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peachani's review against another edition
emotional
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.25
Content Warnings
Graphic: Abandonment, Blood, Cancer, Outing, and Violence
Moderate: Cancer, Kidnapping, Lesbophobia, and Sexual violence
Minor: Abandonment, Death, Death of parent, Domestic abuse, Gore, Medical content, Physical abuse, and Racism
montereads's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
“What a thing a bad death was. It made a mythology that caught up in its wake old trees and young women alike, the violence of it reverberating through the years.”
Black Water Sister by Zen Cho is a chilling, family-centred ghost story about cycles of harm and reclaiming power. Jess, a young Malaysian woman raised in America, moves back to her hometown with her parents—only to find her grandmother, Ah Ma, haunting her. What proceeds is a romp through Penang’s spiritual circles, real-estate tussles, gang rivalries, and hipster cafes in search of a way to resolve Ah Ma’s gripes, stop being haunted, and go back to every recent grad’s beloved pastime: looking for a job. There was an almost superhero-esque note to the story that made it a lot of fun, even when the subject matter grew dark.
Jess and I are of different backgrounds, but we’re both immigrants, and a lot of her experiences sent a pang of sadness and familiarity through me. Cho writes the precariousness of half-belonging beautifully, showing us the ceaseless and overlapping comfort-discomfort of living across two cultures. Watching Jess grow more familiar with Penang, her family history, and her language reminded me that belonging isn’t static. Reconnection is always possible.
Cho leads us on a mostly straight path through this haunting mystery. There isn’t much lingering on backstory or filler information. The tight focus really let the setting and characters shine, and I found it helped avoid the believability issue I so often have with paranormal fantasy. Ah Ma and Black Water Sister felt viscerally real—Ah Ma hilariously so, spirited and witty. Black Water Sister, on the other hand, was terrifying.
The connection between the three women holds together the core of this book. Jess’s experiences with them brought up so many painful questions—what price will we pay for our own safety? What harm do our traumas lead us to inflict upon each other? How can we heal when the damage is ongoing? Cho handles these wounds and fears with grace, honesty, and tender care. Black Water Sister is a powerful story of belonging, diaspora, family, courage, faith, forging agency under patriarchy, and kicking some ass.
Thanks to Netgalley for the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Black Water Sister by Zen Cho is a chilling, family-centred ghost story about cycles of harm and reclaiming power. Jess, a young Malaysian woman raised in America, moves back to her hometown with her parents—only to find her grandmother, Ah Ma, haunting her. What proceeds is a romp through Penang’s spiritual circles, real-estate tussles, gang rivalries, and hipster cafes in search of a way to resolve Ah Ma’s gripes, stop being haunted, and go back to every recent grad’s beloved pastime: looking for a job. There was an almost superhero-esque note to the story that made it a lot of fun, even when the subject matter grew dark.
Jess and I are of different backgrounds, but we’re both immigrants, and a lot of her experiences sent a pang of sadness and familiarity through me. Cho writes the precariousness of half-belonging beautifully, showing us the ceaseless and overlapping comfort-discomfort of living across two cultures. Watching Jess grow more familiar with Penang, her family history, and her language reminded me that belonging isn’t static. Reconnection is always possible.
Cho leads us on a mostly straight path through this haunting mystery. There isn’t much lingering on backstory or filler information. The tight focus really let the setting and characters shine, and I found it helped avoid the believability issue I so often have with paranormal fantasy. Ah Ma and Black Water Sister felt viscerally real—Ah Ma hilariously so, spirited and witty. Black Water Sister, on the other hand, was terrifying.
The connection between the three women holds together the core of this book. Jess’s experiences with them brought up so many painful questions—what price will we pay for our own safety? What harm do our traumas lead us to inflict upon each other? How can we heal when the damage is ongoing? Cho handles these wounds and fears with grace, honesty, and tender care. Black Water Sister is a powerful story of belonging, diaspora, family, courage, faith, forging agency under patriarchy, and kicking some ass.
Thanks to Netgalley for the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Sexual assault, Violence, Death of parent, Homophobia, Kidnapping, and Sexual violence
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