victim. Her murder is the catalyst for Cora’s entire journey. Delilah’s dream of modeling in China is violently cut short by racist violence.
Harvey Chen and Yifei Liu: Both die as a result of the racist violence. Harvey is killed while investigating the copycat network; Yifei, an undocumented immigrant, is buried on Hart Island as a Jane Doe. Their deaths underscore that systemic racism erases even the identity of the dead.
Yuxi He (mentioned in chapter evidence as He_Yuxi): A doctor killed in her bath. Cora cleans her apartment and later recognises her ghost. Yuxi represents the thousands of Asian women who worked on the front lines of the pandemic only to be murdered in their homes.
Auntie Zeng: The keeper of cultural rituals (joss paper, jade bracelet, orange offerings). She provides Cora with the tools to honour the dead and resist erasure.

Symbol Connections

Bat: The animal that appears in a drain at Yuxi’s crime scene and becomes a recurring image. It is simultaneously a literal creature and a racist slur. Cora’s vision of forcing a bat down a white man’s mouth inverts the dehumanisation.
Jade Bracelet: Auntie Zeng gives Cora her jade necklace “for protection.” The bracelet (or necklace) is a tangible link to family and Chinese heritage, an antidote to the erasure of racism.
Joss Paper: Burned as an offering to the dead. Cora uses joss paper to connect with Delilah and the murdered women. The ritual restores personhood to those the system wants to forget.
Orange: In the final chapter, Cora offers half an orange to a ghost and eats the other half. This act of sharing food reclaims agency and transforms fear into a gesture of communal survival.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel does not offer a simple condemnation of all violence. Cora shoves a man into traffic (he survives) and later sets the mayor’s house on fire. These actions are presented as necessary self‑defence and collective justice, but the book never fully endorses or condemns them—it leaves the ethical tension unresolved. Similarly, Cora’s use of the slur “bat eater” as a weapon could be seen as internalising the very label that killed her sister. Yet the novel frames it as reclamation: she becomes the thing they fear, which gives her power over them.

The Author’s Note adds another layer of complexity by insisting that anti‑Asian racism cannot be understood in isolation from white supremacy and the struggles of other BIPOC communities. Baker warns against “pitying Cora Zeng while condemning Trayvon Martin.” The novel thus refuses a single‑axis reading, forcing readers to see the interconnectedness of systemic oppression.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does the pandemic setting amplify the theme of anti‑Asian racism in the novel?
Answer: The pandemic provides both a pretext (the “China virus” narrative) and a cover (empty streets, overwhelmed systems) for racist violence. Delilah’s murder happens in a deserted station where no one can help; the copycat killers operate with impunity because the police are busy or indifferent. The pandemic normalises fear and scapegoating, making racism seem like a natural response to crisis.

2. Why does the slur “bat eater” recur throughout the story, and how does its meaning change for Cora?
Answer: Initially, “bat eater” is a hateful label that dehumanises Asian people and leads directly to Delilah’s death. Cora internalises it as shame. Later, she forcibly reclaims it: “That’s right! I am a fucking bat eater!” The slur becomes a badge of defiance, signifying that she will not be silenced or shamed. By owning the word, she strips it of its power to hurt and turns it into a rallying cry for the ghosts who follow her.

3. What role do the ghosts play in the novel’s critique of systemic racism?
Answer: The hundreds of hungry ghosts are the murdered Asian women the police and media ignored. They are not supernatural intruders but the visible consequence of a system that treats Asian women as disposable. When Cora leads them to set fire to the mayor’s residence, the ghosts become a collective demand for accountability. They transform the novel from a story about one victim to a story about an epidemic of violence.

4. How does Cora’s friendship with Yifei and Harvey challenge or reinforce the theme of anti‑Asian racism?
Answer: Harvey and Yifei are Cora’s only support system. They share her marginalised identity (Chinese American and Chinese immigrant) and her work cleaning crime scenes. Their deaths—Harvey killed while investigating, Yifei buried as a Jane Doe—prove that the system does not protect anyone seen as “other.” Yet their friendship also provides moments of dark humour and solidarity, showing that resistance can take the form of community, not just individual defiance.

5. The Author’s Note links anti‑Asian racism to broader white supremacy. How does the novel itself support that connection?
Answer: The novel shows that the same police force that ignored Delilah’s murder also covered up the copycat killings. The “American Dreamers” forum celebrates violence against all non‑white people, not just Asians. Cora’s realization that the killers include white men from various backgrounds, and that the murders are “open season,” points to a systemic ideology that treats any BIPOC life as cheap. The novel explicitly ends with a call for solidarity beyond a single community.