Book Review: Linghun by Ai Jiang (2023)
(This review is spoiler-free.)
Dark Matter INK
Linghun is a novella of immense humanity that contains more depth and emotional energy than would seem possible in its short length. It could be simplistically viewed as a story of grief, and how it imprisons the living in the arms of the dead to the detriment of those who remain, but to leave it at that would be deeply disingenuous; Linghun is about the frailties of the human heart, the marrow-deep ties that marry our lives to those of others, and the unhealable pain that results when they are severed. It is about the tiny hinges that change the course of a person’s life, and homesickness we feel for a place which we are ever-seeking.
Coming HOME
Wenqi and her parents have just moved to HOME, a town where people have given up their friendships, their familial ties, and their personal aspirations in the name of seeking something unthinkable anywhere else. The houses are old and filled with dusty, antique furniture, the yards and gardens are dead and tangled, and the schools marked by peeling paint and outdated lessons. Few in the community seek to befriend their neighbors, and even when this happens, they are kept at arm's length. More concerning are the packs of bedraggled, unhoused peoples–called lingerers–who occupy every lawn while their eyes watch homeowners with envious hunger. Yet the properties in HOME are among the most desirable of any, for within their walls the dead can return to their loved ones and seemingly live anew.
Wenqi and her parents have acquired a residence in HOME thanks in part to a family member’s debt. Spurred by her mother, they seek Wenqi’s brother, Tianqi, who loved Pac-man and pancakes, but died when he was six-years-old. He appears at the hour of his death a few days after they move into their new house, as well as every day thereafter, and the family is seemingly whole again.
But for Wenqi there is no joy in this reunion. She sees Tianqi’s face as distorted, his features blurred as though behind frosted glass. His voice comes through crackling and distant. He is forever a child, still lost to her despite her mother’s implorations that all is well. Feeling alienated at home as her parents withdraw, Wenqi turns outward, where a strange lingerer boy named Liam watches her from the yard, and across the street, a lonely old woman known only as ‘Mrs.’ stands at her window, clutching an urn.
Soon, both Liam and Mrs. intertwine themselves with Wenqi, the former as a friend and the latter as their family’s gardener. But each has their secret desires, their motivations beyond passing time in HOME, and Wenqi will have to navigate the subterfuge of each.
Later, when she attends the auction of a residence in HOME, Wenqi witnesses an eclectic realtor named Tania hold a riotous, violent court over the desperate and the bereaved lingerers who wish to bid for a home. The experience of what transpires–and revelation of how most residents acquire their properties–leaves her traumatized, and Wenqi resolves to return to the outside world, with or without her family.
Place as Character
This was my first read for Dark Matter INK debutant Ai Jiang, a Chinese-Canadian immigrant author and recent postgraduate at Edinburgh University. In both Linghun and the selection of short stories I read in support of this review, I was deeply impressed with the stylistic strength and quiet command she has over her prose and characters. Not a word is wasted, and every paragraph leaves the reader with something to reflect on; it’s a smooth alchemy of Shirley Jackson, Ursula Vernon, and J.M. Coetzee. The writing is remarkable for a young author, and I have complete confidence that her future in the literary world will be especially bright.
I think the most complementary thing I can say about Linghun is that it is one of those pieces of fiction that is so rich and imaginative that it invites the reader to reflect on and consider the places and characters apart from the scope of the story. At times, I found myself pondering Wenqi, her mother, and the character of Mrs. as the continuation of the same woman in different stages of her life, and in a perpetually evolving relation to HOME. Wenqi is oriented to her past, seeking to escape the town and return to the outside world. She finds no solace in HOME, no reconciliation or restoration, and the family she came there with is effectively estranged from her as the weeks and months pass. Her mother is firmly affixed to the present, born anew and given breath only by the reunification with her son, even if all around her see that the miracle is incomplete. Finally, Mrs., despite being the oldest character and the one who has spent the greatest amount of time in HOME, longs only for the potential promise of her future, when her husband might return to her despite his long and inexplicable delay. These three women remain distinctly individuals who, despite their stark differences, are collectively defined by their relationship to HOME and its mysterious connection with the dead.
Jiang has done something truly masterful here in that she leaves just enough blank space on the pages, and just enough secrets in the novella, for the curious reader to seek layers of meaning which may have not been intended or expected. This is a line only the best authors can walk, and it imbues their fiction with a timelessness and sense of resonance that many readers will find affecting, and the right reader might just call perfect.
Of and Apart
While her writing is exceptionally solid, the structure of the novella may alienate readers who struggle to embrace more literary and speculative titles. While we see chapters from the perspective of Wenqi, Liam, and Mrs., the town of HOME itself may be the most important character in this work, for it is what defines and directs those who dwell there. No one is immune or apart, and even those who seem to escape bear the weight of their time there.
Much like the residents and lingerers of HOME, readers should not expect closure, as this novella has no intention to give it. At the end, our characters will be broken and diminished, revenants who despite the actions they took and the course they set will be tragically human on the final page. There is a sadness here, but also a stark return to reality in what has otherwise been a uniquely fantastical work. Like HOME, it is a story both part of and apart from this world, readers may come away still wanting to explore further.
Verdict: 9.3/10
Strengths:
Deeply human forces underpin the plot of the story, making it both resonant and memorable
Exceptional prose by any standard; the fact that is comes from a young author makes it doubly exciting
Uniquely creative concept played out smartly
Weaknesses:
Not for readers who demand every loose end be tied, every corner be lit; Linghun ultimately keeps its secrets
Weight of the story may ultimately depend on the acuity of the reader; this will not be a bestseller, but it will linger with a particular stripe of reader
You can pre-order Linghun here. And you should.
