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Linghun
«Este pueblo venera a los muertos, pero no respeta a los vivos».
Wenqi y sus padres acaban de mudarse a HOGAR, un pueblo donde la gente ha renunciado a sus amistades, sus lazos familiares y sus aspiraciones personales, a fin de obtener algo impensable en cualquier otro lugar: contactar con sus seres queridos fallecidos, a los que se niegan a dejar marchar.
Linghun es una intensa obra cargada de profundidad y humanidad, donde Ai Jiang trata temas como los lazos familiares, la pérdida, la no aceptación de la muerte, el dolor, la nostalgia, la comunicación y la inmigración.
Wenqi y sus padres acaban de mudarse a HOGAR, un pueblo donde la gente ha renunciado a sus amistades, sus lazos familiares y sus aspiraciones personales, a fin de obtener algo impensable en cualquier otro lugar: contactar con sus seres queridos fallecidos, a los que se niegan a dejar marchar.
Linghun es una intensa obra cargada de profundidad y humanidad, donde Ai Jiang trata temas como los lazos familiares, la pérdida, la no aceptación de la muerte, el dolor, la nostalgia, la comunicación y la inmigración.
214 pages, Paperback
First published April 4, 2023
89 people are currently reading
9654 people want to read
About the author
Ai Jiang
102 books421 followersAi Jiang is a Chinese-Canadian writer, Ignyte, Nebula, Bram Stoker Award winner, Hugo, Astounding, Locus, Aurora, and BFSA Award finalist, and an immigrant from Changle, Fujian currently residing in Toronto, Ontario. Her work can be found in F&SF, The Dark, The Masters Review, among others. She is the recipient of Odyssey Workshop's 2022 Fresh Voices Scholarship.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 701 reviews
April 30, 2025
I'm not generally a horror reader, but it's Halloween month, and 'tis the season and all that. While my API reads lean contemporary, speculative, and romance, Zana generally picks up fantasy and horror. This is the latter.
I recently befriended the author on Instagram, and thought I'd give this a shot. I'm not sorry I did. If you liked SAHA, which was hit or miss by the reviews you all left, and even if you didn't, I'd say give this a try.
This has all the makings of a dystopian horror. There are ghosts, a creepy neighborhood, and Chinese culture and diaspora. I connected with so much of this, even if I don't believe in ghosts. That's not the important part here.
The important part is family, relationships, and how these things transcend life. What makes death more important than life? Why do East and Southeast Asian cultures revere the dead? What about those still living? I'm not here to give you an existential crisis. Just asking a few questions.
📱 Thank you to BookSirens and Dark Matter INK
I recently befriended the author on Instagram, and thought I'd give this a shot. I'm not sorry I did. If you liked SAHA, which was hit or miss by the reviews you all left, and even if you didn't, I'd say give this a try.
This has all the makings of a dystopian horror. There are ghosts, a creepy neighborhood, and Chinese culture and diaspora. I connected with so much of this, even if I don't believe in ghosts. That's not the important part here.
The important part is family, relationships, and how these things transcend life. What makes death more important than life? Why do East and Southeast Asian cultures revere the dead? What about those still living? I'm not here to give you an existential crisis. Just asking a few questions.
📱 Thank you to BookSirens and Dark Matter INK
May 10, 2023
Linghun by Ai Jiang (debut novel)
Affiliate Link: https://bookshop.org/a/7576/978195859...
Release Date: April 4th, 2023
General Genre: Ghost, Horror, Literary
Subgenre/Themes: Paranormal, Grief, Haunted House, family, memories, home, honoring the dead, culture, tradition,
Writing Style: Multiple POV, Character-Driven,
What You Need to Know: The concept is imagining a world called HOME where instead of ghosts haunting the living, the living…refusing to let go of the dead…are haunting the ghosts.
My Reading Experience: Linghun is always on my mind now. Once in a while, a book comes along that is strikingly different than everything around it, that book is Ai Jiang’s, Linghun. My immediate response to this book was used as a blurb,
“Linghun will forever wander like a ghost in the halls of my reader’s heart, its message of grief and loss lingers, the beauty of Ai Jiang’s prose a treasured new voice. What a haunting debut."
But a blurb is not a whole response. It’s not what I felt in its entirety. The mood…oh my god, the mood of this book. Readers, on a melancholy, rainy day, when you have hours of uninterrupted time to yourself, put your phone in another room, curl up with a warm blanket and give this story your entire heart.
Wenqi lives with her parents in the wake of her brother’s death. Her struggle reminds me a bit of Gordy’s in Stephen King’s novella, The Body. Something tragic has happened to the family’s “golden child” and the sibling is left in the shadow of a ghost who will always be perfect, untouchable, and great in the eyes of the parents hurting and grieving. Such a tough position.
Wenqi’s parents decide to move to a place called HOME, where the living move into what they hope will be a haunted house.
At school, her HOME class goes over the rules:
“Interacting with the ghosts as much as possible will keep their presence in our lives strong.” The students say.
“And?”
“If we desire to move on, we must first cut ties.”
This book crushed me. The sadness, the idea of losing a child, the desperation parents feel to stay connected to the child they lost. It’s honestly so much.
I can’t even imagine, I mean, I can. But I don’t want to.
I read this book in animation. The movie in my mind was animated. And it was the BEST. I can only hope for an animated movie someday.
The succinct chapters are narrated by different characters keeping the story fresh and buoyant as it shifts and moves with different perspectives. Their individual personalities come through in their voice and different motivations regarding their circumstances. Honestly, I wish more authors utilized this technique. The story never lags or suffers a dull moment and it showed me that Jiang knows her way around the world she has created, the characters she has living in it, and the mechanics of the plot. How it all works together. Which lately, I have come to appreciate.
Final Recommendation: If this emotionally-charged, imaginative, beautifully written debut novel is any indication of what we can come to expect from Ai Jiang, we will all do well to keep our eye on her and stand in line for it all. One of the best books I will read this year and it's only April (2023)!
Comps: The Perfectly Fine House by Stephen Kozeniewski and Wile E. Young, Disappearance at Devil’s Rock by Paul Tremblay, Crossroads by Laurel Hightower
Affiliate Link: https://bookshop.org/a/7576/978195859...
Release Date: April 4th, 2023
General Genre: Ghost, Horror, Literary
Subgenre/Themes: Paranormal, Grief, Haunted House, family, memories, home, honoring the dead, culture, tradition,
Writing Style: Multiple POV, Character-Driven,
What You Need to Know: The concept is imagining a world called HOME where instead of ghosts haunting the living, the living…refusing to let go of the dead…are haunting the ghosts.
My Reading Experience: Linghun is always on my mind now. Once in a while, a book comes along that is strikingly different than everything around it, that book is Ai Jiang’s, Linghun. My immediate response to this book was used as a blurb,
“Linghun will forever wander like a ghost in the halls of my reader’s heart, its message of grief and loss lingers, the beauty of Ai Jiang’s prose a treasured new voice. What a haunting debut."
But a blurb is not a whole response. It’s not what I felt in its entirety. The mood…oh my god, the mood of this book. Readers, on a melancholy, rainy day, when you have hours of uninterrupted time to yourself, put your phone in another room, curl up with a warm blanket and give this story your entire heart.
Wenqi lives with her parents in the wake of her brother’s death. Her struggle reminds me a bit of Gordy’s in Stephen King’s novella, The Body. Something tragic has happened to the family’s “golden child” and the sibling is left in the shadow of a ghost who will always be perfect, untouchable, and great in the eyes of the parents hurting and grieving. Such a tough position.
Wenqi’s parents decide to move to a place called HOME, where the living move into what they hope will be a haunted house.
At school, her HOME class goes over the rules:
“Interacting with the ghosts as much as possible will keep their presence in our lives strong.” The students say.
“And?”
“If we desire to move on, we must first cut ties.”
This book crushed me. The sadness, the idea of losing a child, the desperation parents feel to stay connected to the child they lost. It’s honestly so much.
I can’t even imagine, I mean, I can. But I don’t want to.
I read this book in animation. The movie in my mind was animated. And it was the BEST. I can only hope for an animated movie someday.
The succinct chapters are narrated by different characters keeping the story fresh and buoyant as it shifts and moves with different perspectives. Their individual personalities come through in their voice and different motivations regarding their circumstances. Honestly, I wish more authors utilized this technique. The story never lags or suffers a dull moment and it showed me that Jiang knows her way around the world she has created, the characters she has living in it, and the mechanics of the plot. How it all works together. Which lately, I have come to appreciate.
Final Recommendation: If this emotionally-charged, imaginative, beautifully written debut novel is any indication of what we can come to expect from Ai Jiang, we will all do well to keep our eye on her and stand in line for it all. One of the best books I will read this year and it's only April (2023)!
Comps: The Perfectly Fine House by Stephen Kozeniewski and Wile E. Young, Disappearance at Devil’s Rock by Paul Tremblay, Crossroads by Laurel Hightower
November 28, 2023
In a Nutshell: An evocative literary novella, focussed on the living who can’t let the dead go. Allegorical, insightful, melancholic. A mood read, but what a treat if it comes to you at the right time!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Story Synopsis:
Bookish Yays:
👻 The characters, both main and secondary, are compelling in their own ways, even though it is tough to connect with many of them because of how they are handling their grief. Wenqi’s and Liam’s frustration is easy to empathise with.
👻 I loved the atmosphere created by the author’s words. Though HOME is just a fictitious town and the premise is also exaggerated, the book still feels rooted in reality because the dominant emotions are human, not humane – just as in real life.
👻 There is a thread of melancholia underlying the entire novella, but in some scenes, the emotional tangent turns towards a psychological horror, with a detailed glimpse at the depravity of human beings. In this sense, the book was reminiscent of Shirley Jackson’s 'The Lottery', because both have scenes that induce a feeling of helplessness at the impending doom.
👻 I loved the stylistic choice of writing the plot perspectives in distinct voices. We have three characters’ points of view in the novel. Wenqi’s pov is written in the first person, “Mrs.” written in the second person, and Liam in the third person. Not only does this make each of them sound distinct, but it also makes the reading experience a fun challenge. I love all three voices equally. Also appreciate how one of the minor characters was written with the they/them pronouns without any hoohah made about them or their sexuality or gender orientation.
👻 The primary theme of the novella is grief and its varying impact on people. The book also highlights the Chinese obsession with male children, with daughters being more of an afterthought only once the son’s needs are met. It also touches upon gaslighting. Through the concept of residents and lingerers, the book also sheds light on the situational differences between the haves and the have-nots. All the themes are handled well.
👻 The significance of the title comes out only later on the book, so I won’t go into spoilers. I’ll just say that it suits the book in various ways.
👻 There are some brilliant, thought-provoking quotes – quite a few for such a short novella.
👻 This edition also contains bonus content in the form of an essay by the author and two short stories titled “Yǒngshí” and “Teeter Totter.” Liked the first one, enjoyed the second one.
👻 The foreword offers an insightful introduction to the author, to East Asian literature and to this book in particular. [Do note that it contains spoilers about the theme, so if you like to be surprised, read the foreword AFTER you complete the book.]
Bookish Nays:
☠ I didn’t like the final chapters. They felt too rushed, and some of the content felt like it was forcefully pushed in. Until I reached these chapters, I was perched comfortably on the 4.5 star mark.
☠ Possibly because of its short length, the story leaves a few unanswered questions. I’d have loved to know more personal details about Wenqi and Liam, but the part that bugged me the most was the outdated school curriculum without any sensible reason for the same.
All in all, as my feedback skew clearly shows, I enjoyed this indie novella. I read the whole story in one sitting and found it gripping from start till almost-the-end.
Definitely recommended to readers of dark literary fiction that goes into psychological horror. Nothing paranormal but there are a couple of alarming scenes.
4.25 stars.
My thanks to author Ai Jiang and BookSirens for the DRC of “Linghun”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Connect with me through:
My Blog | The StoryGraph | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Story Synopsis:
HOME, a mysterious town somewhere in Canada, is known for its special houses where the spirits of the dead can be summoned to the residences of their loved ones, who are desperate to have them back in their lives.
Wenqi is a new resident in this strange place, having moved into a house with her parents, who long to meet their dead son.
Liam is a “lingerer”, one of those persons who wait for a house in much-in-demand HOME to become vacant so that they can move in somehow and meet their departed loved one.
“Mrs.” is a resident of a house near Wenqi’s. No one knows her name, or any other personal details.
Through these three characters, we get a glimpse of HOME and its grief-stricken residents.
Bookish Yays:
👻 The characters, both main and secondary, are compelling in their own ways, even though it is tough to connect with many of them because of how they are handling their grief. Wenqi’s and Liam’s frustration is easy to empathise with.
👻 I loved the atmosphere created by the author’s words. Though HOME is just a fictitious town and the premise is also exaggerated, the book still feels rooted in reality because the dominant emotions are human, not humane – just as in real life.
👻 There is a thread of melancholia underlying the entire novella, but in some scenes, the emotional tangent turns towards a psychological horror, with a detailed glimpse at the depravity of human beings. In this sense, the book was reminiscent of Shirley Jackson’s 'The Lottery', because both have scenes that induce a feeling of helplessness at the impending doom.
👻 I loved the stylistic choice of writing the plot perspectives in distinct voices. We have three characters’ points of view in the novel. Wenqi’s pov is written in the first person, “Mrs.” written in the second person, and Liam in the third person. Not only does this make each of them sound distinct, but it also makes the reading experience a fun challenge. I love all three voices equally. Also appreciate how one of the minor characters was written with the they/them pronouns without any hoohah made about them or their sexuality or gender orientation.
👻 The primary theme of the novella is grief and its varying impact on people. The book also highlights the Chinese obsession with male children, with daughters being more of an afterthought only once the son’s needs are met. It also touches upon gaslighting. Through the concept of residents and lingerers, the book also sheds light on the situational differences between the haves and the have-nots. All the themes are handled well.
👻 The significance of the title comes out only later on the book, so I won’t go into spoilers. I’ll just say that it suits the book in various ways.
👻 There are some brilliant, thought-provoking quotes – quite a few for such a short novella.
👻 This edition also contains bonus content in the form of an essay by the author and two short stories titled “Yǒngshí” and “Teeter Totter.” Liked the first one, enjoyed the second one.
👻 The foreword offers an insightful introduction to the author, to East Asian literature and to this book in particular. [Do note that it contains spoilers about the theme, so if you like to be surprised, read the foreword AFTER you complete the book.]
Bookish Nays:
☠ I didn’t like the final chapters. They felt too rushed, and some of the content felt like it was forcefully pushed in. Until I reached these chapters, I was perched comfortably on the 4.5 star mark.
☠ Possibly because of its short length, the story leaves a few unanswered questions. I’d have loved to know more personal details about Wenqi and Liam, but the part that bugged me the most was the outdated school curriculum without any sensible reason for the same.
All in all, as my feedback skew clearly shows, I enjoyed this indie novella. I read the whole story in one sitting and found it gripping from start till almost-the-end.
Definitely recommended to readers of dark literary fiction that goes into psychological horror. Nothing paranormal but there are a couple of alarming scenes.
4.25 stars.
My thanks to author Ai Jiang and BookSirens for the DRC of “Linghun”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Connect with me through:
My Blog | The StoryGraph | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter
June 30, 2024
This story brought back a lot of trauma and grief, vividly portraying the experience of losing someone dear. Additionally, the trauma of Wenqi's mom constantly choosing her brother over her filled me with immense rage. The poignant commentary on the damage unresolved grief can inflict on families, combined with the emotional turmoil of Wenqi's familial dynamics, made this novella a thought-provoking and deeply moving read.
So yeah....thanks for that.
Sincerely from an eldest daughter of an asian family :)
So yeah....thanks for that.
Sincerely from an eldest daughter of an asian family :)
May 28, 2023
This is so well written and so thoroughly interesting.
I'm on a vacation and don't have much time, but I took notes and will write down my thoughts as soon as I can.
___________________________________________________________
Edit - 28.05.2023, here's my full review 🖤
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.
Sometimes, when reading a book which is so substantial, the weight of its topic so heavy that in order to convey that graveness, my mind blends everything else out, and all I can imagine is a white background, very much like when Neo and Morpheus meet in the White Room in the Matrix, and I can only see characters in front of my mind’s eye, and their state of mind. This happened to me while reading Linghun, the story of three people, the girl Wenqi, her friend Liam and a separate person named Mrs., whose lives will intersect in a place called HOME.
The interesting thing is that this book is very much about a place. HOME is a place you move in when you mourn, you grief for someone and here you have the opportunity to live with them, albeit in seemingly different spheres of reality. It is not very easy to receive a place here, so there are lingerers which camp in front and around the houses, waiting for their chance to move in. Thus, the atmosphere is marked, drenched by grief - it is in the air, in people’s heads, in their hearts and the lengths to which they will go to keep it, to hold on to their lost ones is so much significant, that everything else faded out and it was hard for me to imagine anything else than that feeling. Not even a setting.
I enjoyed the meandering points of view and identities, how the lives of our three characters meet in almost ironic, but always sad and melancholy ways.
A Ramble on Di Fu Ling&Death
When we think about grief and spirits, we mostly think about people and the dead. But I think grief can be tied not only people but to places, memories, cultures, languages, and identity.
The novella Linghun is followed by shorter pieces of writing, almost like little footnotes, afterthoughts on grief and death as well as how we who live react to and deal with them.
Di Fu Ling are earthbound spirits, ghosts who cannot go. The reflections in this one hit close to home.
Yǒngshí
Plotwise, I liked this most. It is the story of the deadly ill Yǒngshí who asks for more time for herself to live so she can work and pay for her mother’s grave, told by an interesting point of view.
Finally, Teeter Totter in which Xixi, a witch with no child, and her relation to Death is being told.
These little writings are light to read, but they will make you think, make you sad, touch you in memorable ways.
I'm on a vacation and don't have much time, but I took notes and will write down my thoughts as soon as I can.
___________________________________________________________
Edit - 28.05.2023, here's my full review 🖤
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.
Sometimes, when reading a book which is so substantial, the weight of its topic so heavy that in order to convey that graveness, my mind blends everything else out, and all I can imagine is a white background, very much like when Neo and Morpheus meet in the White Room in the Matrix, and I can only see characters in front of my mind’s eye, and their state of mind. This happened to me while reading Linghun, the story of three people, the girl Wenqi, her friend Liam and a separate person named Mrs., whose lives will intersect in a place called HOME.
The interesting thing is that this book is very much about a place. HOME is a place you move in when you mourn, you grief for someone and here you have the opportunity to live with them, albeit in seemingly different spheres of reality. It is not very easy to receive a place here, so there are lingerers which camp in front and around the houses, waiting for their chance to move in. Thus, the atmosphere is marked, drenched by grief - it is in the air, in people’s heads, in their hearts and the lengths to which they will go to keep it, to hold on to their lost ones is so much significant, that everything else faded out and it was hard for me to imagine anything else than that feeling. Not even a setting.
I enjoyed the meandering points of view and identities, how the lives of our three characters meet in almost ironic, but always sad and melancholy ways.
A Ramble on Di Fu Ling&Death
When we think about grief and spirits, we mostly think about people and the dead. But I think grief can be tied not only people but to places, memories, cultures, languages, and identity.
The novella Linghun is followed by shorter pieces of writing, almost like little footnotes, afterthoughts on grief and death as well as how we who live react to and deal with them.
Di Fu Ling are earthbound spirits, ghosts who cannot go. The reflections in this one hit close to home.
Yǒngshí
Plotwise, I liked this most. It is the story of the deadly ill Yǒngshí who asks for more time for herself to live so she can work and pay for her mother’s grave, told by an interesting point of view.
Finally, Teeter Totter in which Xixi, a witch with no child, and her relation to Death is being told.
These little writings are light to read, but they will make you think, make you sad, touch you in memorable ways.
July 3, 2024
“Feelings, emotions, experiences, are all part of humanity's shared language, and in Linghun, that shared language is grief. Grief is a language that tears us apart, but it is also what brings us together. Remember, you are never alone.”
there’s something so interesting about grief horror and the way these authors use the “unnatural” to convey emotions so relatable to the human experience. the sense of melancholy was strong in this one but i just didn’t really connect to the story like i feel i was supposed to, so in the end it didn’t do much for me.
there’s something so interesting about grief horror and the way these authors use the “unnatural” to convey emotions so relatable to the human experience. the sense of melancholy was strong in this one but i just didn’t really connect to the story like i feel i was supposed to, so in the end it didn’t do much for me.
July 25, 2024
Stunning.
The writing was beautiful in the way that things which are intentionally simplified are. The characters were compelling but felt real. The horror is quiet and the weirdness perfectly conveyed. The pacing was great.
Gothic horror isn't my thing but Jiang managed to make it work for me.
The version of the book I got came with extra material which was also really good (I got a digital copy from Dark Matter INK's site I don't know if copies from elsewhere are the same).
I missed having a reading list that I didn't make for myself, so I decided to put Goodreads' recommendation algorithm to the test by reading 60 books from the recommendation tab, mostly from the horror genre and from the recs based on my "TikTok made me read it" shelf (I needed a few wild cards). This book was 4/60 from that list and it was my first time reading this author but I'm quite excited to see that she is a contributor in the Obsolescence: A Dark Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Horror Anthology which is also on the list for this little experiment. So far the algorithm gets a passing grade.
The writing was beautiful in the way that things which are intentionally simplified are. The characters were compelling but felt real. The horror is quiet and the weirdness perfectly conveyed. The pacing was great.
Gothic horror isn't my thing but Jiang managed to make it work for me.
The version of the book I got came with extra material which was also really good (I got a digital copy from Dark Matter INK's site I don't know if copies from elsewhere are the same).
I missed having a reading list that I didn't make for myself, so I decided to put Goodreads' recommendation algorithm to the test by reading 60 books from the recommendation tab, mostly from the horror genre and from the recs based on my "TikTok made me read it" shelf (I needed a few wild cards). This book was 4/60 from that list and it was my first time reading this author but I'm quite excited to see that she is a contributor in the Obsolescence: A Dark Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Horror Anthology which is also on the list for this little experiment. So far the algorithm gets a passing grade.
January 17, 2025
I had read reviews first and knew there would be a chance I wasn't going to like the book, and unfortunately, that's how it turned out to be. However, given how short it was, I thought I would finish it anyway. I even stuck around for the interview with the author at the end. But halfway through it, when I only had a few pages left, I lost my will to care even just a little bit. Next time, I have to remember that even a short book doesn't have to be finished if it sucks the life out of me. After all, I could've used that time to do the dishes or something more productive and meaningful to my life.
January 15, 2024
2 stars
short review for busy readers: a hollow, bloodless novella about grief and how people refuse to let the dead go. If you love SE Asian literature, you'll probably like this one because, despite the fact the author is Canadian (of Chinese decent), the story is VERY Asian in style and structure. I could see it being a manga.
In detail:
I'm really not the audience for this novella, as it very deftly combines two types of literature I really don't get along with well. I'll explain.
The first one is SE Asian writing, which for me is often too simplistic in style and word choice and deliberately vague on characterisation and character motivation to be enjoyable.
The other is old school YA, which when I was a teenager almost turned me into a non-reader because, at that time, books for teens were always about emotionally gruelling topics done in somber or sensationalistic ways.
Sample plots included:
Your best friend gets leukemia and dies. The neighbour girl is violently raped. Your parents lose their jobs and now you're homeless. Your older brother commits suicide. Your drunk of a father beats you and your mom nightly. Your sister is murdered on her way to piano lessons. Your friend dies of a drug OD.
It all bleak, tragic, painful, hopeless and with no means of escape or relief. But apparently - or so I was told at the time when I questioned it - that's what teens *want* to read about, otherwise they'll think adults are treating them like babies.
Unfortunately, Linghun is exactly that type of teen story from the '70s and '80s.
Please, no. I don't want to go back there.
(Only decades later did I read that China had banned the translation of most American YA into Chinese for exactly those reasons. Too violent, bleak, tragic, and hopeless.)
This novella might really resonate with some, and that's great. But it's too old school teen emo depressive and, IMHO, not more than averagely written. 2 stars.
short review for busy readers: a hollow, bloodless novella about grief and how people refuse to let the dead go. If you love SE Asian literature, you'll probably like this one because, despite the fact the author is Canadian (of Chinese decent), the story is VERY Asian in style and structure. I could see it being a manga.
In detail:
I'm really not the audience for this novella, as it very deftly combines two types of literature I really don't get along with well. I'll explain.
The first one is SE Asian writing, which for me is often too simplistic in style and word choice and deliberately vague on characterisation and character motivation to be enjoyable.
The other is old school YA, which when I was a teenager almost turned me into a non-reader because, at that time, books for teens were always about emotionally gruelling topics done in somber or sensationalistic ways.
Sample plots included:
Your best friend gets leukemia and dies. The neighbour girl is violently raped. Your parents lose their jobs and now you're homeless. Your older brother commits suicide. Your drunk of a father beats you and your mom nightly. Your sister is murdered on her way to piano lessons. Your friend dies of a drug OD.
It all bleak, tragic, painful, hopeless and with no means of escape or relief. But apparently - or so I was told at the time when I questioned it - that's what teens *want* to read about, otherwise they'll think adults are treating them like babies.
Unfortunately, Linghun is exactly that type of teen story from the '70s and '80s.
Please, no. I don't want to go back there.
(Only decades later did I read that China had banned the translation of most American YA into Chinese for exactly those reasons. Too violent, bleak, tragic, and hopeless.)
This novella might really resonate with some, and that's great. But it's too old school teen emo depressive and, IMHO, not more than averagely written. 2 stars.
April 29, 2023
"Interacting with the ghosts as much as possible will keep their presence in our lives strong."
Ai Jiang conjures a strange story of a haunted town where real estate is at a premium. Here it's location, location, location, and a chance to commune with deceased loved ones. That's right, folks, if you can get a house, you could be reunited with your dead spouse or child. But, to get one of these coveted pieces of property, you may need to pay with more than money.
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.
Since my teenage years, I've read a lot of horror. I can't say I'm immune to being terrified (perhaps numbed a bit . . . ), but I've never hesitated to read a scary tale right before bed . . . until I met this one. My dreams were filled with shadowy, indistinct, somewhat threatening figures.
It's an imaginative, unsettling, creepy read.
Ai Jiang conjures a strange story of a haunted town where real estate is at a premium. Here it's location, location, location, and a chance to commune with deceased loved ones. That's right, folks, if you can get a house, you could be reunited with your dead spouse or child. But, to get one of these coveted pieces of property, you may need to pay with more than money.
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.
Since my teenage years, I've read a lot of horror. I can't say I'm immune to being terrified (perhaps numbed a bit . . . ), but I've never hesitated to read a scary tale right before bed . . . until I met this one. My dreams were filled with shadowy, indistinct, somewhat threatening figures.
It's an imaginative, unsettling, creepy read.
December 10, 2023
This was very thoughtful and literary. I'm not sure I really "got" it, but it was an interesting read. I liked the main character although was not so fond of her relationship with Liam. I didn't realize until fairly late in the story that the kids were meant to be late teens; they read younger than that to me.
Anyway, very novel. It's always an interesting change of mindset to read about people who care about things I don't care about or react to them very differently. (Eg I am not at all a "brood stagnantly over the dead" type; I grieve while doing other things actively, grief like a shadow walking next to me, not a pool I drown in.)
Anyway, very novel. It's always an interesting change of mindset to read about people who care about things I don't care about or react to them very differently. (Eg I am not at all a "brood stagnantly over the dead" type; I grieve while doing other things actively, grief like a shadow walking next to me, not a pool I drown in.)
March 29, 2023
Wow. This has quite literally left me speechless. I’m in awe of Ai Jiang’s incredible story telling in LINGHUN. A melancholy read of despair, grief and longing. The story itself quite imaginative and unique.
A neighbourhood where the homes are haunted but of the ghosts you wish to summon. Families who have lost someone wait to buy these homes to seek closeness and connection with the love one they lost but all is not as it seems. This read was all consuming, with incredible prose. This very well might be an all-time favourite for me.
A neighbourhood where the homes are haunted but of the ghosts you wish to summon. Families who have lost someone wait to buy these homes to seek closeness and connection with the love one they lost but all is not as it seems. This read was all consuming, with incredible prose. This very well might be an all-time favourite for me.
April 6, 2023
When one of my favourite horror writers (Kealan Patrick Burke) called Linghun the best book he had read this year so far, I knew I instantly had to add it to my library and read it as soon as possible.
His quote about the story perfectly sums it up; ”A devastating parable of loss, Ai Jiang’s Linghun is a meditation on grief, how it changes us, makes ghosts of the living, and keeps us trapped in prisons of mourning. It’s a testament to Jiang’s ferocity as a lyricist of sorrow and heartbreak that I read this book in one sitting and expect it will haunt me for a very long time to come. Truly remarkable.”
This succinctly explains the entire experience of reading Linghun - a life-changing story about death.
If you want to read something hauntingly gothic - then this is the book for you.
A new favourite. 5 stars!
TW:// abuse, death/child death, graphic imagery (one huge gory moment in particular!), some racism, trauma.
His quote about the story perfectly sums it up; ”A devastating parable of loss, Ai Jiang’s Linghun is a meditation on grief, how it changes us, makes ghosts of the living, and keeps us trapped in prisons of mourning. It’s a testament to Jiang’s ferocity as a lyricist of sorrow and heartbreak that I read this book in one sitting and expect it will haunt me for a very long time to come. Truly remarkable.”
This succinctly explains the entire experience of reading Linghun - a life-changing story about death.
If you want to read something hauntingly gothic - then this is the book for you.
A new favourite. 5 stars!
TW:// abuse, death/child death, graphic imagery (one huge gory moment in particular!), some racism, trauma.
February 6, 2024
"This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living."
Ai Jiang has hit a home run with Linghun, a beautiful portrait of mourning and death defiance that'll stay with a reader long after it's done, much like the departed within. It's a perfect addition to the ranks of the surge in grief horror in recent years, as we all cope with sickness, war, loss, and high-stakes competitions for housing.
High-schooler Wenqi is one of the three POV characters in the main story, a great lens through which to examine mourning, entwined with strained parental relationships and the angst of the teenager years. She and her parents move to the strange town of Home, where the dead can and do return, in one form or another, but only within the houses there. The primal desperation this encourages among the residents of Home forms a savvy parallel to the brutal housing market of today in North America, one with high costs beyond the financial.
I didn't realize there are other stories in here as well, some haunting tales infused with Chinese folklore and afterlife mythos that read as almost fables to me, charming and sad in equal measure.
Nancy Wu was a stellar narrator for the audiobook performance, and Dark Matter Ink clearly invested in this production, even including sound effects that perfectly channeled the story.
Five full stars.
Ai Jiang has hit a home run with Linghun, a beautiful portrait of mourning and death defiance that'll stay with a reader long after it's done, much like the departed within. It's a perfect addition to the ranks of the surge in grief horror in recent years, as we all cope with sickness, war, loss, and high-stakes competitions for housing.
High-schooler Wenqi is one of the three POV characters in the main story, a great lens through which to examine mourning, entwined with strained parental relationships and the angst of the teenager years. She and her parents move to the strange town of Home, where the dead can and do return, in one form or another, but only within the houses there. The primal desperation this encourages among the residents of Home forms a savvy parallel to the brutal housing market of today in North America, one with high costs beyond the financial.
I didn't realize there are other stories in here as well, some haunting tales infused with Chinese folklore and afterlife mythos that read as almost fables to me, charming and sad in equal measure.
Nancy Wu was a stellar narrator for the audiobook performance, and Dark Matter Ink clearly invested in this production, even including sound effects that perfectly channeled the story.
Five full stars.
December 15, 2023
What would you do to spend more time with a loved one who has passed?
What would you sacrifice? How far would you go?
Ai Jiang's Linghun ("soul" in Chinese) poses these questions.
The novella is set in (presumably) Ontario, Canada, in a neighborhood known as HOME--Homecoming of Missing Entities. HOME is a unique community--for some reason HOME's residents can summon deceased loved ones, eking out a few more hours or days together. And people pay dearly for this privilege.
As one character muses:
There is only one reason anyone would trek through the guarding trees to get to HOME: not to seek new life, but to satisfy a longing for the dead.
Houses in HOME sate the unending hunger of those most vulnerable, unsuspecting. They feed on our desires, our pain. So much pain. And to wallow in such pain... It is a hideous thing.
Isn't it strange? How everyone here desires for their homes to be haunted?
There are two categories of people living in HOME - residents, who live in the houses, and lingerers who camp out on the lawns, waiting for the opportunity to bid on a house. Both categories are desperate to reunite with a loved one in the spirit world, uprooting their entire lives and spending all of their savings on this opportunity. So highly prized, it's not uncommon for home auctions to end in bloodshed.
Three narrators guide the reader through HOME--Wenqi (1st person pov, new HOME resident), "Mrs." (2nd-person pov, longtime HOME resident) and Liam (3rd person pov, lingerer). Their perspectives offer a multifaceted look into the community, and what it's like to live in HOME.
Linghun is also a metaphor for immigration and the immigrant experience. The novella explores themes such as grief, loss, isolation, belonging, attachment, and stagnation--things shared by both immigrants and those mourning lost loved ones. Ai Jiang writes:
With this novella, I wanted to mourn the dead, the living, the mother tongue that has become my second language, the village that no longer exists in Shangu, and my birthplace in Changle that has become a familiar stranger.
A sad and strange book, no one can deny that in Linghun Ai Jiang offers a unique interpretation of the haunted house trope.
Tags:
-speculative fiction
-ghosts
-haunted house
-death
-immigration
-grief
Thank you to BookSirens and Ai Jiang for providing a free advanced review copy of this book. All opinions expressed are my own.
What would you sacrifice? How far would you go?
Ai Jiang's Linghun ("soul" in Chinese) poses these questions.
The novella is set in (presumably) Ontario, Canada, in a neighborhood known as HOME--Homecoming of Missing Entities. HOME is a unique community--for some reason HOME's residents can summon deceased loved ones, eking out a few more hours or days together. And people pay dearly for this privilege.
As one character muses:
There is only one reason anyone would trek through the guarding trees to get to HOME: not to seek new life, but to satisfy a longing for the dead.
Houses in HOME sate the unending hunger of those most vulnerable, unsuspecting. They feed on our desires, our pain. So much pain. And to wallow in such pain... It is a hideous thing.
Isn't it strange? How everyone here desires for their homes to be haunted?
There are two categories of people living in HOME - residents, who live in the houses, and lingerers who camp out on the lawns, waiting for the opportunity to bid on a house. Both categories are desperate to reunite with a loved one in the spirit world, uprooting their entire lives and spending all of their savings on this opportunity. So highly prized, it's not uncommon for home auctions to end in bloodshed.
Three narrators guide the reader through HOME--Wenqi (1st person pov, new HOME resident), "Mrs." (2nd-person pov, longtime HOME resident) and Liam (3rd person pov, lingerer). Their perspectives offer a multifaceted look into the community, and what it's like to live in HOME.
Linghun is also a metaphor for immigration and the immigrant experience. The novella explores themes such as grief, loss, isolation, belonging, attachment, and stagnation--things shared by both immigrants and those mourning lost loved ones. Ai Jiang writes:
With this novella, I wanted to mourn the dead, the living, the mother tongue that has become my second language, the village that no longer exists in Shangu, and my birthplace in Changle that has become a familiar stranger.
A sad and strange book, no one can deny that in Linghun Ai Jiang offers a unique interpretation of the haunted house trope.
Tags:
-speculative fiction
-ghosts
-haunted house
-death
-immigration
-grief
Thank you to BookSirens and Ai Jiang for providing a free advanced review copy of this book. All opinions expressed are my own.
December 1, 2024
"Isn’t it strange? How everyone here desires their homes to be haunted?
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living." 🏚️💀👻
👻
💭 A haunting, melancholic story . This is not a normal ghost or haunted house story . It's a haunted-town story, with people desperate to be in touch with the dead. It is a mix of grief horror, tragic romance, generational trauma, isolation, and even pure identity crisis.
'interacting with the ghosts as much as possible will keep their presence in our lives strong,'
The lengths some people would go to stay connected and keep their lost loved ones in their lives - even if it means harming the relationships they have with the living.
4.45✨👻
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living." 🏚️💀👻
👻
💭 A haunting, melancholic story . This is not a normal ghost or haunted house story . It's a haunted-town story, with people desperate to be in touch with the dead. It is a mix of grief horror, tragic romance, generational trauma, isolation, and even pure identity crisis.
'interacting with the ghosts as much as possible will keep their presence in our lives strong,'
The lengths some people would go to stay connected and keep their lost loved ones in their lives - even if it means harming the relationships they have with the living.
4.45✨👻
July 30, 2023
A beautiful story filled with melancholy and grief.
In the town of Home, where the dead visit the living, Wenqui lives with her parents who grieve her brother's death and cannot let go of his ghost.
This book deals with some incredibly difficult subjects - the loss of a child, dysfunctional families, loneliness and grief. And yet, despite all this darkness, it is beautifully written and so poignant it will stay with you for a long time.
In the town of Home, where the dead visit the living, Wenqui lives with her parents who grieve her brother's death and cannot let go of his ghost.
This book deals with some incredibly difficult subjects - the loss of a child, dysfunctional families, loneliness and grief. And yet, despite all this darkness, it is beautifully written and so poignant it will stay with you for a long time.
May 11, 2023
“This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.”
Easily 5 stars! LINGHUN is about how deep and how far the roots of grief for the lost can spread amongst the living. Author Ai Jiang created a unique modern-gothic story where people hope to move into houses haunted by their loved ones. These houses, located in the fictional town of HOME, are in high-demand. So much so that grief-stricken "lingerers" will camp on the front lawns of these residences in the hopes that the current dwellers will eventually move out.
Our protagonist Wenqi has been lucky enough to move into a haunted house with her parents after the loss of her older brother. A handful of characters within the story, including Wenqi herself, suffer from emotional neglect as their families are focused heavily—one might even say obsessively— on holding on to their lost loved ones by any means necessary. Sometimes those means take desperate, violent turns.
This book was heavy for me, and will be the same for anyone who's experienced grief and the struggles of letting go. But it’s also beautifully written. Please give this a read if you're looking for unconventional haunted house narratives that tackle death, loss, and whether a house is still a home when our loved ones are gone--physically and emotionally.
Easily 5 stars! LINGHUN is about how deep and how far the roots of grief for the lost can spread amongst the living. Author Ai Jiang created a unique modern-gothic story where people hope to move into houses haunted by their loved ones. These houses, located in the fictional town of HOME, are in high-demand. So much so that grief-stricken "lingerers" will camp on the front lawns of these residences in the hopes that the current dwellers will eventually move out.
Our protagonist Wenqi has been lucky enough to move into a haunted house with her parents after the loss of her older brother. A handful of characters within the story, including Wenqi herself, suffer from emotional neglect as their families are focused heavily—one might even say obsessively— on holding on to their lost loved ones by any means necessary. Sometimes those means take desperate, violent turns.
This book was heavy for me, and will be the same for anyone who's experienced grief and the struggles of letting go. But it’s also beautifully written. Please give this a read if you're looking for unconventional haunted house narratives that tackle death, loss, and whether a house is still a home when our loved ones are gone--physically and emotionally.
December 31, 2023
This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.
What an incredibly thought-provoking, tragic tale.
Linghun follows a high schooler name Wenqi and her family as they move into their new house in the HOME community: Homecoming of Missing Entities. The community is known for its spiritual activity, and when a family is lucky enough to buy a place to live therein, they do so with a near-guarantee that they'll be able to summon the spirit of a lost loved one into their new residence. Wenqi's family lost her older brother when he was a child, and her parents have never recovered, so they set right to work trying to bring his spirit into their world.
The idea of a family grieving a lost child is sad enough, but Linghun also dwells upon what that grief does to the living who are left behind, especially in an instance like this, where Wenqi feels neglected to the point that she tells us upfront she fully believes her mother would trade her for her dead brother in an instant. It's heartbreaking to watch the pain that she goes through, but it's hard at times to hate her mother when you see how broken this woman is, too.
HOME is such an interesting premise and I would eagerly read more stories set in this community because I'm just so fascinated by the idea of an entire neighborhood of haunted houses, especially ones like this where being haunted is the goal everyone aspires toward and not something to fear. The writing in this story was beautiful and I can certainly see why so many of my friends raved about this novella to me. It's a piece that will certainly be sticking with me for a long time and I'm excited to read more from Ai Jiang!
✨ Representation: Wenqi and her family, as well as numerous side characters, are Chinese; one side character uses they/them pronouns
✨ Content warnings for:
———
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March 27, 2025
4,5. Existe un pequeño pueblecito donde el tiempo parece haberse frenado. En esta localidad, llamada Hogar, vive mucha gente, sin embargo, no todos tienen un casa. Los afortunados que han conseguido comprar una vivienda en este pueblo pasan los días bajo la atenta mirada de toda esa gente que se sienta en el césped de sus casas, esperando el momento en que los dueños se vayan del pueblo y dejen la casa para tratar de adquirirla. Hogar es un lugar tan especial que las personas dejan todo para mudarse, durmiendo en plena calle durante años y perdiendo todo lo que habían conseguido en la vida hasta ese momento si fuese necesario con tal de tener algún día la posibilidad de conseguir aquello que más anhelan. Y es que Hogar, es un pueblo con un extraño poder que permite a las personas que compran una de las casas de su territorio, volver a ver a un ser querido que haya muerto. En este pueblo, los muertos importan más que los vivos.
Aunque Linghun es una obra de breve extensión, consigue explorar una gran variedad de temas, teniendo como centrales la muerte y, sobre todo, el duelo por el que las personas que continúan viviendo pasan, la dificultad para aceptar que ese ser al que tanto queríamos ya no está y no volverá a estar nunca más. ¿Quién podría resistirse ante la promesa de un pueblo que te permite no despedirte de estas personas, de continuar estando con ellos durante el tiempo que desees? Sin embargo, Hogar pide un precio muy alto, y es que en este pueblo todo gira en torno a los muertos, la vida no tiene importancia. Esto provoca la tristeza de los que se ven obligados a vivir en este lugar, como es el caso de nuestra protagonista, Wenqi, obligada a mudarse junto con sus padres, los cuales desean volver a tener con ellos a su hijo, fallecido años atrás.
A través de Wenqi, la cual es dejada de lado por parte de sus padres, veremos las consecuencias de vivir en el pasado, en el recuerdo, y como al no dejar ir a lo que ya no está, dejamos de vivir. Wenqi, viva y deseando vivir, solo recibe la indiferencia de sus padres, sin embargo, su hermano muerto hace tantos años, acapara toda la atención de estos y se convierte en el sentido de sus vidas. Todo gira en torno a él, nada más importa. Creo que “Linghun” hace reflexiones muy interesantes con respecto al duelo, al apego y a la muerte y como nos enfrentamos a esta.
Me ha gustado mucho como Ai Jiang refleja la soledad de su protagonista, la incomprensión que esta siente ante el rechazo de su madre o la indiferencia de su padre, incluso ante lo que se supone que ella misma debería sentir ante un hermano al que apenas recuerda. Wenqi se siente invisible, en un mundo donde los muertos son el centro, las personas se vuelven grises, pierden incluso la habilidad para comunicarse con otras personas, en definitiva, pierden el deseo de vivir una vida propia, una vida real, y si deseas esta, eres cruel, eres egoísta.
La ambientación de la novela es espectacular, consiguiendo todo el tiempo provocar en el lector una sensación incómoda constante, ya que “Linghun” no deja de ser una novela de terror, atípica y distinta, sí, pero una novela que no deja de ponerte los pelos de punta desde la primera hasta la última página, que nos habla de muertos y casas encantadas, pero lo hace desde un lugar muy diferente al que estamos acostumbrados.
Sin lugar a dudas, mi parte favorita de la obra de Ai Jiang es como la autora describe a todas esas personas en la calle, rodeando esas casas, esperando su momento. Estas existencias vacías que solo tienen un único objetivo, hacer lo que haga falta con tal de volver a ver a ese ser querido, personas que por una parte comprendes y por otra consiguen aterrarte. Este libro tiene una escena de una subasta, de la que no voy a decir nada salvo que es una de las escenas más impactantes y potentes que he leído en mucho tiempo. Simplemente brillante. La autora también aprovecha para dar sus pinceladas de amor y hablar sobre sobre esa pérdida que sufren las personas que emigran en relación a su identidad y su cultura, como si algo de su propio yo muriera al emigrar.
Si no le pongo las 5 estrellas es porque el final, pese a haberme parecido igual de sublime y acertado que el resto de la novela, muy bien elegido para que el mensaje llegue alto y claro al lector, lo he sentido muy apresurado. “Linghun” es una novela corta, que podría haber tenido, por lo menos, unas treinta, cuarenta o cincuenta páginas más que permitieran a la historia desarrollar ese arco final y conseguir aún más ese efecto desolador que deja en el lector su conclusión, porque es tan reveladora que es imposible que no te afecte. Si no fuese por esto, sería un libro impecable.
Recomiendo mucho la lectura de “Linghun”, tanto para los que le gustan las historias de terror, de esas que incomodan más que asustan, y también para los que quieran descubrir una historia profunda y triste, con una carga reflexiva muy potente, y que respira verdad en cada una de sus palabras. Además, el libro incluye dos relatitos fantásticos que hablan sobre deidades, y que también me han gustado mucho. Como no publiquen más cositas de Ai Jiang en español pronto, pienso saltarme al inglés con las obras que tiene publicadas, porque es la segunda autora seguida que leo que activa mi alerta personal a la que titulado “posible nueva autora favorita desbloqueada”, así que no creo que pueda resistirme mucho.
Aunque Linghun es una obra de breve extensión, consigue explorar una gran variedad de temas, teniendo como centrales la muerte y, sobre todo, el duelo por el que las personas que continúan viviendo pasan, la dificultad para aceptar que ese ser al que tanto queríamos ya no está y no volverá a estar nunca más. ¿Quién podría resistirse ante la promesa de un pueblo que te permite no despedirte de estas personas, de continuar estando con ellos durante el tiempo que desees? Sin embargo, Hogar pide un precio muy alto, y es que en este pueblo todo gira en torno a los muertos, la vida no tiene importancia. Esto provoca la tristeza de los que se ven obligados a vivir en este lugar, como es el caso de nuestra protagonista, Wenqi, obligada a mudarse junto con sus padres, los cuales desean volver a tener con ellos a su hijo, fallecido años atrás.
A través de Wenqi, la cual es dejada de lado por parte de sus padres, veremos las consecuencias de vivir en el pasado, en el recuerdo, y como al no dejar ir a lo que ya no está, dejamos de vivir. Wenqi, viva y deseando vivir, solo recibe la indiferencia de sus padres, sin embargo, su hermano muerto hace tantos años, acapara toda la atención de estos y se convierte en el sentido de sus vidas. Todo gira en torno a él, nada más importa. Creo que “Linghun” hace reflexiones muy interesantes con respecto al duelo, al apego y a la muerte y como nos enfrentamos a esta.
Me ha gustado mucho como Ai Jiang refleja la soledad de su protagonista, la incomprensión que esta siente ante el rechazo de su madre o la indiferencia de su padre, incluso ante lo que se supone que ella misma debería sentir ante un hermano al que apenas recuerda. Wenqi se siente invisible, en un mundo donde los muertos son el centro, las personas se vuelven grises, pierden incluso la habilidad para comunicarse con otras personas, en definitiva, pierden el deseo de vivir una vida propia, una vida real, y si deseas esta, eres cruel, eres egoísta.
La ambientación de la novela es espectacular, consiguiendo todo el tiempo provocar en el lector una sensación incómoda constante, ya que “Linghun” no deja de ser una novela de terror, atípica y distinta, sí, pero una novela que no deja de ponerte los pelos de punta desde la primera hasta la última página, que nos habla de muertos y casas encantadas, pero lo hace desde un lugar muy diferente al que estamos acostumbrados.
Sin lugar a dudas, mi parte favorita de la obra de Ai Jiang es como la autora describe a todas esas personas en la calle, rodeando esas casas, esperando su momento. Estas existencias vacías que solo tienen un único objetivo, hacer lo que haga falta con tal de volver a ver a ese ser querido, personas que por una parte comprendes y por otra consiguen aterrarte. Este libro tiene una escena de una subasta, de la que no voy a decir nada salvo que es una de las escenas más impactantes y potentes que he leído en mucho tiempo. Simplemente brillante. La autora también aprovecha para dar sus pinceladas de amor y hablar sobre sobre esa pérdida que sufren las personas que emigran en relación a su identidad y su cultura, como si algo de su propio yo muriera al emigrar.
Si no le pongo las 5 estrellas es porque el final, pese a haberme parecido igual de sublime y acertado que el resto de la novela, muy bien elegido para que el mensaje llegue alto y claro al lector, lo he sentido muy apresurado. “Linghun” es una novela corta, que podría haber tenido, por lo menos, unas treinta, cuarenta o cincuenta páginas más que permitieran a la historia desarrollar ese arco final y conseguir aún más ese efecto desolador que deja en el lector su conclusión, porque es tan reveladora que es imposible que no te afecte. Si no fuese por esto, sería un libro impecable.
Recomiendo mucho la lectura de “Linghun”, tanto para los que le gustan las historias de terror, de esas que incomodan más que asustan, y también para los que quieran descubrir una historia profunda y triste, con una carga reflexiva muy potente, y que respira verdad en cada una de sus palabras. Además, el libro incluye dos relatitos fantásticos que hablan sobre deidades, y que también me han gustado mucho. Como no publiquen más cositas de Ai Jiang en español pronto, pienso saltarme al inglés con las obras que tiene publicadas, porque es la segunda autora seguida que leo que activa mi alerta personal a la que titulado “posible nueva autora favorita desbloqueada”, así que no creo que pueda resistirme mucho.
April 17, 2025
Linghun is a macabre exploration of grief, loss, familial ties, and barriers.
Wenqi is forced to move to the town of “Home”, where people fight tooth and nail to be able to own a house that can host the dead. Her parents are desperate for the spirit of their son to appear, ignoring their living daughter at all turns.
“This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.”
I appreciated the author’s insight at the end of the story, how immigration is a form of death, how the living are the ones not able to move foreward, how death is inevitable yet so taboo to talk about, etc.
As someone who has worked in palliative care, I’ve always been fascinated when some people want to die at home, and others are adamantly against it. In this short novel, something about the land summons the spirits back, regardless of where or when they died. I would’ve loved to know more about the history of the town, does dying in a house there affect future residents that may want to see their own spirits? It definitely had me thinking about what comes “next” once you pass, I also had to stop and reflect (as I frequently did in my job) on modern day approaches to end of life and post life.
I really felt for Wenqi and her family as they were all suffering, but did not or could not communicate with each other. I don’t think I overly enjoyed the plot or subject matter, I’m kind of leaving this book feeling depressed. The prose itself was interesting, somewhat twisted, vague, it felt like being in a half remembered dream… or nightmare.
Wenqi is forced to move to the town of “Home”, where people fight tooth and nail to be able to own a house that can host the dead. Her parents are desperate for the spirit of their son to appear, ignoring their living daughter at all turns.
“This town worships the dead, but it has no respect for the living.”
I appreciated the author’s insight at the end of the story, how immigration is a form of death, how the living are the ones not able to move foreward, how death is inevitable yet so taboo to talk about, etc.
As someone who has worked in palliative care, I’ve always been fascinated when some people want to die at home, and others are adamantly against it. In this short novel, something about the land summons the spirits back, regardless of where or when they died. I would’ve loved to know more about the history of the town, does dying in a house there affect future residents that may want to see their own spirits? It definitely had me thinking about what comes “next” once you pass, I also had to stop and reflect (as I frequently did in my job) on modern day approaches to end of life and post life.
I really felt for Wenqi and her family as they were all suffering, but did not or could not communicate with each other. I don’t think I overly enjoyed the plot or subject matter, I’m kind of leaving this book feeling depressed. The prose itself was interesting, somewhat twisted, vague, it felt like being in a half remembered dream… or nightmare.
November 2, 2022
At the final page of my ebook version of Linghun, I kept swiping and scrolling and flipping, hoping for more—needing more. I blazed through this in one night, simple and beautiful in the simplicity.
Linghun is a story of grief, yes, but about life. About what happens when those left behind by the departed are left behind by the living as well. About how you can fall through the cracks while those around you focus on the past.
As a middle child, I sympathize.
The sadness I felt for Wenqi was unparalleled by any other feeling. Her treatment by her mother, her longing to be better, her fear of failure. All these felt so real and so painful.
Like the residents of HOME, I'm going to be doing my own grieving. I'm going to grieve this book. I'm going to buy a physical copy and place it on my shelf like a tombstone. I'll pass by and wistfully think of the way it absolutely shredded my heart.
And then maybe, one day when I'm feeling strong, I'll pick it up and return to those characters that breathe between the pages. One day—like all of us—I'll return HOME.
Linghun is a story of grief, yes, but about life. About what happens when those left behind by the departed are left behind by the living as well. About how you can fall through the cracks while those around you focus on the past.
As a middle child, I sympathize.
The sadness I felt for Wenqi was unparalleled by any other feeling. Her treatment by her mother, her longing to be better, her fear of failure. All these felt so real and so painful.
Like the residents of HOME, I'm going to be doing my own grieving. I'm going to grieve this book. I'm going to buy a physical copy and place it on my shelf like a tombstone. I'll pass by and wistfully think of the way it absolutely shredded my heart.
And then maybe, one day when I'm feeling strong, I'll pick it up and return to those characters that breathe between the pages. One day—like all of us—I'll return HOME.
May 15, 2024
i think im getting bored of grief horror
November 6, 2022
This is one of those books that people can writes essays about (I know I certainly want to). I finished Linghun three days ago and have been thinking about it ever since. The themes resonate with shared human experiences: the portrayals of grief and loss that Jiang handles with both compassionate delicacy and heart-breaking impact; the tragic ways that hope can veer into obsession and desperation; and the struggle of individuals trying to find their identity outside of their relationship with loved ones.
On a personal level, the experience of Wenqi trying to find balance between the cultural expectations of her immigrant parents while growing up in Canada, and the depiction of an unhealthy love as seen through the eyes of Mrs. were so accurate and truthful that I, as a reader, felt my own life experiences were validated. (Another reason why voices like Jiang's are so, so important).
The writing craft is masterful, using clever POV changes , vivid settings, and a smooth, almost poetic prose. One thing I liked was that though Wenqi and Liam are in their teens, they lack a lot of the angst I see in YA novels, thus emphasizing any emotions they do show.
This is a horror book, in my opinion, but not your typical one, and that's refreshing too.
I cannot recommend Linghun enough. And to Ai Jiang, if you should ever happen upon this review: thank you for writing this story, with these characters. This is genuinely the first time I've read a modern book featuring people with similar experiences to me, and I cannot tell you how much this book made me feel *seen*.
**I requested an eARC in exchange for an honest review**
On a personal level, the experience of Wenqi trying to find balance between the cultural expectations of her immigrant parents while growing up in Canada, and the depiction of an unhealthy love as seen through the eyes of Mrs. were so accurate and truthful that I, as a reader, felt my own life experiences were validated. (Another reason why voices like Jiang's are so, so important).
The writing craft is masterful, using clever POV changes , vivid settings, and a smooth, almost poetic prose. One thing I liked was that though Wenqi and Liam are in their teens, they lack a lot of the angst I see in YA novels, thus emphasizing any emotions they do show.
This is a horror book, in my opinion, but not your typical one, and that's refreshing too.
I cannot recommend Linghun enough. And to Ai Jiang, if you should ever happen upon this review: thank you for writing this story, with these characters. This is genuinely the first time I've read a modern book featuring people with similar experiences to me, and I cannot tell you how much this book made me feel *seen*.
**I requested an eARC in exchange for an honest review**
October 6, 2023
This little novella was a strange, lyrical and atmospheric exploration into grief and the hold it has on the living. I thought it had some interesting commentary on the damage that unresolved grief can have on families.
I also found Mrs experiences with the loss of identity and isolation being a Chinese immigrant woman to be sad and poignant.
This wasn’t a particularly spooky book but it was a melancholic one. But I can’t help but feel like perhaps I missed the point of it that others seemed to have found.
I also found Mrs experiences with the loss of identity and isolation being a Chinese immigrant woman to be sad and poignant.
This wasn’t a particularly spooky book but it was a melancholic one. But I can’t help but feel like perhaps I missed the point of it that others seemed to have found.
October 22, 2023
I started Linghun expecting a horror novella and what I got instead was a family drama with exploration of grief and a young adult romance.
Who would label this as horror? This book was definitely put into the wrong genre.
I like the concept behind HOME, but the plot went nowhere and the ending was rushed and didn't work for me. I'm kind of disappointed.
Who would label this as horror? This book was definitely put into the wrong genre.
I like the concept behind HOME, but the plot went nowhere and the ending was rushed and didn't work for me. I'm kind of disappointed.
April 1, 2024
Pocas veces encontramos libros que nos cuenten una historias desde un enfoque totalmente diferente. De esas a las que te adentras sin saber apenas nada de ellas y que, con el transcurrir de las páginas, te empujen a sentir que tienes entre manos algo que te desconcierta y que te genera emociones. Es el caso de la novela corta de Ai Jiang, que se convierte en un debut refrescante, complejo, ambicioso y cargado de poesía. Pero sobre todo, un libro que apuesta por llenarte la cabeza de muchísimas reflexiones.
Creo que hablar del argumento de Linghum supone estropear su sorpresas. Basta con decir que nos enfrentamos a una situación en la que los vivos tienen la posibilidad de mantener el contacto con seres queridos que han fallecido. Desde esa potente premisa, la escritora china se encargará de plantearnos tres puntos de vista completamente diferentes de situaciones que tienen que ver con ese punto de partida y que permitirán a lector reflexionar acerca de la familia, las debilidades del corazón, el dolor, el miedo, la soledad o, incluso, el papel de la mujer en una sociedad tan patriarcal como esta en la que nos encontramos.
Hay que decir que es uno de esos libros que polarizarán a los lectores. Algunos serán incapaces de conectar con la propuesta, se perderán entre los caminos que insinúa Jiang o no comprenderán la de matices que se esconden en las reflexiones que suelten los personajes al enfrentarse a estas situaciones tan anti naturales. Otros entenderán que esta peculiar historia, tan poética y reflexiva, es el compendio perfecto de filosofía oriental que acercará esa manera de afrontar el duelo a una sociedad más pendientes de lo inmediato que de lo intangible. Todos quizás puedan tener parte de razón, pero quizás la clave está en que tus conclusiones, aquellas que surjan conforme vas avanzando páginas de esta historia, serán únicas.
Porque la gran baza que nos aporta Linghum es la de arrastrarnos con sus premisas hasta que se refleje en tu cabeza el terrible eco de la gran pregunta ¿Qué harías tú en esa situación? La muerte está ahí presente y tarde o temprano nos rozará a todos. A nosotros y a los que queremos. Incluso a aquellos a quienes se la deseamos. Afrontar el duelo supone una profunda y personal reflexión a la que tarde o temprano nos veremos abocados en nuestras vidas y, cualquier respuesta, es la correcta. De ahí que Jiang nos presente personajes lidiando desde todos los puntos de vista ante lo terrible que es dejar atrás a tus seres queridos. Unos se aferran al duelo, lo añoran y lo conservan, como una muestra más del amor que nos queda por dar a las personas que ya no están con nosotros. Otros asumen que la vida sigue adelante y se aferran a recuerdos distorsionados que se diluyen como espejismos. Otros aún mantienen deudas pendientes…
Ai Jiang se muestra fría y hermética en la narración, dejando a los lectores que sean ellos mismos los que sus propias conclusiones ante su primera novela. No hay nada más potente que plantear dilemas universales desde el prisma de las historias más personales. Y es que, tarde o temprano, nos enfrentaremos al HOGAR.
June 3, 2023
“Linghun” is a word in Chinese that means “soul.” But in this appropriately haunting novella by Ai Jiang, it’s not the dead who linger, but the living, whose inability to come to terms with grief has turned them into soulless husks of their former selves, trapped by choice in a kind of purgatory for the living. The story is told from three viewpoints as it unfolds in a town (or perhaps just a suburb) somewhere near Toronto called HOME, an acronym for Homecoming of Missing Entities. If you’re familiar with the five stages of grief as laid out by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, you’ll quickly understand that the bereaved people who have come to HOME are trapped in stage one.
HOME is a neighborhood filled with haunted houses, or, perhaps more accurately, houses that invite hauntings. A family who moves into one — and moving in is difficult, involving auctions that descend into Hunger Games levels of violent brawling — can summon the ghost of a departed loved one by placing mementos of their lives all around the house. Tellingly, some of these departed souls don’t always seem happy to be brought back. And not every member of every surviving family feels an equal obsession with not letting go.
Early in the story we are told about the Lingerers, and at first I thought these might be ghosts as well. But they’re actually grieving people and families who have come to HOME without either the money to afford one of its homes, or who simply turned up when no empty homes were available and are unable to go back where they came from. Lingerers simply camp out on the lawns of the homes they hope to buy, due to a neighborhood rule of unexplained origin that you must be physically present at a property when it is vacated to be allowed to take part in the auction. These are fascinating world building choices by Ai Jiang, because they are so surreal, giving the story the character of gothic horror combined with a kind of dystopian nightmare futurism. (Continued...)
HOME is a neighborhood filled with haunted houses, or, perhaps more accurately, houses that invite hauntings. A family who moves into one — and moving in is difficult, involving auctions that descend into Hunger Games levels of violent brawling — can summon the ghost of a departed loved one by placing mementos of their lives all around the house. Tellingly, some of these departed souls don’t always seem happy to be brought back. And not every member of every surviving family feels an equal obsession with not letting go.
Early in the story we are told about the Lingerers, and at first I thought these might be ghosts as well. But they’re actually grieving people and families who have come to HOME without either the money to afford one of its homes, or who simply turned up when no empty homes were available and are unable to go back where they came from. Lingerers simply camp out on the lawns of the homes they hope to buy, due to a neighborhood rule of unexplained origin that you must be physically present at a property when it is vacated to be allowed to take part in the auction. These are fascinating world building choices by Ai Jiang, because they are so surreal, giving the story the character of gothic horror combined with a kind of dystopian nightmare futurism. (Continued...)
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May 1, 2023I absolutely love ghost stories. Everything from a shadowy figure in one's peripheral vision, a noise coming from an empty room or an inexplicable cold spot--I am a sucker for all that stuff. But the true benchmark of a good ghost story is the effect that ghosts have on the characters. The way grief can warp us or how the need to experience a ghost can change us, or blind us, forever. Linghun delivers this powerfully in just over a hundred beautifully written pages. I think this one is destined to become a classic of the genre.
June 23, 2024
This short novelette saved me from a reading slump. The characters were vivid. I loved our main protagonists. The story itself had me wanting to read the next page until there were no more pages left and I was left wanting more.
Ai Jiang's writing reads effortlessly. Well, for us, the readers. It is clear she put a lot into each word and choice.
This is a story about grief and loss so be cautious if that is something you're dealing with. However, this is not a sad story despite that. Loved it.
Ai Jiang's writing reads effortlessly. Well, for us, the readers. It is clear she put a lot into each word and choice.
This is a story about grief and loss so be cautious if that is something you're dealing with. However, this is not a sad story despite that. Loved it.
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