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vespertillio's review
3.0
I can see why this book is for some, it just was not for me. I found the writing style hard to engage with.
kingofspain93's review against another edition
5.0
all the ways my mind has been stunted in its growth, away from what is possible and towards what is expected, has resulted in hard lines between fiction and non-fiction, reality and unreality. I’ve played with crossing this line in my media consumption but rarely in my own life. why don’t we all do what Li does when we grieve? again and again she finds herself beholden to time, days, the limitations of vocabulary, but she still stays. how? I wish I could see the other side of history. I’m so glad that I get to be alive even for a few short decades. it is beautiful that I can love people and lose them and be with them in my mind. I wish that I didn’t reside so comfortably in my own intellectual ruts, not with all this life in there.
neha_rainbows's review
emotional
reflective
sad
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
Content Warnings
Moderate: Suicide and Child death
sam_bizar_wilcox's review
4.0
Incredibly challenging, Yiyun Li writes a novel that transcends its form. As a series of conversations between a mother and her late son, Li explores the chasm between language and grief. The result is a valiant and worthy exploration of what it means to survive a child, what we actually know about other people.
Reading during a time of global grief, I found much of Yiyun Li's observations incredibly resonant. She is spare and decisive with her language, yet her meditations on language through dialogue feel unrehearsed, as if capturing a real interaction between family.
The conceit is challenging. It's one that I would normal find saccharine and appalling. Yet here, the conversations between the living and the (imagined) dead are written not as emotionally cathartic, but as intellectually disarming and - to borrow a word mused in the text - "profound."
There are struggles I had with the novel. It was cerebral and self-knowing, its characters sometimes overly precious, sometimes exploring truistic ideas. But these struggles are what it means to wrestle with grief and language; these struggles are genuine. Li writes a Platonic dialogue, not unlike The Phaedo, deftly blending philosophy and literary narration. But unlike Plato, Li's conclusions are not designed, centering the focus not on the argumentative conclusion, but the experience of loss.
Reading during a time of global grief, I found much of Yiyun Li's observations incredibly resonant. She is spare and decisive with her language, yet her meditations on language through dialogue feel unrehearsed, as if capturing a real interaction between family.
The conceit is challenging. It's one that I would normal find saccharine and appalling. Yet here, the conversations between the living and the (imagined) dead are written not as emotionally cathartic, but as intellectually disarming and - to borrow a word mused in the text - "profound."
There are struggles I had with the novel. It was cerebral and self-knowing, its characters sometimes overly precious, sometimes exploring truistic ideas. But these struggles are what it means to wrestle with grief and language; these struggles are genuine. Li writes a Platonic dialogue, not unlike The Phaedo, deftly blending philosophy and literary narration. But unlike Plato, Li's conclusions are not designed, centering the focus not on the argumentative conclusion, but the experience of loss.
ksustoryteller's review
emotional
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Suicide
caedreads's review
emotional
reflective
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25