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Taipei Story
Yale student Lily Chen arrives in Taipei hungry: for family, for culture, for connection.
But her summer of discovery quickly unravels. Her classes are grueling, her roommate unbearable, and a reckless, deeply awkward trip to the hot springs with a guy she barely knows soon ignites vicious gossip.
Then her grandfather dies.
Grieving and adrift, Lily must confront her own questions about the culture she inherited but never fully understood. She embarks on a wryly funny, often devastating search for understanding: of herself, her family, and the meaning of home.
All over one unforgettable summer in Taipei.
But her summer of discovery quickly unravels. Her classes are grueling, her roommate unbearable, and a reckless, deeply awkward trip to the hot springs with a guy she barely knows soon ignites vicious gossip.
Then her grandfather dies.
Grieving and adrift, Lily must confront her own questions about the culture she inherited but never fully understood. She embarks on a wryly funny, often devastating search for understanding: of herself, her family, and the meaning of home.
All over one unforgettable summer in Taipei.
Hardcover
First published September 8, 2026
About the author
R.F. Kuang
30 books100k followersRebecca F. Kuang is a Marshall Scholar, translator, and award-winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Poppy War trilogy and Babel: An Arcane History, among others. She has an MPhil in Chinese Studies from Cambridge and an MSc in Contemporary Chinese Studies from Oxford; she is now pursuing a PhD in East Asian Languages and Literatures at Yale.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,182 reviews
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
3.45 stars
"We spend our lives planning to ask the right questions once our language catches up. We never imagine running out of time before the vocabulary arrives."
This was everything i wanted from a book I’m not a huge fan of kuangs work (me saying that while only having read babel) but this was everything and more i loved how intricately kuang wrote this book. This book follows the story of lily chen who’s come to taipei for languages
The main problem i had with babel was how rf kuang was spoon feeding her readers and how overwhelmingly over explaining that book felt but this was the exact opposite case with this one. The book explores daily life in the context of diaspora and the routine of our fmc which might as well have been boring for some. One thing i know for certain is how kuang writes and explains grief. For me that is an important aspect as I consider myself to be the sadness connoisseur so i loved the exhaustion and sadness coming off in waves from this book.
“Am I sad? Should I be sad? Am I allowed to be sad?”
21 august 2026
I kept thinking to myself about my studies and my constant travels and my health and just my life in general and how I’ve been failing in every single way and how tired i am of failing. I cried that day that i need to pick myself up but I cried even harder when i realised how many times i picked myself only to fall back down again.
“I would always be straining for words, yanking my tongue back from incorrect tones, and it didn’t matter anyway because my Chinese was not good for anything, i did not live here and i didn’t have a family here.”
Some of my closest friends know how I’ve been travelling a lot these days so reading lily’s exhaustion felt comforting in a way. If i had picked this book at some other time I might’ve not liked it that much but safe to say this book felt like a companion to me how relatable the exhaustion, the fear and acceptance of failure and the suffocation from the lack of familiar surrounding felt. In this story lily’s grandfather dies (not a spoiler) so the acceptance of loss of life felt bittersweet too.
"He is a man Lily had been planning, in some vague distant way, to finally have real conversations with once her Mandarin caught up. Her Mandarin never caught up in time."
I resonate with this quote so deeply because i too have so many regrets of not talking sooner of not talking at all. I wanted to have conversations with someone i loved who died but i never had the chance to and i regret it so much i regret not speaking sooner I regret not speaking at all.
Now to the racial aspect i once tried reading the bell jar by sylvia plath but put it down because of the constant white supremacy and the use of racial slurs against black people i felt somewhat similar to that in some parts of this book.
"Chinese Americans always looked like Chinese people put through a broiler."
Uh wdym by that? Also the Israeli character. Lily goes to a concert and the first pianist she sees is israeli (kuang girl this contradicts almost all your previous beliefs wth) the pianist is shown in a positive to neutral light and that makes me so mad/sad because the pianist very well could have been of any other ethnicity him being Israeli didn’t help the story in any way whatsoever.
bottom thoughts
This book may feel very slow to some readers almost boring and mundane as it follows a girl’s journey through taipei eating random foods and doing everyday stuff. This book might as well have been a blog or article so that being said this book wasn’t heavy at all i liked it because I found lily relatable (she’s so self centred and so am i :) ) some emotional elements to this story just the cherry on top.
“Lost.”
"We spend our lives planning to ask the right questions once our language catches up. We never imagine running out of time before the vocabulary arrives."
This was everything i wanted from a book I’m not a huge fan of kuangs work (me saying that while only having read babel) but this was everything and more i loved how intricately kuang wrote this book. This book follows the story of lily chen who’s come to taipei for languages
The main problem i had with babel was how rf kuang was spoon feeding her readers and how overwhelmingly over explaining that book felt but this was the exact opposite case with this one. The book explores daily life in the context of diaspora and the routine of our fmc which might as well have been boring for some. One thing i know for certain is how kuang writes and explains grief. For me that is an important aspect as I consider myself to be the sadness connoisseur so i loved the exhaustion and sadness coming off in waves from this book.
“Am I sad? Should I be sad? Am I allowed to be sad?”
21 august 2026
I kept thinking to myself about my studies and my constant travels and my health and just my life in general and how I’ve been failing in every single way and how tired i am of failing. I cried that day that i need to pick myself up but I cried even harder when i realised how many times i picked myself only to fall back down again.
“I would always be straining for words, yanking my tongue back from incorrect tones, and it didn’t matter anyway because my Chinese was not good for anything, i did not live here and i didn’t have a family here.”
Some of my closest friends know how I’ve been travelling a lot these days so reading lily’s exhaustion felt comforting in a way. If i had picked this book at some other time I might’ve not liked it that much but safe to say this book felt like a companion to me how relatable the exhaustion, the fear and acceptance of failure and the suffocation from the lack of familiar surrounding felt. In this story lily’s grandfather dies (not a spoiler) so the acceptance of loss of life felt bittersweet too.
"He is a man Lily had been planning, in some vague distant way, to finally have real conversations with once her Mandarin caught up. Her Mandarin never caught up in time."
I resonate with this quote so deeply because i too have so many regrets of not talking sooner of not talking at all. I wanted to have conversations with someone i loved who died but i never had the chance to and i regret it so much i regret not speaking sooner I regret not speaking at all.
Now to the racial aspect i once tried reading the bell jar by sylvia plath but put it down because of the constant white supremacy and the use of racial slurs against black people i felt somewhat similar to that in some parts of this book.
"Chinese Americans always looked like Chinese people put through a broiler."
Uh wdym by that? Also the Israeli character. Lily goes to a concert and the first pianist she sees is israeli (kuang girl this contradicts almost all your previous beliefs wth) the pianist is shown in a positive to neutral light and that makes me so mad/sad because the pianist very well could have been of any other ethnicity him being Israeli didn’t help the story in any way whatsoever.
This book may feel very slow to some readers almost boring and mundane as it follows a girl’s journey through taipei eating random foods and doing everyday stuff. This book might as well have been a blog or article so that being said this book wasn’t heavy at all i liked it because I found lily relatable (she’s so self centred and so am i :) ) some emotional elements to this story just the cherry on top.
“Lost.”
Currently Reading
September 8, 20267/9/26 We are so close to release day🤭🤭
1/6/26 The book isn’t even out yet, and people are already mad at Kuang for supposedly including “Zionist propaganda”. I fear people may have taken things out of context. RFK’s inclusion of an Israeli character doesn’t automatically equate to circulating propaganda, especially given that no nuance or context has been provided
9/3/26 Cover reveal! I'm (im)patiently waiting for this one...
1/6/26 The book isn’t even out yet, and people are already mad at Kuang for supposedly including “Zionist propaganda”. I fear people may have taken things out of context. RFK’s inclusion of an Israeli character doesn’t automatically equate to circulating propaganda, especially given that no nuance or context has been provided
9/3/26 Cover reveal! I'm (im)patiently waiting for this one...
September 11, 2026
4.25
The way I related to SO MUCH in this book! All of the feelings of living in between two cultures. Wanting to connect to your heritage and expecting this great homecoming feeling... but when you arrive, you feel like an alien. Not being able to express nuance in another language and being unable to deeply connect to family members because of this barrier. It felt like RF Kuang took a peek into my soul.
While I expected this story to focus on the grief narrative more, I actually really enjoyed the study in language and identity that this book actually gave. The idea that you can sometimes have an entirely different personality while communicating in a different language was something that resonated so deeply with me. Also, the way Lily felt this insecurity and competitive feeling of "who can be the best at being Chinese?" was so interesting. Just gave me so much to think about!
Definitely enjoyed this one - it almost felt more like reading a memoir vs a fiction. I can see how one might yearn for a bit more plot, and there were some bits that felt too info-dumpy and could have been incorporated into the story smoother, but end the end - I loved this book!!!
The way I related to SO MUCH in this book! All of the feelings of living in between two cultures. Wanting to connect to your heritage and expecting this great homecoming feeling... but when you arrive, you feel like an alien. Not being able to express nuance in another language and being unable to deeply connect to family members because of this barrier. It felt like RF Kuang took a peek into my soul.
While I expected this story to focus on the grief narrative more, I actually really enjoyed the study in language and identity that this book actually gave. The idea that you can sometimes have an entirely different personality while communicating in a different language was something that resonated so deeply with me. Also, the way Lily felt this insecurity and competitive feeling of "who can be the best at being Chinese?" was so interesting. Just gave me so much to think about!
Definitely enjoyed this one - it almost felt more like reading a memoir vs a fiction. I can see how one might yearn for a bit more plot, and there were some bits that felt too info-dumpy and could have been incorporated into the story smoother, but end the end - I loved this book!!!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I requested Taipei Story because I am, if nothing else, a huge language nerd. I started reading and thought, “Nope. This was not written for me.” And then, somewhere along the way, I started seeing myself in Lily despite all the reasons I thought I wouldn’t.
Lily Chen, a college freshman, spends ten weeks in Taipei at an intensive Chinese language program to relearn the language she has forgotten and reconnect with a culture she inherited but has only ever experienced from a distance. It’s supposed to be her homecoming. It should all be rather easy, right?
The story unfolds through vignettes of rather mundane everyday experiences. Lily goes to class. She struggles to order food. She can’t remember the correct word. Exactly what you’d expect to happen when someone doesn’t really know the language they are trying to speak. It reads a bit like a teenager’s travel blog where every vignette is a new blog post describing whatever Lily just did and the thoughts she had while doing it. The beginning is slow and, frankly, rather boring. What is the point of all these completely expected, everyday experiences? Where is the story? The conflict? I was stuck between “this isn’t even a story” and “maybe this just isn’t for me, because what the hell do I know about the diaspora experience?”
Except there is a story. Taipei Story reminds me of The Bell Jar because both are told through seemingly ordinary experiences that matter because of how the protagonist experiences them. It doesn’t really matter what Lily does that day. What matters is what she thinks and feels while doing it. There’s a lot of showing and basically no telling (yay). We are rarely told exactly how Lily feels. Instead, we are allowed to just sit inside her mind and observe the questions she asks herself and the conclusions she cannot quite reach. Am I sad? Should I be sad? The entire story, from conflict to resolution, is internal, and slowly, those pointless little scenes stop feeling pointless.
Kuang introduces this as a book about getting things wrong. My initial reaction was basically, “Getting things wrong while learning a language? Groundbreaking.” Clearly, I had no idea what she meant. Yes, Lily gets words wrong and sometimes meaning gets lost in translation, but the heart and soul of this book is about getting things wrong on a bigger level than just words. What is expected of Lily. How she should feel and act and study and learn. What is expected of her as a friend, a girlfriend, a daughter, a granddaughter, a Chinese person, a Chinese American person. She gets it all wrong. It’s about all the times we go into something with certain expectations and realize only too late that we should have acted or felt differently before we ran out of time.
Maybe the vignettes are mundane and shapeless on purpose. Maybe they become whatever you see in them, a little like a Rorschach test or an abstract painting. On the surface, it’s a bunch of nothing. A huge part of this book belongs specifically to experiences of diaspora and growing up in an Asian family, which I cannot personally speak to, but that didn’t make the book inaccessible to me. Lily is relatable in a lot of ways: her habit of trying to logic her way out of feelings, not knowing what she is supposed to feel in a given situation, the sinking feeling of walking into a room and believing everyone is talking about her, misunderstanding what other people expect of her, and all the ways we misunderstand what an experience is supposed to mean while we’re still living it. Other readers might see something completely different in the same scenes, and I think that’s the point. You are shown Lily’s experiences and how they affect her, but what do they make you feel? What do they make you think of? What does the “nothing” become when you look at it?
So what about the Israeli pianist? And yes, truly, what about him? His nationality is mentioned twice (once to introduce him, and once to refer to "the audience of the Israeli pianist"). Lily attends several of his concerts because she is lonely. Navigating Taipei’s cultural scene alone makes her feel capable and gives her a chance to immerse herself, while his music gives her something to feel. The book does not use him to discuss Israel or Palestine, and his nationality has no discernible political function. Kuang must have anticipated that people would react strongly, so it is an interesting and perhaps questionable choice to make him Israeli, especially when he could seemingly have been from anywhere since his nationality has no impact on his role in the story. Questioning that choice is completely fair. Negatively reviewing the book based only on knowing that an Israeli character appears in it is not criticism of the text. It is a reaction to one fact stripped of all its context. If Kuang is making a Zionist argument here, I could not find it.
I was so certain this wasn’t a story for me. Apparently, that was just one more thing I got wrong.
A big thank you to Netgalley, HarperCollins UK/HarperFiction, The Borough Press and R.F. Kuang for the ARC!
Lily Chen, a college freshman, spends ten weeks in Taipei at an intensive Chinese language program to relearn the language she has forgotten and reconnect with a culture she inherited but has only ever experienced from a distance. It’s supposed to be her homecoming. It should all be rather easy, right?
The story unfolds through vignettes of rather mundane everyday experiences. Lily goes to class. She struggles to order food. She can’t remember the correct word. Exactly what you’d expect to happen when someone doesn’t really know the language they are trying to speak. It reads a bit like a teenager’s travel blog where every vignette is a new blog post describing whatever Lily just did and the thoughts she had while doing it. The beginning is slow and, frankly, rather boring. What is the point of all these completely expected, everyday experiences? Where is the story? The conflict? I was stuck between “this isn’t even a story” and “maybe this just isn’t for me, because what the hell do I know about the diaspora experience?”
Except there is a story. Taipei Story reminds me of The Bell Jar because both are told through seemingly ordinary experiences that matter because of how the protagonist experiences them. It doesn’t really matter what Lily does that day. What matters is what she thinks and feels while doing it. There’s a lot of showing and basically no telling (yay). We are rarely told exactly how Lily feels. Instead, we are allowed to just sit inside her mind and observe the questions she asks herself and the conclusions she cannot quite reach. Am I sad? Should I be sad? The entire story, from conflict to resolution, is internal, and slowly, those pointless little scenes stop feeling pointless.
Kuang introduces this as a book about getting things wrong. My initial reaction was basically, “Getting things wrong while learning a language? Groundbreaking.” Clearly, I had no idea what she meant. Yes, Lily gets words wrong and sometimes meaning gets lost in translation, but the heart and soul of this book is about getting things wrong on a bigger level than just words. What is expected of Lily. How she should feel and act and study and learn. What is expected of her as a friend, a girlfriend, a daughter, a granddaughter, a Chinese person, a Chinese American person. She gets it all wrong. It’s about all the times we go into something with certain expectations and realize only too late that we should have acted or felt differently before we ran out of time.
Maybe the vignettes are mundane and shapeless on purpose. Maybe they become whatever you see in them, a little like a Rorschach test or an abstract painting. On the surface, it’s a bunch of nothing. A huge part of this book belongs specifically to experiences of diaspora and growing up in an Asian family, which I cannot personally speak to, but that didn’t make the book inaccessible to me. Lily is relatable in a lot of ways: her habit of trying to logic her way out of feelings, not knowing what she is supposed to feel in a given situation, the sinking feeling of walking into a room and believing everyone is talking about her, misunderstanding what other people expect of her, and all the ways we misunderstand what an experience is supposed to mean while we’re still living it. Other readers might see something completely different in the same scenes, and I think that’s the point. You are shown Lily’s experiences and how they affect her, but what do they make you feel? What do they make you think of? What does the “nothing” become when you look at it?
So what about the Israeli pianist? And yes, truly, what about him? His nationality is mentioned twice (once to introduce him, and once to refer to "the audience of the Israeli pianist"). Lily attends several of his concerts because she is lonely. Navigating Taipei’s cultural scene alone makes her feel capable and gives her a chance to immerse herself, while his music gives her something to feel. The book does not use him to discuss Israel or Palestine, and his nationality has no discernible political function. Kuang must have anticipated that people would react strongly, so it is an interesting and perhaps questionable choice to make him Israeli, especially when he could seemingly have been from anywhere since his nationality has no impact on his role in the story. Questioning that choice is completely fair. Negatively reviewing the book based only on knowing that an Israeli character appears in it is not criticism of the text. It is a reaction to one fact stripped of all its context. If Kuang is making a Zionist argument here, I could not find it.
I was so certain this wasn’t a story for me. Apparently, that was just one more thing I got wrong.
A big thank you to Netgalley, HarperCollins UK/HarperFiction, The Borough Press and R.F. Kuang for the ARC!
September 15, 2026
All the time while I read this, I kept thinking: if this had been written by anybody else, would I still be reading it? Or, alternatively: if this had been written by anybody else, would I be enjoying it?
I did not have fun with this. I think books can be not particularly fun and still be enjoyable, if they have other purposes, other meaningful bonds to form with the reader. I am still lost as to what is the purpose of this book.
Is this a glorified travel diary? An awkward college novel? An exploration of Self and Otherness in the context of diaspora? A multi-layered Wikipedia page? The book doesn't seem to decide on its identity, which could be a deliberate mirroring of Lily's own predicament… ooooor it could just be the new Kuang novel that wants to cram more sensitive knowledge and information than conflict into its seams. Cof Katabasis cof.
For the majority of the book, there is not much of a plot or presented conflict: just a sequence of hardships and complaints. Lily is a very uncompelling narrator, who is at once an accomplished straight-A’s workaholic student of Yale, majoring in East Asian Studies (!), as well as a completely apolitical, clueless and uncurious person. She is inert and indecisive and, as always seems to be the case with R. F. Kuang novels lately, doesn’t really like any woman in her life. I was very excited when straight away there was mention of a fun, carefree female friend who would accompany her in her travel, only for it to turn out that she is actually a detestable, literally filthy rival brat. Other than her decision to dislike all the women in her vicinity, she does not make up her mind about anything, holds no opinion, and reading her overthinking rambles regarding her indecisiveness is as fun as overthinking itself. Meaning it isn’t. It’s not that Lily is unlikeable (novels and readers nowadays seem to be so worried about making women unlikeable, as if the world doesn’t dislike women enough lol), it’s just that she’s a very dull, null character, without a voice, without direction and without a point of view.
When a conflict is at last presented, almost a hundred pages in, it is a soap-opera level of high school conflict, uninteresting and predictable, and folds within itself without any closure; when another conflict is presented, the one that apparently was meant to be the whole motivation for the story, it’s almost closing time for the book, and we just rush through a torrent of information until it’s time to go home. It’s not satisfying and doesn’t provide much depth of feeling to be moving in the way it is clearly intended to be.
I’ve decided that the main problem with the book is that it goes out of its way to be as nuanced as possible in regards to China-Taiwan matters, to present every possible side of the issues in a very sugarcoated, diffuse language so as to not ruffle any feathers. There is a wall of opaqueness surrounding what is very much at the center of the book, and that makes any exploration of its political issues – diaspora, otherness, generational trauma and loss – matter-of-factly impossible. It's sad to watch the narration squirming to slip itself out of any responsibility or commitment to the issue it endeavours to present to the public, failing at that as well: if you know nothing of China-Taiwan-USA relations, you'll come out of this book the same way you went into it.
(Oh, and in case you're worried this book contains any sort of israeli propaganda or validation, you can breathe easy. It doesn't contain enough bite to be that or the opposite. The mention of an israeli person is just a blip in the story that only alludes to a political possibility but it is, as everything else, vague and bland to that end.)
So, overall, this was not a good book, it made me happy to finish reading it, and though I'm not abandoning R. F. Kuang’s bibliography, I don't think I'll be as excited and anxious for her releases from now on as I was in the past.
I did not have fun with this. I think books can be not particularly fun and still be enjoyable, if they have other purposes, other meaningful bonds to form with the reader. I am still lost as to what is the purpose of this book.
Is this a glorified travel diary? An awkward college novel? An exploration of Self and Otherness in the context of diaspora? A multi-layered Wikipedia page? The book doesn't seem to decide on its identity, which could be a deliberate mirroring of Lily's own predicament… ooooor it could just be the new Kuang novel that wants to cram more sensitive knowledge and information than conflict into its seams. Cof Katabasis cof.
For the majority of the book, there is not much of a plot or presented conflict: just a sequence of hardships and complaints. Lily is a very uncompelling narrator, who is at once an accomplished straight-A’s workaholic student of Yale, majoring in East Asian Studies (!), as well as a completely apolitical, clueless and uncurious person. She is inert and indecisive and, as always seems to be the case with R. F. Kuang novels lately, doesn’t really like any woman in her life. I was very excited when straight away there was mention of a fun, carefree female friend who would accompany her in her travel, only for it to turn out that she is actually a detestable, literally filthy rival brat. Other than her decision to dislike all the women in her vicinity, she does not make up her mind about anything, holds no opinion, and reading her overthinking rambles regarding her indecisiveness is as fun as overthinking itself. Meaning it isn’t. It’s not that Lily is unlikeable (novels and readers nowadays seem to be so worried about making women unlikeable, as if the world doesn’t dislike women enough lol), it’s just that she’s a very dull, null character, without a voice, without direction and without a point of view.
When a conflict is at last presented, almost a hundred pages in, it is a soap-opera level of high school conflict, uninteresting and predictable, and folds within itself without any closure; when another conflict is presented, the one that apparently was meant to be the whole motivation for the story, it’s almost closing time for the book, and we just rush through a torrent of information until it’s time to go home. It’s not satisfying and doesn’t provide much depth of feeling to be moving in the way it is clearly intended to be.
I’ve decided that the main problem with the book is that it goes out of its way to be as nuanced as possible in regards to China-Taiwan matters, to present every possible side of the issues in a very sugarcoated, diffuse language so as to not ruffle any feathers. There is a wall of opaqueness surrounding what is very much at the center of the book, and that makes any exploration of its political issues – diaspora, otherness, generational trauma and loss – matter-of-factly impossible. It's sad to watch the narration squirming to slip itself out of any responsibility or commitment to the issue it endeavours to present to the public, failing at that as well: if you know nothing of China-Taiwan-USA relations, you'll come out of this book the same way you went into it.
(Oh, and in case you're worried this book contains any sort of israeli propaganda or validation, you can breathe easy. It doesn't contain enough bite to be that or the opposite. The mention of an israeli person is just a blip in the story that only alludes to a political possibility but it is, as everything else, vague and bland to that end.)
So, overall, this was not a good book, it made me happy to finish reading it, and though I'm not abandoning R. F. Kuang’s bibliography, I don't think I'll be as excited and anxious for her releases from now on as I was in the past.
September 12, 2026
This wasn't exactly what I expected.
The story mainly unfolds through telling rather than showing, which made it hard for me to get invested in Lily's struggles or feel truly connected to her character. Most of the narrative depends on exposition, leading to a somewhat detached reading experience.
The most engaging parts were the paragraphs describing Taiwan, China, and their complex relationship, especially given the current tense situation Taiwan faces. These sections caught my attention the most.
However, despite that, I felt the author only skimmed the surface of the issues she aimed to explore. She never delved deeper into the political, historical, or cultural nuances, leaving everything at a superficial level. This kept the story from fully addressing or developing these themes.
It didn't help that the protagonist, Lily, seemed uninterested in learning more about Taiwan itself. While I understand her main goal was to improve her Chinese language skills, it was strange that she showed so little curiosity about the country’s history or current events. This felt like a missed opportunity.
As a result, Lily was neither likable nor unlikable. She came across as a quiet, passive, or perhaps pushover type, someone whose personality lacked distinctiveness. Though I occasionally found her relatable, those moments were rare, and most of the time I found her frustrating.
On a different note, I’d like to address the elephant in the room: the Israeli pianist. Many readers have shared opinions on the author's choice to make the pianist Israeli, with some supporting and others criticizing it. I waited to form my opinion until I read the book myself. Now that I have, I can share my view. This is just my personal opinion, and I acknowledge others might disagree.
I think the author chose to keep her message subtle at a moment that felt inopportune. Knowing her audience expects straightforwardness, she opted for subtle hints, though this risked making her point less clear. Every author can change their style, but I believe it was a poor decision to start with this subject.
The scene with the Israeli pianist can be seen in two ways: either the audience remained silent because they didn't support his country or because they were captivated by his performance. Still, the later descriptions of other artists and audience reactions make the first explanation less likely. I think there was no need to specify the pianist was Israeli since there was no follow-up discussion; nothing came of it. If she was aiming for subtlety, it’s inconsistent because, in this story, she openly discusses past atrocities loudly and clearly, yet stays discreet about Israel. Similarly, while she talks about Taiwan's current tensions with China, she prefers to focus on history rather than addressing today’s realities directly.
In conclusion, the book was okay. The author clearly cares about past atrocities and speaks openly about them, but seems more cautious and subtle when it comes to current issues. I don’t believe she supports Israel, especially given her past comments. It seems she might deliberately avoid writing about today’s issues to ensure her work remains publishable because world leaders pretend to care while secretly dismissing the atrocities that are happening.
The story mainly unfolds through telling rather than showing, which made it hard for me to get invested in Lily's struggles or feel truly connected to her character. Most of the narrative depends on exposition, leading to a somewhat detached reading experience.
The most engaging parts were the paragraphs describing Taiwan, China, and their complex relationship, especially given the current tense situation Taiwan faces. These sections caught my attention the most.
However, despite that, I felt the author only skimmed the surface of the issues she aimed to explore. She never delved deeper into the political, historical, or cultural nuances, leaving everything at a superficial level. This kept the story from fully addressing or developing these themes.
It didn't help that the protagonist, Lily, seemed uninterested in learning more about Taiwan itself. While I understand her main goal was to improve her Chinese language skills, it was strange that she showed so little curiosity about the country’s history or current events. This felt like a missed opportunity.
As a result, Lily was neither likable nor unlikable. She came across as a quiet, passive, or perhaps pushover type, someone whose personality lacked distinctiveness. Though I occasionally found her relatable, those moments were rare, and most of the time I found her frustrating.
On a different note, I’d like to address the elephant in the room: the Israeli pianist. Many readers have shared opinions on the author's choice to make the pianist Israeli, with some supporting and others criticizing it. I waited to form my opinion until I read the book myself. Now that I have, I can share my view. This is just my personal opinion, and I acknowledge others might disagree.
I think the author chose to keep her message subtle at a moment that felt inopportune. Knowing her audience expects straightforwardness, she opted for subtle hints, though this risked making her point less clear. Every author can change their style, but I believe it was a poor decision to start with this subject.
The scene with the Israeli pianist can be seen in two ways: either the audience remained silent because they didn't support his country or because they were captivated by his performance. Still, the later descriptions of other artists and audience reactions make the first explanation less likely. I think there was no need to specify the pianist was Israeli since there was no follow-up discussion; nothing came of it. If she was aiming for subtlety, it’s inconsistent because, in this story, she openly discusses past atrocities loudly and clearly, yet stays discreet about Israel. Similarly, while she talks about Taiwan's current tensions with China, she prefers to focus on history rather than addressing today’s realities directly.
In conclusion, the book was okay. The author clearly cares about past atrocities and speaks openly about them, but seems more cautious and subtle when it comes to current issues. I don’t believe she supports Israel, especially given her past comments. It seems she might deliberately avoid writing about today’s issues to ensure her work remains publishable because world leaders pretend to care while secretly dismissing the atrocities that are happening.
May 13, 2026
Many thanks to William Morrow for the ARC. To start– I have read every single book RF Kuang has published. Yellowface and Babel are god-tier reads for me. But between Katabasis and Taipei Story, I’m TIRED. It feels like Kuang just lives to write stories that show how educated she is. Like Katabasis, Taipei Story felt like a dissertation. Except Taipei Story was more like a dully written travel foodie blog. I don’t think Lily was meant to be likable necessarily, but at least make her interesting! God this was so boring.
September 13, 2026
Wow si vous êtes enfant d’immigrés c’est pour vous mais si vous êtes un enfant d’immigrés qui a déjà fait ses études à l’étranger c’est juste too close to home. C’est fou comment avec un style qui peut paraître assez simple RF Kuang arrive à faire passer tant de messages, d’idées, et d’émotions
Peut-être mon livre préféré d’elle jusqu’à maintenant en vrai non je rigole Babel d’abord quand même
Peut-être mon livre préféré d’elle jusqu’à maintenant en vrai non je rigole Babel d’abord quand même
Want to Read
September 8, 2026_Happy release day🤭.
OMG WE HAVE A COVER and it's giving OFF CHINESE CULTURAL VIBES😍
OMG WE HAVE A COVER and it's giving OFF CHINESE CULTURAL VIBES😍
Want to Read
March 8, 2026Not every book of hers is a win for me, but I love to see an author experimenting with different genres. Can't wait for a coming-of-age novel featuring grief and culture shock by R.F. Kuang. And what a cool cover too!
Read
July 3, 2026I've always found R.F. Kuang to be such an intelligent writer, full of ideas that she can't help but stuff into her novels. It's clear she cares a lot about her subject matter, no matter what she's writing about. But sometimes I feel like that takes precedence over the actually story she is telling, at least for me.
That is not the case in this lovely, quiet, and contemplative coming-of-age novel that follows a college sophomore studying at an immersive Chinese-language school in Taiwan over her summer break.
Lily Chen is Chinese-American but, as with many first generation children of immigrants, she doesn't have as strong of a grasp on her extended family's language as she'd like. So she sets off for 10 weeks to Taiwan to better understand it, and hopefully, through that understanding begin to grow closer to her parents, grandparents, and their family history.
This is, I believe, Kuang's first dip into true literary fiction -- a character focused story that doesn't have high highs or low lows, but instead follows a young adult coming to terms with their place in the world, and how that might differ from the expectations they feel are put on them, or at least that they put on themselves. I thought a bit about Sally Rooney throughout this book, in her earlier works, and how while 'nothing really happens' on the outside, so much is going on under the surface. Kuang balanced that listless, meandering quality that some litfic novels have, while adding depth through the discussions of linguistics, family history, and identity that Lily Chen interrogates.
Lily is a really relatable protagonist; despite our obvious differences, I saw a lot of myself in her in terms of her sense of self as a student. She asks so many questions, mainly of herself, that she uses to sketch a picture of herself. And over the summer we get to watch her fill that in with experiences that put her outside of her comfort zone as well as unexpected life events that shake up her world. This reminds her that having complete control over everything is neither possible nor conducive to growth.
I think many readers will find a lot to relate to in this book, though I'm not sure the style will be as immediately endearing to R.F. Kuang's fans. It was, however, for me, and I was pleasantly surprised by this one!
That is not the case in this lovely, quiet, and contemplative coming-of-age novel that follows a college sophomore studying at an immersive Chinese-language school in Taiwan over her summer break.
Lily Chen is Chinese-American but, as with many first generation children of immigrants, she doesn't have as strong of a grasp on her extended family's language as she'd like. So she sets off for 10 weeks to Taiwan to better understand it, and hopefully, through that understanding begin to grow closer to her parents, grandparents, and their family history.
This is, I believe, Kuang's first dip into true literary fiction -- a character focused story that doesn't have high highs or low lows, but instead follows a young adult coming to terms with their place in the world, and how that might differ from the expectations they feel are put on them, or at least that they put on themselves. I thought a bit about Sally Rooney throughout this book, in her earlier works, and how while 'nothing really happens' on the outside, so much is going on under the surface. Kuang balanced that listless, meandering quality that some litfic novels have, while adding depth through the discussions of linguistics, family history, and identity that Lily Chen interrogates.
Lily is a really relatable protagonist; despite our obvious differences, I saw a lot of myself in her in terms of her sense of self as a student. She asks so many questions, mainly of herself, that she uses to sketch a picture of herself. And over the summer we get to watch her fill that in with experiences that put her outside of her comfort zone as well as unexpected life events that shake up her world. This reminds her that having complete control over everything is neither possible nor conducive to growth.
I think many readers will find a lot to relate to in this book, though I'm not sure the style will be as immediately endearing to R.F. Kuang's fans. It was, however, for me, and I was pleasantly surprised by this one!
September 9, 2026
I 'm seeing a bunch of ridiculous complaints as I realize I forgot to update my review!:
"She didn't live in Taipei, what does she know?" Well, C.S. Lewis didn't live Narnia either.
"She mentions there is an Israeli man". They do exist, and this doesn't make her anti anything quite frankly, you need to get a grip. It's immature and ignorant. And yes, I hate war and genocide.
One of the few FIVE star reads of 2026. I related SO much to what Kuang was discussing, whether it was the pressures of not just attending a good school, but comparing yourself to other students around you, with the forcible nature of just succeeding in a Chinese parents watchful eye.
I’ve never felt so seen and heard from an author, who clearly can articulate the Chinese diaspora like no other. I highlighted SO many quotes from this book!
“Chinese parents loved playing games like this: punishing you for the things they never taught you.”
"She didn't live in Taipei, what does she know?" Well, C.S. Lewis didn't live Narnia either.
"She mentions there is an Israeli man". They do exist, and this doesn't make her anti anything quite frankly, you need to get a grip. It's immature and ignorant. And yes, I hate war and genocide.
One of the few FIVE star reads of 2026. I related SO much to what Kuang was discussing, whether it was the pressures of not just attending a good school, but comparing yourself to other students around you, with the forcible nature of just succeeding in a Chinese parents watchful eye.
I’ve never felt so seen and heard from an author, who clearly can articulate the Chinese diaspora like no other. I highlighted SO many quotes from this book!
“Chinese parents loved playing games like this: punishing you for the things they never taught you.”
Currently Reading
September 8, 2026Amidst all my books, coming of age novels are usually some of my favorite. I love stories about finding a sense of belonging from years of family silence or identity crisis. I think I'm going to enjoy this one quite a bit.
September 14, 2026
Thank you to The Borough Press and NetGalley for an ARC of Taipei Story in exchange for an honest review.
There's this quote by Jean-Paul Sartre that goes something like "I have lived a toothless life; I have never bitten into anything". I think Taipei Story was a toothless novel. Toothless and passionless, not even deigning to ask the reader to care about Lily Chen and her Mandarin journey. I want to emphasise that I, coincidentally, just got back from my own summer exchange programme, and so I thought I was uniquely positioned to enjoy R.F. Kuang's seventh novel. But I just found myself saying, time and time again, meh.
Without further preamble, let me get into why this novel didn't work. My first issue with Taipei Story is that it's barely a novel. This is essentially a YouTube travel vlog to Taiwan cosplaying as a novel. The first element missing is that there are no stakes whatsoever, and therefore, there is no story. The novel never incentivises you to care about the protagonist, Lily Chen. There is no plot propulsion. There is no question of why this intensive Mandarin language programme is important to her life or character development. We are not left wondering what the protagonist stands to lose or risk if she doesn't complete this programme or benefit from it. There is no intrigue, no urgency to the conflict at hand—if there is indeed a conflict—and no motivation to turn each page. This is the recounting of a kid's summer in Taiwan.
The author seems to believe that information-dumping about Mandarin linguistics or Taiwanese history compensates for the lack of interiority possessed by this character. We do not know what Lily Chen wants or needs, because the novel does not know either. Taipei Story does not try to convince us that Lily is a worthy protagonist; she has almost no character traits whatsoever. More concerningly, the novel does not seem to recognise this about Lily. I could not envision a more bland or empty-vessel protagonist than Lily Chen, who is, I must say, the cardboard cutout of an Asian-American college student. Lily, importantly, undergoes no real changes throughout the story. There is no catharsis, no epitome, and no katabasis (pun intended). Therefore, we're left with a character who has no character arc. This leads me to my next issue: that Lily Chen exists so that the author can tell us cool stuff about Taiwan, and for little else.
There are significant passages of this novel that go on for pages at a time and they are near-indistinguishable from a Wikipedia article on Taiwan/Mandarin/China/etc. Now, these sections are incredibly well-researched and they speak to the author's meticulous, first-hand experience with the subject matter. But they have no significance to the plot. They do not inspire anything meaningful in Lily, advance the storyline, nor even tell us anything about her character. These passage—which are usually about Taiwanese food or language particularities or Taipei infrastructure or Chinese history—have no voice. There's no bite, no rhetoric, no tension, no drama. It's just information, and if this was a debut work, the average agent would have shut the book almost immediately. This, in my opinion, is just poor novel writing. A novel is not an essay or a dissertation or an encyclopedia article. A novel is a novel, and these passages—which I am certain comprise about a third of the novel's content—do not aid the storytelling. They are just reflections that the author is excited to tell us about, because of the quantity of (great!) research completed on contemporary Taiwan.
Lily Chen is indistinguishable from any other Asian college student, which is rather irritating as the author eventually tries to bring in a subplot that involves Lily's family. This is about her paternal grandfather's death in China... Despite the fact that we heard nothing about the grandfather for the first half of the book. Again, we are expected to care, which is unfortunate, as this subplot arrives after the 50% mark. However, by this point, we are made to understand that Lily doesn't really think of her family. She isn't close with them, she doesn't communicate with the affected family member in particular, and most of the novel up until this point has revolved around two things: Lily is really into Taiwanese food, and Lily isn't as good at Mandarin as she would like to be. So, to then introduce this "conflict" after the halfway mark is something of a failure. Why should we care? We haven't been made to understand the relationship between Lily and the affected character. We haven't been given evidence that this person mattered or should matter (see: there's a general problem with copious telling and little showing in this book). This character was not even originally introduced as having served as a reason for Lily to come to Taiwan in the first place; they weren't part of the "hook" of the story. So, all in all, I thought this subplot was forced, made to attempt to convince us that Lily is a person with Thoughts and Feelings.
The issue is that Lily doesn't really think. She devotes pages upon pages to the most mundane details: buying breakfast at a cafe, struggling with an assignment in class, dealing with a storm warning. But these are all just presented as vignettes comprising Lily's summer in Taipei. There's no congruousness or coherence to these episodes that would paint the portrait of Lily Chen. She, and her whole group of friends and teachers, are generic. I think it's poor character work and poor storytelling, because there's no character and no story. See: my Wikipedia article accusations.
I do want to talk about the Israel mentions, by the way. Is it realistic that there would be acclaimed Israeli pianists in Taipei? Yes, of course. That's completely realistic, and this inclusion in the novel could function as subtle signal that Taiwan is aligned with the Western imperial powers (which, of course, includes Israel). However, what struck me is that Kuang generally devotes significant time to telling us about the backgrounds of different characters in the novel. If someone in Lily's Mandarin class is from Cambodia, there is usually an anecdote or a reflection about that. If someone is white and saying things that are clearly Orientalist in nature, Lily reflects about that, too. There's reflections and questions about all of the different nationalities that pop up in the novel. However, there's nothing about Israel or the pianist being Israeli. We have a lot of backstory about why X classmate is German or why Y classmate lives in Myanmar, but nothing about that Israeli pianist. I do not think that Kuang was endorsing Israel intentionally, but I do indeed think that the mention is a throwaway mention, now that I've read the whole novel. What most likely happened is that Kuang watched an Israeli pianist play when she was actually in Taiwan and wanted to reproduce that in the story. I don't know, it's just a guess. My conclusion: the Israel mention is not, and was never, necessary on a plot or thematic level.
This book wasn't all bad, and there's a reason I gave it two stars instead of one. The first thing I respected about the novel is the quantity and depth of research put into the story, as with all of the author's works. A lot of attention was devoted to the intricacies of Mandarin and language-learning (especially for heritage speakers and immigrant children). This novel wasn't bullshitting when it claimed to be about language, translation, and heritage. The second thing I admired about this book was that it didn't pull any punches about establishing why this Chinese-American character had picked Taiwan to reconnect with Mandarin. A lot of time was spent discussing important topics like the difficulties of getting a Chinese visa as an American, as well as the question as to who, exactly, gets to feel like they "own" a language or place. Lily is not Taiwanese, and neither are her parents, and yet she feels as though she belongs in Taipei. The novel makes it clear how this can be problematic or an incomplete assessment about belonging when it comes from a privileged American, given Taiwan's complex geopolitics. I appreciate that this discussion was at the heart of the novel, as it showed a great level of care dedicated to the concept of homelands and belonging.
Overall, I was not happy with this novel. I wanted to like Taipei Story. I'm literally a translator. I love transnational fiction. I've been in language learning classrooms since I was eleven. I'd thought this novel was written for me! However, I'm just not convinced this was really a novel.
There's this quote by Jean-Paul Sartre that goes something like "I have lived a toothless life; I have never bitten into anything". I think Taipei Story was a toothless novel. Toothless and passionless, not even deigning to ask the reader to care about Lily Chen and her Mandarin journey. I want to emphasise that I, coincidentally, just got back from my own summer exchange programme, and so I thought I was uniquely positioned to enjoy R.F. Kuang's seventh novel. But I just found myself saying, time and time again, meh.
Without further preamble, let me get into why this novel didn't work. My first issue with Taipei Story is that it's barely a novel. This is essentially a YouTube travel vlog to Taiwan cosplaying as a novel. The first element missing is that there are no stakes whatsoever, and therefore, there is no story. The novel never incentivises you to care about the protagonist, Lily Chen. There is no plot propulsion. There is no question of why this intensive Mandarin language programme is important to her life or character development. We are not left wondering what the protagonist stands to lose or risk if she doesn't complete this programme or benefit from it. There is no intrigue, no urgency to the conflict at hand—if there is indeed a conflict—and no motivation to turn each page. This is the recounting of a kid's summer in Taiwan.
The author seems to believe that information-dumping about Mandarin linguistics or Taiwanese history compensates for the lack of interiority possessed by this character. We do not know what Lily Chen wants or needs, because the novel does not know either. Taipei Story does not try to convince us that Lily is a worthy protagonist; she has almost no character traits whatsoever. More concerningly, the novel does not seem to recognise this about Lily. I could not envision a more bland or empty-vessel protagonist than Lily Chen, who is, I must say, the cardboard cutout of an Asian-American college student. Lily, importantly, undergoes no real changes throughout the story. There is no catharsis, no epitome, and no katabasis (pun intended). Therefore, we're left with a character who has no character arc. This leads me to my next issue: that Lily Chen exists so that the author can tell us cool stuff about Taiwan, and for little else.
There are significant passages of this novel that go on for pages at a time and they are near-indistinguishable from a Wikipedia article on Taiwan/Mandarin/China/etc. Now, these sections are incredibly well-researched and they speak to the author's meticulous, first-hand experience with the subject matter. But they have no significance to the plot. They do not inspire anything meaningful in Lily, advance the storyline, nor even tell us anything about her character. These passage—which are usually about Taiwanese food or language particularities or Taipei infrastructure or Chinese history—have no voice. There's no bite, no rhetoric, no tension, no drama. It's just information, and if this was a debut work, the average agent would have shut the book almost immediately. This, in my opinion, is just poor novel writing. A novel is not an essay or a dissertation or an encyclopedia article. A novel is a novel, and these passages—which I am certain comprise about a third of the novel's content—do not aid the storytelling. They are just reflections that the author is excited to tell us about, because of the quantity of (great!) research completed on contemporary Taiwan.
Lily Chen is indistinguishable from any other Asian college student, which is rather irritating as the author eventually tries to bring in a subplot that involves Lily's family. This is about her paternal grandfather's death in China... Despite the fact that we heard nothing about the grandfather for the first half of the book. Again, we are expected to care, which is unfortunate, as this subplot arrives after the 50% mark. However, by this point, we are made to understand that Lily doesn't really think of her family. She isn't close with them, she doesn't communicate with the affected family member in particular, and most of the novel up until this point has revolved around two things: Lily is really into Taiwanese food, and Lily isn't as good at Mandarin as she would like to be. So, to then introduce this "conflict" after the halfway mark is something of a failure. Why should we care? We haven't been made to understand the relationship between Lily and the affected character. We haven't been given evidence that this person mattered or should matter (see: there's a general problem with copious telling and little showing in this book). This character was not even originally introduced as having served as a reason for Lily to come to Taiwan in the first place; they weren't part of the "hook" of the story. So, all in all, I thought this subplot was forced, made to attempt to convince us that Lily is a person with Thoughts and Feelings.
The issue is that Lily doesn't really think. She devotes pages upon pages to the most mundane details: buying breakfast at a cafe, struggling with an assignment in class, dealing with a storm warning. But these are all just presented as vignettes comprising Lily's summer in Taipei. There's no congruousness or coherence to these episodes that would paint the portrait of Lily Chen. She, and her whole group of friends and teachers, are generic. I think it's poor character work and poor storytelling, because there's no character and no story. See: my Wikipedia article accusations.
I do want to talk about the Israel mentions, by the way. Is it realistic that there would be acclaimed Israeli pianists in Taipei? Yes, of course. That's completely realistic, and this inclusion in the novel could function as subtle signal that Taiwan is aligned with the Western imperial powers (which, of course, includes Israel). However, what struck me is that Kuang generally devotes significant time to telling us about the backgrounds of different characters in the novel. If someone in Lily's Mandarin class is from Cambodia, there is usually an anecdote or a reflection about that. If someone is white and saying things that are clearly Orientalist in nature, Lily reflects about that, too. There's reflections and questions about all of the different nationalities that pop up in the novel. However, there's nothing about Israel or the pianist being Israeli. We have a lot of backstory about why X classmate is German or why Y classmate lives in Myanmar, but nothing about that Israeli pianist. I do not think that Kuang was endorsing Israel intentionally, but I do indeed think that the mention is a throwaway mention, now that I've read the whole novel. What most likely happened is that Kuang watched an Israeli pianist play when she was actually in Taiwan and wanted to reproduce that in the story. I don't know, it's just a guess. My conclusion: the Israel mention is not, and was never, necessary on a plot or thematic level.
This book wasn't all bad, and there's a reason I gave it two stars instead of one. The first thing I respected about the novel is the quantity and depth of research put into the story, as with all of the author's works. A lot of attention was devoted to the intricacies of Mandarin and language-learning (especially for heritage speakers and immigrant children). This novel wasn't bullshitting when it claimed to be about language, translation, and heritage. The second thing I admired about this book was that it didn't pull any punches about establishing why this Chinese-American character had picked Taiwan to reconnect with Mandarin. A lot of time was spent discussing important topics like the difficulties of getting a Chinese visa as an American, as well as the question as to who, exactly, gets to feel like they "own" a language or place. Lily is not Taiwanese, and neither are her parents, and yet she feels as though she belongs in Taipei. The novel makes it clear how this can be problematic or an incomplete assessment about belonging when it comes from a privileged American, given Taiwan's complex geopolitics. I appreciate that this discussion was at the heart of the novel, as it showed a great level of care dedicated to the concept of homelands and belonging.
Overall, I was not happy with this novel. I wanted to like Taipei Story. I'm literally a translator. I love transnational fiction. I've been in language learning classrooms since I was eleven. I'd thought this novel was written for me! However, I'm just not convinced this was really a novel.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Review of advance copy received from Edelweiss+
When I first heard that Kuang was writing a novel called “Taipei Story,” I thought that was a stand-in title for a story she was writing that was set in Taipei; I didn’t realize it was actually the title of her next book! I was shocked when I saw the cover and realized that “Taipei Story” was, in fact, the title.
This novel didn’t initially sound like something I’d want to read as non-fantastical coming-of-age stories aren’t what I usually reach for, but I have read all of R. F. Kuang’s books so far and I will continue to read all future books she writes. I tend to like them, more or less. While I prefer her fantasy novels, I do really like seeing an author write in different genres, especially when they can write authentically about their experience. Kuang’s books feature Chinese characters and focus on moments from Chinese history or culture.
I feel like Taipei Story was an authentic portrayal of a what it’s like to be a Chinese-American student studying abroad in Taiwan for the summer and everything that entails, from difficulties with the nuances of learning a language to the suffocating humidity to the desire to explore the city instead of studying. I did a summer study abroad of sorts when I was in college (though nothing as intense as Lily’s program) in a foreign country that spoke a foreign language, and I could see a lot of similarities between Lily’s experience and mine. I do appreciate that this story feels authentic and realistic.
While I liked the overall story, I did not like that our protagonist Lily had no agency in this book. She let the entire plot happen to her; even if she didn’t like it and didn’t want it to happen, she did nothing to stop it. The hot springs scene made me realize this, and it honestly kind of disgusted me to read that scene. I wish that had never happened. Afterward, I felt like Lily was so detached and emotionless from anything going on around her. She did not connect with one other character in a meaningful way, and I really didn’t like that because it was not fun to read about her at times.
Taipei Story was rather depressing on the surface but had hopeful undertones, and I think that was the intention. Lily’s summer abroad is not going according to plan, but at least she’s learning Chinese so she can one day talk to her grandparents in their native tongue. We already know from the synopsis that Lily’s grandfather dies, and we get to see her live through that grief—not only about his passing but also about her inability to ever speak to him in Chinese and learn his story and history. The rest of the novel after his death is Lily grappling with this understanding and trying to find any sort of connection to him through learning Chinese language and history, but ultimately coming to the realization that her dream of hearing her gonggong tell his own story in Chinese will never come true. So yeah, that’s kind of depressing. But it was genuine in how it was written because her story is based on Kuang losing her own grandfather before she could connect to him in the same way.
In the end, though, I felt like I understood Lily. I understood her frustrations about learning a language she felt like she would never master while also taking pride in her being more fluent than other students she encounters. I understood her desire to connect with her past while also feeling like it wouldn’t matter for her life at all whether she developed that connection or not. I understood her love/hate relationship with her heritage and her family. I think a lot of people will read Lily’s story and understand her too.
Overall, I liked Taipei Story and I’m glad I read it, but I don’t think it’s a book I will revisit. I think it’s my second-least-favorite novel of Kuang’s (after Katabasis; I did not like that book). I would recommend this novel to anybody who has gone through a similar experience to Lily’s—whether that be losing a relative without being able to connect to them first, or experiencing a new culture and language for the first time. People interested in Taiwanese settings and culture will likely also enjoy this book. I’m looking forward to seeing what Kuang writes next.
Side note: I found out after finishing this book and reading some other reviews that apparently people are upset that this book contains mentions of an Israeli character. They are not a main character or a side character or even a tertiary character, they are only a background character. And people are mad at Kuang for writing this background character as being Israeli instead of any other race. Canceling an author or a book merely because it contains a character from a specific country of origin—that is racist, and there’s no other way to put that. Israeli people exist, both inside and outside of Israel, and they do not equal their government. The people do not deserve to be erased just because you disagree with the actions of their government.
I received a copy of this book for review from the publisher via Edelweiss.
This novel didn’t initially sound like something I’d want to read as non-fantastical coming-of-age stories aren’t what I usually reach for, but I have read all of R. F. Kuang’s books so far and I will continue to read all future books she writes. I tend to like them, more or less. While I prefer her fantasy novels, I do really like seeing an author write in different genres, especially when they can write authentically about their experience. Kuang’s books feature Chinese characters and focus on moments from Chinese history or culture.
I feel like Taipei Story was an authentic portrayal of a what it’s like to be a Chinese-American student studying abroad in Taiwan for the summer and everything that entails, from difficulties with the nuances of learning a language to the suffocating humidity to the desire to explore the city instead of studying. I did a summer study abroad of sorts when I was in college (though nothing as intense as Lily’s program) in a foreign country that spoke a foreign language, and I could see a lot of similarities between Lily’s experience and mine. I do appreciate that this story feels authentic and realistic.
While I liked the overall story, I did not like that our protagonist Lily had no agency in this book. She let the entire plot happen to her; even if she didn’t like it and didn’t want it to happen, she did nothing to stop it. The hot springs scene made me realize this, and it honestly kind of disgusted me to read that scene. I wish that had never happened. Afterward, I felt like Lily was so detached and emotionless from anything going on around her. She did not connect with one other character in a meaningful way, and I really didn’t like that because it was not fun to read about her at times.
Taipei Story was rather depressing on the surface but had hopeful undertones, and I think that was the intention. Lily’s summer abroad is not going according to plan, but at least she’s learning Chinese so she can one day talk to her grandparents in their native tongue. We already know from the synopsis that Lily’s grandfather dies, and we get to see her live through that grief—not only about his passing but also about her inability to ever speak to him in Chinese and learn his story and history. The rest of the novel after his death is Lily grappling with this understanding and trying to find any sort of connection to him through learning Chinese language and history, but ultimately coming to the realization that her dream of hearing her gonggong tell his own story in Chinese will never come true. So yeah, that’s kind of depressing. But it was genuine in how it was written because her story is based on Kuang losing her own grandfather before she could connect to him in the same way.
In the end, though, I felt like I understood Lily. I understood her frustrations about learning a language she felt like she would never master while also taking pride in her being more fluent than other students she encounters. I understood her desire to connect with her past while also feeling like it wouldn’t matter for her life at all whether she developed that connection or not. I understood her love/hate relationship with her heritage and her family. I think a lot of people will read Lily’s story and understand her too.
Overall, I liked Taipei Story and I’m glad I read it, but I don’t think it’s a book I will revisit. I think it’s my second-least-favorite novel of Kuang’s (after Katabasis; I did not like that book). I would recommend this novel to anybody who has gone through a similar experience to Lily’s—whether that be losing a relative without being able to connect to them first, or experiencing a new culture and language for the first time. People interested in Taiwanese settings and culture will likely also enjoy this book. I’m looking forward to seeing what Kuang writes next.
Side note: I found out after finishing this book and reading some other reviews that apparently people are upset that this book contains mentions of an Israeli character. They are not a main character or a side character or even a tertiary character, they are only a background character. And people are mad at Kuang for writing this background character as being Israeli instead of any other race. Canceling an author or a book merely because it contains a character from a specific country of origin—that is racist, and there’s no other way to put that. Israeli people exist, both inside and outside of Israel, and they do not equal their government. The people do not deserve to be erased just because you disagree with the actions of their government.
I received a copy of this book for review from the publisher via Edelweiss.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
੭୧ 5 stars . ۫
overall thoughts — I have been putting off writing this review because I don't know what else to say other than this was truly amazing!!! The haters can hate all they want, but R.F. Kuang really knows how to write about the Asian experience in such a raw, emotional, and painfully honest way.
Every single one of her books feels so intentional and emotionally sharp, and Taipei Story is no different. It follows Lily Chen during a summer language program in Taipei as she struggles to learn Chinese while trying to reconnect with her culture, identity, and family history. As an immigrant daughter who can understand but not fluently speak my heritage language, I FELT THIS BOOK DEEP IN MY BONES. The shame, the disconnect, the struggle, the fear of sounding unnatural - R.F. Kuang captured all of it perfectly.
She also absolutely hit the nail on the head with grief in this novel. What I loved most is that the grief here feels incredibly internal and realistic. So much of Lily's grief exists inside her own thoughts, memories, regrets, and the questions she realizes she can no longer ask. There's this constant feeling of loss hanging over the story, not just loss of a person but loss of connection, language, history, and understanding.
Some of the side characters are extremely unlikeable, but they're also just a group of young adults all struggling with their own insecurities and personal issues. Even Lily herself is not written to be a perfectly likeable protagonist. That being said, I was still rooting for Lily Chen every step of the way.
Something that really surprised me was the writing style. If you're expecting the style of Babel or even Katabasis, this was very different. The prose feels almost intrusive at times, like we are sitting directly inside Lily's head, experiencing every anxious thought and insecurity. For me, this style completely worked, and I found it very compelling! It made the story feel more intimate and realistic. I could not stop flipping the pages. I read this in one sitting 😭
I also know this book will not work for everyone, and honestly, I think that's part of what makes it interesting. People are going to experience this novel very differently depending on their own relationship with culture, language, identity, and family. R.F. Kuang's writing has always carried an academic quality to it, and yes, that is present here too, but I've always gravitated towards her writing BECAUSE of that. Her writing being intellectual does not make it any less emotional or compelling. If anything, I think it strengthens the themes she explores because there is so much intentionality behind every conversation and observation.
final thoughts — The more I sit with this novel, the more I love it. This one definitely did not disappoint me! I think the Yellowface enthusiasts can expect to love this one as well!! I still cannot believe I got the ARC for my most anticipated release of 2026 😭 YOU'RE KIDDING ME. Anyway, 5 stars (Are we even surprised??).
Thank you to R.F. Kuang and William Morrow for the ARC! Taipei Story releases September 8, 2026.
CW: grief, racism, death
────
finished: 05/09/26 𖥻𓈒 ꒱ ੭
manifested SO hard that i got the arc 😭 finished this a few days ago and basically read it in one sitting - full thoughts/review soon. this is definitely for the yellowface enthusiasts!
started: 05/06/26 𖥻𓈒 ꒱ ੭
ꗃ aapi read #2
overall thoughts — I have been putting off writing this review because I don't know what else to say other than this was truly amazing!!! The haters can hate all they want, but R.F. Kuang really knows how to write about the Asian experience in such a raw, emotional, and painfully honest way.
Every single one of her books feels so intentional and emotionally sharp, and Taipei Story is no different. It follows Lily Chen during a summer language program in Taipei as she struggles to learn Chinese while trying to reconnect with her culture, identity, and family history. As an immigrant daughter who can understand but not fluently speak my heritage language, I FELT THIS BOOK DEEP IN MY BONES. The shame, the disconnect, the struggle, the fear of sounding unnatural - R.F. Kuang captured all of it perfectly.
She also absolutely hit the nail on the head with grief in this novel. What I loved most is that the grief here feels incredibly internal and realistic. So much of Lily's grief exists inside her own thoughts, memories, regrets, and the questions she realizes she can no longer ask. There's this constant feeling of loss hanging over the story, not just loss of a person but loss of connection, language, history, and understanding.
Some of the side characters are extremely unlikeable, but they're also just a group of young adults all struggling with their own insecurities and personal issues. Even Lily herself is not written to be a perfectly likeable protagonist. That being said, I was still rooting for Lily Chen every step of the way.
Something that really surprised me was the writing style. If you're expecting the style of Babel or even Katabasis, this was very different. The prose feels almost intrusive at times, like we are sitting directly inside Lily's head, experiencing every anxious thought and insecurity. For me, this style completely worked, and I found it very compelling! It made the story feel more intimate and realistic. I could not stop flipping the pages. I read this in one sitting 😭
I also know this book will not work for everyone, and honestly, I think that's part of what makes it interesting. People are going to experience this novel very differently depending on their own relationship with culture, language, identity, and family. R.F. Kuang's writing has always carried an academic quality to it, and yes, that is present here too, but I've always gravitated towards her writing BECAUSE of that. Her writing being intellectual does not make it any less emotional or compelling. If anything, I think it strengthens the themes she explores because there is so much intentionality behind every conversation and observation.
final thoughts — The more I sit with this novel, the more I love it. This one definitely did not disappoint me! I think the Yellowface enthusiasts can expect to love this one as well!! I still cannot believe I got the ARC for my most anticipated release of 2026 😭 YOU'RE KIDDING ME. Anyway, 5 stars (Are we even surprised??).
Thank you to R.F. Kuang and William Morrow for the ARC! Taipei Story releases September 8, 2026.
CW: grief, racism, death
────
finished: 05/09/26 𖥻𓈒 ꒱ ੭
manifested SO hard that i got the arc 😭 finished this a few days ago and basically read it in one sitting - full thoughts/review soon. this is definitely for the yellowface enthusiasts!
started: 05/06/26 𖥻𓈒 ꒱ ੭
ꗃ aapi read #2
Want to Read
March 1, 2026beyond need right now
♡ signed b&n copies (available as of march 1st)
➛ Babel: An Arcane History ★★★★★
➛ Yellowface ★★★★★
➛ Katabasis ★★★★
1.) The Poppy War ★★★★
2.) The Dragon Republic ★★★★★
2.5) The Drowning Faith ★★★★★
3.) The Burning God ★★★★★
♡ signed b&n copies (available as of march 1st)
➛ Babel: An Arcane History ★★★★★
➛ Yellowface ★★★★★
➛ Katabasis ★★★★
1.) The Poppy War ★★★★
2.) The Dragon Republic ★★★★★
2.5) The Drowning Faith ★★★★★
3.) The Burning God ★★★★★
Want to Read
March 8, 2026IN R.F. KUANG WE TRUST
Want to Read
May 22, 2026Someone needs to enlighten me because I don't get it.... so are we not allowed to write in characters from contentious "countries" without adding a whole lecture about the evils of said country? If an author includes a German person in their book, does the MC need to have a whole internal dialogue about how much they disavow the holocaust? If a Japanese character exists, does there need to be a note somewhere about Nanjing and all their other atrocities across East and Southeast Asia? How about every American character needs to come with a repudiation of their nation's generations of interference and contribution to the downward spiral of the Middle East?
May 25, 2026
2.5/5 stars? it was like taking a diaspora 101 class. Kuang unfortunately did not have a magic system or clever hook to this story that could redeem the copy and paste protagonist or the lack of true substance behind her emotions (or the writing itself). we all gotta graduate someday, i’m just wondering when that’ll be for rebecca
Want to Read
April 30, 2026i don't usually put a lot of emojis or at all in my reviews but this is what i speculate:
the cover: 💓🎍🐼🌸🪷🥟🏮🧧🍙🎴
the story: 😨😨😨😵⚰️☠️💀😐🔪🩸
the cover: 💓🎍🐼🌸🪷🥟🏮🧧🍙🎴
the story: 😨😨😨😵⚰️☠️💀😐🔪🩸
September 8, 2026
I'm really not sure what this book is therefore it's a really hard book to rate.
If this is a non fiction looking at Chinese, Taiwan and Cambodian history, a close look at the Chinese language and cultural identities, this is a five star book. I learnt a lot reading this and it gave me a lot to think about in terms of learning languages, the language of families and the identities of those born outside of their parent's nation states.
If this is a fiction (which its pitched as) with characters and plot, this is a two star read. Our protagonist Lily is a real bore which is a shame. If Kuang was going for a nerdy academic type, that's fine but she could have been interesting and had a personality but sadly neither was there. The plot doesn't exist; nothing happens. The atmosphere is as dull as the humidity described in these pages.
My only take away is that Kuang should never write a blow job scene again as that was just terrible, and all the controversy over the Israeli character is clearly manufactured as its literally two sentences.
Interested to see what other reviewers think, did I miss something?
Three stars - middle of the road. Learnt about Taiwan but the novel itself hasn't left any impression.
If this is a non fiction looking at Chinese, Taiwan and Cambodian history, a close look at the Chinese language and cultural identities, this is a five star book. I learnt a lot reading this and it gave me a lot to think about in terms of learning languages, the language of families and the identities of those born outside of their parent's nation states.
If this is a fiction (which its pitched as) with characters and plot, this is a two star read. Our protagonist Lily is a real bore which is a shame. If Kuang was going for a nerdy academic type, that's fine but she could have been interesting and had a personality but sadly neither was there. The plot doesn't exist; nothing happens. The atmosphere is as dull as the humidity described in these pages.
My only take away is that Kuang should never write a blow job scene again as that was just terrible, and all the controversy over the Israeli character is clearly manufactured as its literally two sentences.
Interested to see what other reviewers think, did I miss something?
Three stars - middle of the road. Learnt about Taiwan but the novel itself hasn't left any impression.
Want to Read
February 6, 2026heard the news and got bricked up (im a girl)
Want to Read
October 27, 2025── ᝰ .ᐟ pre read.
"love story", i don't buy it entirely, but anything, and i mean it, for you, mother kuang.
"love story", i don't buy it entirely, but anything, and i mean it, for you, mother kuang.
Want to Read
March 9, 2026a coming-of-age story from ms. kuang ??!! SAY LESS WHATTTTT
------------------------------------------------
COVER REVEAL !!! IT'S SO CUTE
------------------------------------------------
COVER REVEAL !!! IT'S SO CUTE
Want to Read
March 6, 2026give this to me NEOWWW pls!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
2⭐ This is a series of short vignettes that are mostly touristy observations of Taipei with a lot of food reviews. There's a nice short essay from the perspective of the narrator's deceased grandfather lost in this book. There are so many em dashes! Kuang continues to faux mock the Ivy League schools.
The thing is Kuang has a lot of interesting thoughts she could write about but she keeps shying away from them. She clearly has a lot of feelings about desperately wanting to go somewhere specific, attend a specific school, be a specific person you make up in your mind, study a specific thing, and then hating the whole experience. She also keeps going back to the same friendship dynamic: "my friend turned out to not be my friend, actually my friend betrayed me and my friend hates a certain aspect of me that I cannot change,". It's clear she feels strongly about these things because she keeps writing about them in all her stories, but only marginally to the plotline and increasingly more superficially. The feelings are never addressed, never interrogated, she never really tries to get to the root cause or even to an outcome that isn't flat.
And I guess that's my issue with it all: it's all so very flat that the things that aren't feel very out of place.
An example of this is the part about the Khmer Rouge and their senseless killing which is fantastic storytelling and great writing. The weaving of the past into the present, the borderline impossibility of reconciling a past no one in your living family experienced with the reality that, nevertheless, parts of your family suffered through it and you'll never get to know more about them then what you can read in a history book and when do descriptions of mass graves bring comfort to anyone?
To any extent, it's pretty clear to me that this story started out as a story about an immigrant family, about a young girl finding her place in her own family and wanting to learn more about them before it's too late. On this front, Kuang intertwines that irreconcilable past with the present almost expertly: during a conversation with her mom in which the narrator finds out California Grandma is actually her mom's aunt and that she was the sole survivor of the genocide, Kuang brings the Khmer Rouge back seamlessly:
"And I saw that my question was indeed pointless, because the question wasn’t how they had died; it was how anyone could have survived that death march to begin with."
And in the middle of all of this she drops “So they sent you? As a replacement?” and no matter how many times you go back to read the whole section it is just as gutting as the first time. However it is one singular point of good storytelling in the whole book.
The crux of Kuang's story is the relationship between the family you know, the family you don't, and who you currently are. When you want to escape who you are and you think you can become someone else by getting in touch with a past that isn't yours. I'm not inferring nor am I reading too much into it; she puts it into words herself in a way that is deeply touching and unsettling yet so very simple and direct, the way only your immigrant family can be:
“I want to know where I came from.”
“But you didn’t come from that. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
And then she walks away from it! She has this beautiful story in her hands, this amazing foundation of emotion, and she goes back to her boring little language school to tell us more about spicy noodles and some TV drama I do not want to hear about. Later on she says something else that makes you think she could write a better story: "Chinese parents loved playing games like this: punishing you for the things they never taught you." So why doesn't she?
And listen, I may be too critical of this bland novel that I won't revisit and that, under different circumstances, I would have DNF after the first 30 pages. I stuck with it because, as a third culture child myself, I have also struggled through the great dilemma of wanting to know more about your grandparents' lives before you but not knowing how to start that conversation. And I wanted to see if she got me anywhere. She didn't.
Ultimately, what gets me so annoyed with this novel is that Kuang is simply not introspective enough to write this kind of story. It's clear she knows that she wants to write about it, but doesn't know what it is. Like the food thing. This novel goes on and on about restaurant food and convenience store snacks to the point where it sounds like I was reading a travel blog, but it never amounts to anything. The language aspect of it, the summer school, all of it that seems to interest Kuang more than the family dynamic itself, culminates into stuff like Interstitial 1, where I could physically feel Kuang wanting me to be emotional and wanting me to perceive the text as much deeper than it is on the surface. But it's all a mass of blandess that touches nothing in me.
I think Kuang really wanted to write a story about a young girl going abroad to learn her grandparents' language and, in the end, that's what damaged the much better story she clearly could have written, about how it feels to find your place in your immigrant family as a grown-up third culture child: both suffocatingly claustrophobic and like you're sailing alone on the big scary ocean in a neverending night.
The thing is Kuang has a lot of interesting thoughts she could write about but she keeps shying away from them. She clearly has a lot of feelings about desperately wanting to go somewhere specific, attend a specific school, be a specific person you make up in your mind, study a specific thing, and then hating the whole experience. She also keeps going back to the same friendship dynamic: "my friend turned out to not be my friend, actually my friend betrayed me and my friend hates a certain aspect of me that I cannot change,". It's clear she feels strongly about these things because she keeps writing about them in all her stories, but only marginally to the plotline and increasingly more superficially. The feelings are never addressed, never interrogated, she never really tries to get to the root cause or even to an outcome that isn't flat.
And I guess that's my issue with it all: it's all so very flat that the things that aren't feel very out of place.
An example of this is the part about the Khmer Rouge and their senseless killing which is fantastic storytelling and great writing. The weaving of the past into the present, the borderline impossibility of reconciling a past no one in your living family experienced with the reality that, nevertheless, parts of your family suffered through it and you'll never get to know more about them then what you can read in a history book and when do descriptions of mass graves bring comfort to anyone?
To any extent, it's pretty clear to me that this story started out as a story about an immigrant family, about a young girl finding her place in her own family and wanting to learn more about them before it's too late. On this front, Kuang intertwines that irreconcilable past with the present almost expertly: during a conversation with her mom in which the narrator finds out California Grandma is actually her mom's aunt and that she was the sole survivor of the genocide, Kuang brings the Khmer Rouge back seamlessly:
"And I saw that my question was indeed pointless, because the question wasn’t how they had died; it was how anyone could have survived that death march to begin with."
And in the middle of all of this she drops “So they sent you? As a replacement?” and no matter how many times you go back to read the whole section it is just as gutting as the first time. However it is one singular point of good storytelling in the whole book.
The crux of Kuang's story is the relationship between the family you know, the family you don't, and who you currently are. When you want to escape who you are and you think you can become someone else by getting in touch with a past that isn't yours. I'm not inferring nor am I reading too much into it; she puts it into words herself in a way that is deeply touching and unsettling yet so very simple and direct, the way only your immigrant family can be:
“I want to know where I came from.”
“But you didn’t come from that. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
And then she walks away from it! She has this beautiful story in her hands, this amazing foundation of emotion, and she goes back to her boring little language school to tell us more about spicy noodles and some TV drama I do not want to hear about. Later on she says something else that makes you think she could write a better story: "Chinese parents loved playing games like this: punishing you for the things they never taught you." So why doesn't she?
And listen, I may be too critical of this bland novel that I won't revisit and that, under different circumstances, I would have DNF after the first 30 pages. I stuck with it because, as a third culture child myself, I have also struggled through the great dilemma of wanting to know more about your grandparents' lives before you but not knowing how to start that conversation. And I wanted to see if she got me anywhere. She didn't.
Ultimately, what gets me so annoyed with this novel is that Kuang is simply not introspective enough to write this kind of story. It's clear she knows that she wants to write about it, but doesn't know what it is. Like the food thing. This novel goes on and on about restaurant food and convenience store snacks to the point where it sounds like I was reading a travel blog, but it never amounts to anything. The language aspect of it, the summer school, all of it that seems to interest Kuang more than the family dynamic itself, culminates into stuff like Interstitial 1, where I could physically feel Kuang wanting me to be emotional and wanting me to perceive the text as much deeper than it is on the surface. But it's all a mass of blandess that touches nothing in me.
I think Kuang really wanted to write a story about a young girl going abroad to learn her grandparents' language and, in the end, that's what damaged the much better story she clearly could have written, about how it feels to find your place in your immigrant family as a grown-up third culture child: both suffocatingly claustrophobic and like you're sailing alone on the big scary ocean in a neverending night.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
2.75 ⭐️
I love R.F. Kuang and I’ll probably read anything she puts out, so I was really excited for this one, but unfortunately this was pretty meh for me. I honestly don’t even know what to think about it because it didn’t really give me much to feel strongly about. I didn’t hate it, but I also never found myself invested in what was happening.
I did enjoy some of the language and cultural aspects, and I liked the parts about Lily trying to connect with her family and her Chinese heritage. There were definitely interesting ideas here, but I wish the book would've done more with them. A lot of things were introduced and then moved on from pretty quickly, so I never felt like any of it had much impact. Lily was also a character I never became attached to. The overall story just gave me nothing.
🎧 I listened to the audiobook, and I think Carolyn Kang did a really good job with it. I especially liked hearing the Chinese pronunciation.
I love R.F. Kuang and I’ll probably read anything she puts out, so I was really excited for this one, but unfortunately this was pretty meh for me. I honestly don’t even know what to think about it because it didn’t really give me much to feel strongly about. I didn’t hate it, but I also never found myself invested in what was happening.
I did enjoy some of the language and cultural aspects, and I liked the parts about Lily trying to connect with her family and her Chinese heritage. There were definitely interesting ideas here, but I wish the book would've done more with them. A lot of things were introduced and then moved on from pretty quickly, so I never felt like any of it had much impact. Lily was also a character I never became attached to. The overall story just gave me nothing.
🎧 I listened to the audiobook, and I think Carolyn Kang did a really good job with it. I especially liked hearing the Chinese pronunciation.
Want to Read
March 8, 2026── .✦ pre-read 𖹭.ᐟ
#2: i don't really like the cover atm but i guess it'll grow on me??
#1: I'll read anything this queen writes at this point <3 I am seated. GIVE IT TO ME RIGHT NOWWW!!!!
#2: i don't really like the cover atm but i guess it'll grow on me??
#1: I'll read anything this queen writes at this point <3 I am seated. GIVE IT TO ME RIGHT NOWWW!!!!
Currently Reading
September 11, 2026beating the illiterate allegations 🏹 + buddy read w ches ofc
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