Reviews with content warning for Medical content - How High We Go in the Dark

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How High We Go in the Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu

117 reviews

pacifickat's review against another edition

emotional hopeful reflective sad slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

This book is exactly the sort of thing I would enjoy: a series of loosely interconnected short stories that serve as vignettes of people’s lives surrounding a central world-altering event. Suffice it to say, I loved this book – its style, its many distinct voices, and the audiobook narration with different voice actors for each section was perfection. I savored each chapter, often listening to only one a day so I could mull it over before dropping into the next character's life.

I like stories that drop you into the middle of a believable world and don’t demand neat endings. I also love the way short fiction has to employ an economy of language and storytelling that packs a lot into a small footprint. What it doesn’t accomplish in terms of intricately detailed plotlines and worldbuilding, it makes up for in immediate emotional connections with characters we didn’t know a moment ago but feel invested in anyway. How High We Go In The Dark is a deeply empathetic book, allowing readers to bear witness to the pain, sacrifice, heartache, character flaws, triumphs, failures, and hopes in others, and feel a shared sense that perhaps we as humans aren’t so alone in this mess of existence. It also hints at how we are all connected, even when we don’t realize it, in this uncanny thing we call existence within the uncanny universe we call home.

Here is a sampling of my thoughts on the various stories Nagamatsu wove together in this book:

1. Mundane moments taken for granted – the value of everyday human connection:

The Used-to-Be-Party

“As you know, I never showed up to anything back then. I was never one to connect. I’ve been that way my entire life. I went to work, kept my head down, and came home. I let old friendships fizzle. I orbited my family and all of you like a distant planet, there and yet nearly impossible to reach. I know I can’t survive alone. Maybe this will get lost in a stack of your unopened mail. Maybe you’ll read it and throw it away and say it’s too late. Or, maybe you’ll peak out your window and wonder about coming over and saying, ‘Hey, me, too. I’m hallow and cracked and imploding.’”

It seems that terrible things can both pull us together and break us apart, sometimes all at once.

2. The distance carved between generations after widespread catastrophe – the struggle to hold space of each other:

Grave Friends

“I don’t think anyone in the neighborhood was good at having important conversations with the younger generation. The elders had come to an understanding while recovering from a global pandemic that erected funerary towers into our skies. Nobody asked us what we wanted. Nobody questioned the new tradition.”

The author does a stellar job of describing the sense of disorienting disconnect that can be felt by a ‘lost generation’ in the wake of some great tragedies. What worked for the old generation may not help the new one to adapt, cope, and move forward. The world has changed, and embracing change is hard all around. Some experience varying levels of success, while others cannot move on at all and seem adrift and without an anchor in life. All the measures of happiness and success of the past have shifted or crumbled away, and the task of redefining such things can be full of grief and loneliness in a world that struggles to hold space for such feelings of doubt and frustration.

3. The intersection between technology and human experience yields mixed and nuanced results:

VR, robotics, advanced medical treatments, cryogenics, euthanasia machines, light speed space travel… Nagamatsu spends a great deal of time weaving a variety of technologies into his storylines. He seems to be pulling at the threads of a discussion around how technology can both help and hinder in the attempt to connect, grieve, find hope, and move on in life after trauma or tragedy. Sometimes they provide merciful comforts or open up new possibilities, and sometimes they inhibit the process of letting go or building connections with the living. Are characters being distracted, or receiving welcome relief from trauma and despair?

Several stories deal with the difficulty of coming to terms with the reality of one’s situation, of coping in the “real world” when so much has been lost and so many standard parameters have changed. Technology seems to waffle between keeping people stuck and giving them a means of connecting and finding hope. Whether an opiate of the masses, a thinly-veiled tool of capitalist opportunism, a merciful coping or exit strategy, a stabilizing force, or a means of survival, it is left up to the reader to consider each individual story as humans interact with the various technologies interwoven into their lives.

4. Sometimes we grieve what could have been as much as what actually was:

This could be a parent losing a child - the person they were and the bright future that will never be. Or, the complicated feelings of an adult child losing parents one by one who didn’t know how to deal with a child who didn't conform to their expectations. It could also include lost dreams and possibilities that will never again be within reach.

Several stories show how strained community or familial relationships, in the end, can mean either everything or simply yield a longing for what could or should have been. And sometimes we’re not entirely sure which one it is in retrospect, as memories and longings blur together.

5. How do we as humans interpret large-scale disaster?

Is there larger meaning to horrible events that yield widespread destruction? Through most of the book, the question of the origin of the strange pandemic, as well as perhaps some shadowy intended purpose it might serve, lingers in the background.

Was the pandemic in this story a grand alien experiment designed to force adaptations or spur humanity into intergalactic connection out of sheer desperation? Or, was it a cosmic accident, a strange stroke of fate, one outcome in a multitude of possible or probably conclusions, the result of careless hubris? Did the pandemic in this story save humanity, or nearly wipe us out – or both? Is widespread suffering the upfront cost of human adaptation – a wake-up call to evolve, a hard line in the sand that the species must either change with changing parameters or die out? In a way, could such misfortune be interpreted on a cosmic scale as a stroke of luck, adding new possible outcomes to a planet otherwise at the end of its habitable lifespan?

Perhaps the truth is relative, or perhaps it’s some weird mixture of all of these options. The book gives few clear answers on this scale, favoring exploring microcosms of individual human experiences of such events at various distinct points in time before, during, and after the worst of the plague. However, the book does hint at a few larger themes, zoomed out to scales of time and space beyond individual lifespans. This is where literary fiction meets speculative fiction, and I’m here for it.

6. So much hope – grieving, letting go, and grasping something new:

A Gallery a Century, A Cry a Millennium

“Dear Yumi, I can’t wait to show you how far we’ve come. We could’ve done better, certainly – your mother, us, the world. For a long time, I felt like I failed you. I wished you could’ve had a full life with all the heartbreak and college drama and shitty jobs we took for granted.
But over the past few centuries, I realized I don’t want that for you anymore. Sure, I want you to understand what the world was, but you’re young enough to make this new world your life – a start without regrets and mistakes, a start that will be better because you know how much we used to hurt. Looking at you through your chamber glass, I can see your mother and grandfather in you, and you’ll be bringing the best of them on your journey – their drive and curiosity and quest to unlock the mysteries, to do what’s right. You’ll cry and be uncertain at first, that’s ok. But there’s a whole universe waiting for you. I’ve helped you this far, little one. We helped each other get here. But now, now is your time. It’s time to lead me into the red grass and tell me the story of how we get to be. It’s time to wake up.”

7. In spite of great horror and pain, stories of connection, hope, longing, self-sacrifice, and deep empathy endure:

A talking pig can break your whole heart.

Content Warnings

jcreads85's review against another edition

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adventurous challenging dark emotional mysterious reflective sad fast-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Plot
Strong character development? N/A
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

4.0/5 Stars

This may be the strangest book I’ve ever read.

To be honest, I'm not sure what to say about this book. It is written in parts, as if short stories. But they are all by the same author with the same undercurrent - an apocalyptic virus freed from the permafrost in Siberia. The stories are each unique points of view from all over the world, though most will have a character, place, or thing that was mentioned in another story. The stories span time and space, and even plains of reality. And the actual virus described is terrifying and other worldly.

I listened to this book on audio, the full cast was remarkable. And though disturbing content, the tale was very compelling.

I'd say, my biggest complaint, is that for each point of view you only get a moment in time. And some you really want to follow-longer. It's as if someone else has control of the channels, and flip them at will.

And while there isn't an ending, per se, there is an explanation of events...from an other worldly point of view.

Content Warnings

otakatoe3's review against another edition

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adventurous challenging dark emotional reflective sad tense fast-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? Yes
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

Content Warnings

st_ender's review against another edition

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hopeful reflective sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? A mix
Strong character development? N/A
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

5.0

Last part sort of let me down but it's still a hit

Content Warnings

heytaytay12's review against another edition

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challenging dark emotional hopeful reflective sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Plot
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A

4.25

Dark, disturbing, and deeply hopeful.

Content Warnings

baileyes's review against another edition

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challenging dark emotional hopeful sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Plot
Strong character development? N/A
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.25

I can see it being a favorite book for many but it wasn’t really for me

Content Warnings

foldingthepage_kayleigh's review against another edition

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challenging dark emotional sad slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? Yes
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.25

This novel is a collection of short vignettes, following interconnected characters through their experiences with dying and death, of the people and animals around them and of the world.

I’ve been sitting on this review for awhile because I’ve needed to collect myself and my thoughts after this depressing read. Almost grotesque in its depictions of grief, I found myself crying in horror at almost every chapter. This book reminded me a lot of Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, but even more bleak and realistic.

Overall, I think this book adds something interesting to the sci-fi genre in its speculations about death industries, and to be able to give impactful characterizations in just one chapter each is impressive. I’d recommend this book to those who like well-written books that will make you feel emotionally intense, and who find medical/sci-fi/space to be intriguing.

Content Warnings

sgrunwald96's review against another edition

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challenging dark reflective sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? N/A
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? No

5.0

The first 5 star book I’ve read that I’m not sure I’ll read again. Brutally sad and deeply relatable in our late-capitalism, post-pandemic world. It seems so close to where we could have gone if things had gotten worse. I liked the story linkages and the unique storylines. It felt like a good reminder of how many first-person perspectives there are, even when tragedy blurs people into statistics.

Content Warnings

plantybooklover's review against another edition

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adventurous challenging dark sad slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? Yes
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

This is a speculative fiction book, mashed up with sci fi, and a touch of horror. A creative and inventive exploration of a fictional pandemic started by Ground water contamination. Each chapter explores themes of the environment, relationships, community, grief, death and dying. Per notes, this was started in 2011- so it must have been wild for the author to experience the Covid 19 Pandemic as it unrolled. The parallels are never far from the mind as one reads. Definitely a thought provoking reading experience.

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tyras_bookshelf's review against another edition

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adventurous challenging dark emotional hopeful inspiring mysterious sad tense slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Plot
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus? No

3.5

Themes: grief, death, illness, love, existentialism , pandemic/plague

My score of this book feels really complicated because I don’t think a 3.5 conveys how touched I was by the stories, even if I didn’t really like the book. Enjoying a book isn’t the basis of it being good by any means but I hesitate to rank something highly if I didn’t like it much.

Focusing on two stories in particular-Through the Garden of Memory and The Scope of Possibility- these were incredibly creative and emotional. I give these separate stories each a 4 because I would recommend and reread them as short stories. That said, I didn’t like the others enough to warrant a 4 for the whole book.

Many of the stories felt disjointed. They were all written as short stories since 2013 that were combined so that underscores my point. I’m glad Nagamatsu wove them together with characters that crossed over into each story unlike other books I’ve read with this similarly approach but I felt they lacked true cohesion as one book.

That said, I have so many thoughts so the following is me basically live tweeting the book as I read it. Skip to the end if you don’t wanna read my brain dump.

—

Interesting how Clara spins being away from her daughter; her negligence seems fueled by this idea of grandeur and importance in her work (now that I’ve finished the book, this makes a lot of sense).

I wonder if we’ll get into Yumi’s origin, Clara likely didn’t want to be a mom (how wrong I was).

Really big philosophical questions about global community; Clara at a young age is already consumed by the ills of the world and her responsibility to bear witness to tragedy.

I think the chapter with the darkness and the bubble memories is my favorite (Through the Garden of Memory). I really really like how he conceptualized memory and death and this sort of limbo of the afterlife. I also love/hate how vague and ambiguous the ending of that chapter was because that feels encompassing of my understanding of death. I thought it was really interesting too how Nagamatsu illustrates all of those people that have died the same way, and have ended up in the same sort of ether, a place/non-place, because it feels symbolic of connection through tragedy. I can imagine like people having died of a mass tragedy all at once ending up in the same place together still so tied to each other.

Pig son is freaky, and perverse and kind of precious because this pig is essentially a child. And also kind of makes me think that the baby from the ether/memory garden ended up in a pig body or something. (The audio section of this part of the book also made me nauseous. The voice actor was great but the pig man sounded absolutely retched)

Interesting how money is still so prevalent in this post-disease society. The whole book is freaky and sci-fy heavy which feels at times too close to impossibility to be realistic (not that it has to be because this is fiction after-all) but then Nagamatsu connects some element of culture or humanness or capitalism that grounds the story in realness again.

Similar to The Candy house and Cloud Cuckoo Land which I also had complicated feelings about.

Really kind of bored around the space travel chapter. It was just talking about the grandmother and the daughter and I didn’t find much to be challenging/interesting in that chapter as it played out. Although I was really happy to see that a cure was created, and that the world is rebuilding itself (this felt needed and hopeful).

I think the biggest unbelievable aspect of that storyline, though, and maybe this is my own cynicism, is that corporations would be focused at all on healing the planet is laughable. It’s lovely that Nagamatsu could picture a world where humanity and our survival was more important than profits, but even in his story currency still exists, and there were still the messages of classism throughout the book.

6,000 years!? But what’s time really without a connection to the sun? How do you watch the years pass in your own body without something to tether it to?

Meloncholy Nights in a Tokyo Cyber Cafe seemed like a regression in the line of the story but also maybe symbolic of peoples complacency, and a striving to “ return to normalcy” in the face of the world literally ending. Not unlike how we treated Covid, which made it very uncomfortable social commentary.

I did think it was a weird choice for that story to be in third person and I’m still working through the symbols there, but it felt odd and took me out of the story.

Then, also, Akira’s naivety and the sheer amount of ego it takes to think that you can convince someone not to end their life because you’re suddenly in love with them is baffling. He met this woman in Su**ide pact virtual arena and is surprised that she actually wants to unalive herself and not stick around for a romance that was one-sided.

The story dragged for a while near the middle.

Claire was an alien/space being/deity(?) the whole time?! That makes a lot of sense as to why she was so distant and so focused on saving the planet. There was also an element of guilt there that we didn’t know about. That’s a really cool twist.

——

Again, now that I know the ending, Clara’s behavior is so clear. I guess that was foreshadowing. I liked being surprised by the ending but I also think the story would have been so much better to follow Clara as the thread of each story and understand her motivation more.

I could have read an entire book alone about the red planet with the killer insects and I think that would’ve been a really cool story. I think all the stories are sort of interesting, but that honestly, Nagamatsu was just doing too much with this whole thing.

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