From the celebrated author of Ghost Music and Braised Pork, a bewitching and atmospheric novel following two sisters in an isolated village as the sun begins to diminish above them
In Five Poems Lake, a small village surrounded by impenetrable deserts, the sun is slowly disappearing overhead. A young woman keeps one apprehensive eye on the sky above as she tends the pharmacy of traditional medicine that belonged to her great grandfather. She has few customers, and even fewer her older sister Dong Ji, her last living relative, works at a wellness parlor across town for those who can afford it—which, during these strange and difficult days, is not many.
Five Poems Lake had fallen on hard times long before the sun began shrinking, but now, every few days, a new sliver disappears. As the temperature drops and the lake freezes over, the population of the town realizes that they will soon die—if not of the cold and starvation, then of despair. When the Beacons begin to appear—ordinary people with heads replaced by searing, blinding light, like miniature suns—the town’s residents wonder if they may hold the answer to their salvation, or if they are just another sign of impending ruin. Soon, a photograph found in the possessions of their father, who disappeared mysteriously twelve years ago, will offer another clue in the mystery of the Beacons, and Dong Ji and her sister wonder if they may finally learn what happened to their father.
With a richly surreal sensibility that has earned comparisons to the work of Haruki Murakami, and anchored by searching curiosity and wisdom, in Sunbirth An Yu honors the unique relationship held between sisters and asks how much we can ever know about the deepest mysteries of the world.
An Yu (安於) was born and raised in Beijing, and spent parts of her life studying and working in London, New York, and Paris. She received her MFA from New York University and writes her fiction in English. She is the author of the novels Braised Pork (2020), Ghost Music (2022), and Sunbirth (2025). Her writing has also appeared in The Sunday Times Style, Freeman’s, Literary Hub, The Wall Street Journal, among other publications.
She currently lives in Hong Kong and teaches creative writing at City University Hong Kong.
My first An Yu novel and surely not my last! Thank you to Grove Atlantic for the early review copy. I was completely absorbed and compelled by this strange and thought-provoking story, exploring themes of hope, survival, family and home.
Five Poems Lake is an isolated community surrounded by desert, from which no one really leaves, and if they do they are never heard from again. The sun is disappearing sliver by sliver, and at a seemingly more rapid pace as of late. Our unnamed narrator lives in the family home behind their pharmacy from which she dispenses cures for ailments to the townspeople, while across town her elder sister works at a wellness spa providing treatments to the rich. As the sun continues to dim and the temperature drops, the community members adapt to their surroundings and go on living their lives. But as the sun reaches its end, strange events start to occur in which people's heads burst into their own miniature suns. These Beacons begin appearing all over town and draw a connection to the events surrounding the death of the the sisters' father a dozen year ago.
This was a beautifully written novel that explored the themes in this almost surreal setting. The characters developed slowly on the page and came to seem so realistic in their conflicting attitudes with each other and even at times within themselves.
This, at its heart, for me was a novel of paradoxes: of knowledge versus ignorance, of optimism and pessimism, the resignation towards fate versus free will, of empiricism versus superstition, and the collective mindset versus individualism.
There are no answers. This isn't a mystery that when solved reveals WHY but only WHAT and HOW. In the face of 'unprecedented times' (a phrase anyone alive for the last 5, 10, heck 30 years has heard enough) what do we do? Can we do anything? Is it worth trying to change or better to accept 'what is'? Sometimes even the desire for knowledge is presented as altruistic but is inherently selfish. We want to KNOW so badly about things we simply can never know, and in that struggle, that back and forth seeking to know, we miss what's right in front of us. It doesn't mean we don't try but only rethink how we go about it so as not to alienate ourselves from the things we need most. What those things are, ironically, are up for every individual to decide.
What I love about this story is how it can be interpreted in so many ways. These were only my thoughts that came about while reading this story. It's strange and enchanting and dark and surreal, and one that showcases a fine talent for crafting thematic and character driven stories with a unique flair.
I liked author An Yu's book "Ghost Music" quite a bit, and I really enjoyed this one, too. It was very strange, just the right amount of weird. Yu didn’t explain everything, but she also didn’t leave me frustrated and wanting answers at the end, either. The basic gist of the story is that for the last twelve years, the Sun has gradually been disappearing. Recently, this phenomenon has started to accelerate. The days are growing darker and colder. No one knows why, and now some people are turning into Beacons, meaning that their heads are replaced by balls of light. The description of how this transformation happened was pretty unsettling.
There were some pretty long chapters, but I didn't mind that since the writing was good. I was invested in the story and the mysteries that unfolded, and I loved the relationship between the two sisters. Yu writes excellent dialogue and beautiful prose. Reading this felt dreamlike and oddly cozy even though the actual story was kind of bleak and had some depressing moments. I thought it was so intriguing! I know this review is short, but I don't have a whole lot to say other than I liked it and I plan to read Yu's "Braised Pork" soon.
A few lovely passages:
“The familiarity of his voice was like the comfort of an orange light at night.”
“What a paradoxical state of existence we’re in, where our minds can stretch across dimensions, deep into reality and far into fiction, assign meaning to everything, yet our bodies are so small and limited that I can’t touch the roof of my room. Even a marble could kill us if it hit the right spot.”
“Perhaps we can only be whole when we can stop feeling responsible for another person’s happiness. Until then, we will continue to rip ourselves into shreds and give those shreds away in the name of love.”
Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own and all quotes could have changed between my copy and the book's release.
4.5 stars. Just published on 8/5!
Biggest TW: Death of Family Member, Stalking/Harrassment, Suicide
All my anticipated releases of August are letting me down. Sunbirth promises a dystopian setting where the sun is slow disappearing, but fails to build off the premise in any meaningful way. What one reader may call ambiguity could easily be coined as an utter lack of world building — we know the village is isolated from the rest of civilization, yet the citizens are able to be fully self sufficient. They somehow have fuel, livestock, imports and an independent economy that somehow, despite the sun going away, has survived the last dozen years without much issue. There’s still a thriving wellness industry and wealth differential between characters which also is not explained in any way.
I read the first 55% of this and felt no momentum or direction behind the plot. The characters are bland, the mystery doesn’t have high stakes, and the dystopian premise ultimately feels like an afterthought. It’s easy to explain away every narrative element as a symbol or metaphor, but there’s nothing for the reader to grab onto. It boils down to hopeful speculation and trying to assign meaning to a story devoid of anything concrete.
Admittedly the last 45% might offer some more intrigue, but based on the reviews I don’t think it’s personally worth me sticking around for. If you’ve finished this, you’re welcome to DM me and spoil the ending xoxo
Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC. In Sunbirth, the reader is drawn into a world quietly unraveling under the weight of an impossible reality: the sun is vanishing. Not in a sudden, apocalyptic burst, but in gradual, unnerving increments; 5%, then 10%, then 20%; until, inevitably, it disappears completely. It is this slow erosion of light, and the psychological toll it exacts on a town left to witness it, that gives the novel its haunting power.
What makes Sunbirth remarkable is not the scale of its premise but its restraint. There is no hero’s journey, no scientific solution, no divine intervention. The townspeople, trapped under a dimming sky, respond not with rebellion but with the quiet, desperate gestures of people trying to preserve normalcy against a tide of cosmic indifference. They adjust their lives each time the sun weakens—changing routines, revising rituals, hoping that order can withstand entropy. But as light recedes, so too does reason, structure, and cohesion. People panic. Some vanish. Those who leave the town are never heard from again, swallowed by an uncertainty more terrifying than death.
The novel’s metaphysical response to this disintegration comes in the form of the “beacons,” people who, in a desperate bid for meaning, choose to become suns themselves. These “sunbirths” burn brightly, briefly, and are never seen again. Whether their act is one of transcendence or annihilation remains unclear. But their emergence reveals something deeply human: a longing to reclaim agency in a world that denies it. In fearing immortality beneath a dying sky, they chase mortality as a kind of rebirth. The paradox is chilling: to seek light through burning.
The writing itself mirrors the novel’s emotional and philosophical terrain. It is poetic, even elegiac, but never overwrought. The prose moves with the rhythms of twilight; measured, melancholy, intimate. Magical realism is not an aesthetic flourish here but a natural expression of the story’s inner logic. The boundary between the magical and the real is fluid and seamless, evoking a world where the impossible is not questioned but absorbed into daily life.
Sunbirth does not offer closure. It does not promise renewal or redemption. Instead, it gives us something rarer: a quiet meditation on helplessness, on waiting for an end that cannot be avoided, and on the fragile, flickering ways people try to make sense of that darkness. In a literary landscape saturated with spectacle and salvation, Sunbirth dares to dwell in stillness, and that is its most luminous achievement.
Sunbirth is the story of Five Poems Lake and its inhabitants as the sun begins to disappear, leaving two sisters to wonder what will happen when the sun is gone and whether an old photograph of their late father holds the key to the mysterious beacons who begin to appear.
Sunbirth is a strange, surreal novel that explores the bonds of family along with trying to come to terms with death of self, family and world.
I found this book quite fascinating although the end seems to tail off into ambiguity and I wasn't clear on what message (other than family and home are important) I was supposed to glean from it.
The writing is good and it certainly kept my interest for most of the novel. The characters are all quite sympathetic, drawn with a very light touch.
It felt, by the end, that you were simply left to make your own mind up about what each significant event meant.
An interesting novel that would appeal to fans of Murakami or Kawakami.
Thanks to Netgalley and Vintage Digital for the advance review copy.
‘Sometimes,’ I said, ‘goodbye isn’t something you say out loud.’
An Yu cemented her place in my list of official favourite authors with her third novel: a brilliantly lyrical, magical realist story of the lives of an isolated village community in the dimming light of a vanishing sun. Part quiet apocalypse, part deeply personal exploration of grief and longing; all together a masterpiece that I adored.
The Story: “Of everything that had vanished over the past twelve years, I did not miss much. Five Poems Lake had been in decay long before the sun began to disappear.” In Five Poems Lake, a small village surrounded by impenetrable deserts, the sun is slowly disappearing overhead. It started slowly, 12 years ago; a dragged-out apocalypse that has grown into disastrous shape incrementally. A young woman keeps one apprehensive eye on the sky above as she tends the pharmacy of traditional medicine that belonged to her great grandfather. Together with her last living relative -her sister-, she grieves the loss of her dad, who disappeared mysteriously twelve years ago. Their stories of grief and desire for illumination and enlightenment, join with those of the other town-inhabitants, against the backdrop of an ever-darkening world.
What I loved: An Yu is a master of magical realism and quietly melancholic atmosphere. The small town of Five Poems, lit by the light of a dying sun, forms such a visceral backdrop to the personal stories that play out beneath it. Although this is by no means a horror-story, or even your typical apocalyptic tale, the image of this isolated twilight-town haunted by people spilling light from their open mouths is absolutely haunting in itself. I have to admit that it took me a little bit to grasp what the author was going for with the metaphors, but once it clicked it felt its effects in my bones. When it comes to the true meaning: Yu leaves much up to interpretation, yet not for a lack of clarity on her part. Rather, she weaves so many themes into her narrative that all tie into each other, and make for a valid interpretation for the reader to pick from. She balances themes of grief, desire, generational secrets, the desire for answers and understanding (regardless of the pain to yourself and others this might cause), and a desperate search for legacy and the divine at the end of the world. It creates a nesting-doll of small, intertwining apocalypses; the end of a life, the end of a community, and the ultimate isolation that brings, even when all of it is happening at the same time.
I want to highlight a single line, that to me perfectly encapsulates the meaning of the Beacons, and how they tie in to overwhelming grief and fear. It’s this line that made a lot of the story click for me, because I’ve felt this feeling before.
I just had to sit with that one for a little bit…
I can see how some readers might be frustrated by the ending. If you’re primarily focused on the mystery aspect (which clearly is there, but takes the backseat), you might not come away fully satisfied. Although some answers are found, there’s no clear climax or resolution to the things that truly matter. The story flickers out like a candle, not with a bang, but with a whimper. And frankly, I feel that’s the only way a story like this could have ended. I highly recommend this book, specifically for fans of Emily St. John Mandel or An Yu’s previous works. Expect this one to make an reappearance on my favourites-list at the end of the year.
Many thanks to Grove Press for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
This book wasn't really for me but I can definitely see that it will be for others. I read and loved Ghost Music so I was really looking forward to Sunbirth, but unfortunately I found myself on the edge of DNFing the whole time and kind of wish I had.
Sunbirth is set in a fictional village near a lake called Five Poems Lake. Our main character is a pharmacist and her only other living relative is her older sister. Small pieces of the sun have been disappearing for 12 years a little at a time, until suddenly they are on the verge of the sun disappearing completely.
The prose is uncomplicated but beautiful - something I also loved about Ghost Music.
I love the premise of this story but just didn't find myself wanting to pick it up. I felt very disconnected from the characters and the plot and there wasn't really much driving us forward. It all felt very hopeless (which I realize is kind of the point), but I don't think I was in the headspace to appreciate it.
Maybe this would've worked better for me as an audiobook?
*Thank you to Grove Press and Netgalley for the free digital ARC in exchange for an honest review*
Thank you to Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for providing a free ARC of this book.
Sunbirth paints the picture of a world where over the course of a decade, piece by piece, the sun has been disappearing. Set in Five Poems Lake, cut off from the rest of the world by surrounding desert and circumstance, it follows the life of a young woman trying to run the pharmacy she inherited from her grandfather. Things take a turn when more of the sun disappears, and townspeople with lights for head start showing up.
The real strength of this novel is its premise and setting. An Yu adeptly and vividly describes the daily life of someone living through the mundane and yet inexplicable, the end of a world that's taking its sweet, sweet time. You get a look at people of all different creeds and walks of life, and how they've managed to cling to some level of normalcy - or not - when the sky itself is a constant reminder that nothing is the same.
Unfortunately, I don't think that the setting and premise of this book were utilized to anywhere near their potentials. This was a struggle for me to get through, and I was frankly bored for the majority of this novel. The pacing really struggled throughout - I would be begging for anything to happen for a long stretch, then a huge plot point would come out of nowhere, and then nothing impactful would happen for another long while. It felt to me that a lot of the interesting developments in the plot were left to the wayside to instead focus on inane conversations between one dimensional characters.
Character development was lacking throughout. As the overall situation gets worse, people do seem to change, but it's hard to get a sense of this since they didn't have much personality to begin with. Throughout the story, and even in flashbacks, people act erratically and in ways that seem to go against what was written about them previously. This could be seen as some commentary on human nature and reactions to otherworldly events, but to me it was just sloppy and jarring.
The biggest issue I had was that the plot of the disappearing sun really took a back seat to the relationship between the protagonist and her sister. I have no issue with exploring relationship dynamics like this, but given that the title, the cover, and the description all promised an intriguing mystery about the disappearing sun, I hoped that I would at least get that. Instead, there’s no rhyme or reason to the environmental catastrophe taking place, or the strange phenomenon of people with lights for heads. Nothing is explained, or even really hinted at, and the majority of questions asked throughout remain open and unsatisfied.
Some readers may find comfort in the descriptions of little parts of the day, or beauty in the dynamics of a relationship between two sisters who were both separated and brought closer by loss, or some interesting observations about the nature of humanity in desperation. At the end of Sunbirth, I was just left wanting.
I have read An Yu’s two other novels (Braised Pork and Ghost Music) and I feel like with each book she’s getting better. Sunbirth blew me away. It is the right mix of atmospheric, surreal and fast-paced.
*
The sun is disappearing. Days are getting darker and colder, but nobody knows why the sun shrinks. There won’t be coming any help either. Beyond the city limits of Five Poems Lake is nothing but a vast, unforgiving desert. The few who dared to venture into it are never to be seen again.
The protagonist, a young pharmacist, tries to live her life under the disappearing sun as well as she manages to. One night, she gets attacked by one of her delivery drivers. Before the attack gets physical, the driver’s head turns into a miniature sun: a beacon. Scared and bewildered, the protagonist confides to her sister and a family friend, a young police officer who worked with her deceased father, who was also a police officer. As strange things keep on happening, she tries to find out the truth about her father’s death many years ago and how it might be connected to the beacons.
*
In her third novel, An Yu manages again to suck me into one of her strange worlds. The story heavily relies on the three dimensional characters and their relationships to each other, but is plot-driven at the same time, which is not an easy feat. The descent into surrealism is slow at first, but then accelerates. While sometimes surrealism seems to be a tool to appear “artistic”, this is not the case here. As proven with this and her two other novels, An Yu is a master of the surreal. It is playful at times, atmospheric at others, but always effortless. Yes, not everything is happening logically, but it moves with the narrative so fluidly that it becomes addictive.
A very odd story but strangely compelling. I wasn’t sure if I overly liked the plot, but was drawn back by the prose and characters.
I wish there was a bit more world building and history. It seems kind of like a future earth with a large self sustaining community cut off from the world by desert surrounding the Lake District.
We never find out if there are others beyond the wasteland, and as the story progresses, it isn’t clear why the sun is disappearing, or why the Beacons are appearing.
By the end, I was still left with a lot of questions, but the mysteries kind of added to the story I suppose.
Thank you to NetGalley, the author, and Grove Atlantic for a copy!
What a strange novel. Did I get a story of environmental collapse? Nope, but at one point, with all the disappearing sun and decay of the built environment, I thought I did. Did I get a story about a family and grief? Nope. But at one point, it certainly seemed like it was. Did I get a whodunnit? No, but there's a narrative thread dedicated to discovering the cause of death of one character. Did I get a bizarre, magical realist set-up? I did, but what it actually meant and what was its function in the novel remains a mystery to me. I'm very curious about other An Yu's novels now.
3.5-4 Stars, still thinking about it, but leaning towards the lower end. Very beautifully written, definitely more character driven although there were definite tense plot moments. Some plot points that were presented were lacking or underdeveloped in my opinion. I think maybe it would not have been as much of a disappointment towards the end for me if there wasn't so much tense escalating build up that disenchantingly to me, then fell short in the follow through. Definite strong themes of sibling relationships throughout the book, the importance of home and family, and the questioning of individualism vs socialism and our obligations to not just ourselves but to each other.
A strange and surreal that left me wondering what it all meant but at the same time I enjoyed the read. A town isolated and cut off from the rest of the world (although there’s no way of knowing if there is anything out there!). It has a lake and is surrounded by desert and people do try and leave by walking off into it. But the main weird thing happening is the sun is gradually disappearing and now some people’s heads are turning into beacons of light…. Yeah it’s weird but it also focuses on two sisters and their relationship, family and memories.
Thanks to the Publisher and NetGalley for the eARC.
In the small town of Five Poems Lake that nobody seems to be able to leave, the sun has been disappearing slowly for years. And now, as the sun is about to vanish completely, people’s heads all over town turn into miniature suns, leaving the human underneath some kind of mindless zombie. A young pharmacist and her sister have to figure out what to do and what their late father might have had to do with what is happening now.
What an interesting book! Where do I even begin? The story started out very slow, this was somehow helped by the very straight forward, almost plain but very deliberate writing style. Which also really fit the unnamed MC, in whose POV most of the story is told . It only picked up at around 40% when we were introduced to the girl’s father and what happened before he passed and what that might have had to do with what is happening in the story’s present. Then things started to happen in quick succession before we slow down for the last few pages and slightly abrupt, weirdly but delightfully hopeful end… At no point while reading this did I have any idea what could be happening next, at no point did I feel like I knew this story and the characters. It was a ride! Very unique story with heavy themes of grief, sibling bonds, the connection of guilt and a sense of duty, environmentalism, home and identity… All well done, I thought, and with fresh thoughts on them. I have to say, the sisters that raised each other, same same but different, and were not able to let each other go hit way too close to home for me.
I might not be sure what it all meant, what really was going on, but I enjoyed this book a lot. I loved the writing style, the subtle but effective world building and the human connections. There was no character I didn’t like and root for or whose motivations I did not understand. In a story where nothing is as expected, this is quite an accomplishment. I might come back to this and edit after some more thought. Thought is needed.
First, thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the E-ARC. *5 STARS*
Let's get this out of the way: I adored this book so consider this review biased.
In SUNBIRTH, the residents of Five Poems Lake are really just trying to get by. Only, the Sun seemingly disappears overhead, and the already-inhospitable desert that isolates the village becomes a snowy wasteland. Residents grapple with realities like crop failure and plummeting temperatures with no choice but to continue on; work their jobs, go home. At the same time, our protagonist and her sister, Dong Ji, become entangled in the mystery that has unfolded in parallel (or contrast) to the disappearing sun: the emergence of "Beacons," people whose heads are overtaken by small, roaring blazes.
What unfolds is a multi-POV account that weaves past and present beautifully. The dynamic between sisters is convincing, and the love between them is so complicated, at times messy. The protagonist is almost painfully self-aware, and has the ability to see intense things with a great distance while experiencing them. This, in contrast to her strong-headed sister, creates a dynamic main cast full of small idiosyncrasies that feel like their own. Set against the backdrop of magical realism imagining of an apocalypse scenario, it is all very hypnotic.
The writing is just so great. Just really pared down and intentional use of language. The descriptions of light were just so luscious. I scribbled down so many quotes and took so many pictures of passages. Once the book is published, I will come back and share some favorites. Anyway, I am a huge fan of An Yu now, which gives me a couple more books to read!
In the middle of the desert, in the desolate and indiscriminate town of Five Poems Lake, live two sisters of Chinese ancestry. Surrounded by sand and without roads out, the local people fear the looming threat of their sun’s complete disappearance. The first sliver vanished 12 years ago, and the residents do their best to continue resiliently living their normal lives, maybe to a fault.
But the younger sister, the unnamed main character narrating the novel (let’s call her 妹妹), recognizes the untenable belief that their future, livelihood, and perception of reality itself should not warrant more attention. Perhaps 妹妹, who runs her family’s pharmacy, demonstrates a particular care about the sun’s absence because the girls also mourn their Ba’s absence. Soon after the sun began to lose its wholeness, Dong Yiyao died unexpectedly, and his fellow police officers couldn’t figure out the cause (efficient cause) of his death in the lake. 10 at the time, 妹妹 remains inquisitive towards her respectable Ba’s and the sun’s life.
One evening, Driver Hua catches 妹妹 on the street and begins disputing with her. She’s trapped, and he’s over-served. When he intends to assault her, 妹妹 witnesses the most curious phenomenon: light pours out of Driver Hua, alighting his face, and his head becomes a sun. At first a random occurrence, soon more townsfolk transform into Beacons. Together, 妹妹, Dong Ji, and their long-time friend, Gao Shuang, try to solve the case concerning Dong Yiyao’s untimely death and how it’s linked to the Beacon activity. However, time may not be on their side; the increase in Beacons causes (material? final?) the sun’s decrease.
The gang eventually discovers that Dong Yiyao witnessed an emotionally distraught man and a girl seeking freedom transform into beacons 12 years ago. To protect his family and his people from this fate, Ba drowns in the lake with the beacon girl. But when 妹妹 and Dong Ji find the buried photograph Ba took of the beacon man, the idea resurfaces as well, and reality follows.
Sunbirth is a sci-fi, mysterious, and maybe dystopian sister story with perhaps more themes than I’ve been able to puzzle out. I limit my listed ruminations: (1) What does the sun (whole and partial) symbolize? (2) What’s the significance of one’s ties to home in the story (i.e., no roads out, no one who leaves returns)? (3) Are the ideas of transcendence and reincarnation in this world? (4) Does the author critique (a) our (the reader’s) stewardship of the environment or (b) how society can look away from dire circumstances?
I may have more questions than answers, even after finishing and sitting with the novel. But I appreciate the lingering uncertainty that Yu uses to keep readers’ attention. And, to keep the story approachable, the author smartly creates a likable character in 妹妹. The chapters written to give Dong Yiyao’s perspective caught me off guard; I wondered if there could’ve been a smoother way to insert the needed information he offers, such as through YeYe instead. I haven’t decided if the town’s arid setting stifles in a welcome way or not. I rate Sunbirth 3.5 stars.
My thanks to Grove Press and NetGalley for an ARC.
With its unfamiliar premise of the sun disappearing a fraction at a time, juxtaposed against the universal themes of sisterhood and family bonds, this sparse novel of 256 pages delivers a strange combination of a very powerful yet gentle reading.
Since An Yu's first novel (this is her third), I have been a fan. In my opinion, this is her best work till date, though I have immensely enjoyed her Braised Pork and Ghost Music as well.
All her works till now have been strongly rooted in magical realism and surrealism. This infuses an uncertainty or uniqueness to the plot as well as in the life of the protagonists, in An Yu's novels, which provides the impetus to the protagonist to steer through their existential crisis.
In Sunbirth, we meet two sisters—one runs a family apothecary and the other works at a massage centre. They live in a village called Five Poems Lake (what a beautiful name, right? There is a backstory for this nomenclature). It's not easy to leave this village. The sun is disappearing from their sky, one sliver at a time, at an uncertain speed and with it is receding the sustainability of life under this sky. This leads the novel towards the traces of a dystopia as well, but only mildly so. However, the author has more in store for her readers; the uncertainty in the lives of the sisters multiply as they tumble upon facts that hint at their father's involvement in the bizzare happenings of the town—which the readers will discover by and by.
What do we hold on to at the time of uncertainty? Hope for the future? Love? Family?
How is a family born?
Sunbirth will make a reader dwell on these questions.
For some readers, the ending may leave a bit wanting if their focus is more on the setting of the novel instead of on its emotional landscape. My take is that the speculative setting of this novel is not an end in itself but a means to navigate the emotional landscape of its characters and in that, the ending is perfect.
I am a huge fan of Haruki Murakami's works, and in An Yu's earlier works, I could see a lot of Murakami-esque elements; comparison with Murakami is almost inevitable when a novel embraces magical realism or surrealism to a heightened degree. Of course, this didn't not take away anything from the richness or the originality of An Yu's books or talent, but personally I have always been hoping that An Yu would ultimately create a niche COMPLETELY unique to herself in the realm of literature infused with magical realism and surrealism—because a very few can have such an easy yet skilful command on these genres, and she's one of those few. Sunbirth seems like a firm step towards An Yu's own niche of literature.
With the end of Sunbirth, now I await her next novel.
Let me end this review with gratitude to publisher Grove Press and Net Galley for the happiness that came my way in the shape of the early and free copy of Sunbirth they made available in exchange for a honest review. To be noted that this super-enthusaistic review of mine is unbiased and is a reflection of my reading experience and love for this author.
Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic | Grove Press for providing me with the ARC. For a book called Five Poems Lake you expect there to be some poetic writing, but it was so dry and mundane. The magical realism is so minimal, the characters had a little development, but not enough to keep me invested. I’m basically the most disappointed by the writing; it was a torture reading this. Endless conversations, dull and meaningless. I guess it’s a ME problem, I just don’t like that type of writing; the plot moves very slowly with a lot of fillers. I love a dystopian story, but just didn’t vibe with that one.
3.5/5 stars. Thank you to NetGalley for the arc! This book is pretty character driven, so if you're expecting a lot of action, maybe go elsewhere. The main thing that kept me from rating this book 4 stars are the plot holes and unanswered questions. I love ambiguous endings and questions in some books, but not when it's the important plot points that are not being addressed or explained. Rather than being left open to interpretation or things that can't be explained, these just felt like abandoned plot lines. The concept itself was pretty interesting though, and it kept my interest for the most part.
Thank you to Grove and NetGalley for providing me an eARC to review!
After enjoying Ghost Music more than I was expecting to, I was interested to pick up something else from the author and this really seemed up my alley. Unfortunately I just had a really hard time getting into it - the concept of the sun disappearing and how that affected the Earth and humanity was interesting, but I feel we didn't get enough out of it to keep that interest going.
Similarly with the Beacons - objectively a cool concept but I just didn't feel compelled to learn more about them. Everything felt like it was happening at a distance or in the background so I didn't feel connected enough to the characters or the events, and when we changed perspective to the father what interest I had pretty much completely dropped off.
I would maybe recommend to someone looking for a book that leans more literary/contemporary but with some dystopian elements informing the setting, otherwise it didn't quite live up to what I was hoping.
I’m a sucker for speculative fiction with a sci-fi twist, and Sunbirth’s concept immediately hooked me. A world where the sun is slowly disappearing? Yep right up my alley.
An Yu absolutely nailed the atmospheric world-building here. Five Poems Lake becomes this haunting, almost living thing throughout the story. The sun, the mysterious Beacons, they all felt more real and interesting than the actual human characters, which is both impressive and kind of a problem.
Where this book lost me was in making me care about the people living through this whole situation. Despite the story focusing a lot on the two sisters and their family mystery, I just wasn’t that invested in it.
The pacing felt on and off, and while the book set up some really intriguing mysteries, the payoff didn’t quite hit the spot for me.
That said, the atmosphere alone is worth it. If you’re more into mood and concept than getting emotionally attached to characters, this will probably work way better for you than it did for me. Sometimes a really well-crafted world can carry a story even when the people in it don’t quite work.
"Sunbirth" is a literary fiction novel that incorporates elements of magical realism. It explores themes of sisterhood and grief, set against the backdrop of a small desert village where the sun gradually disappears over the years. As this phenomenon unfolds, the villagers' heads transform into miniature suns, giving them a zombie-like appearance.
Although the premise is quite unusual, Yu's (Ghost Music) writing effectively addresses serious topics such as grief and sexual assault, which are central to the story. However, as the narrative progresses, it attempts to tackle too many different themes and ideas, resulting in an ending that feels unfinished and disjointed. Yu's (Ghost Music) style and storytelling evoke comparisons to authors like Sayaka Murata and Bae Suah.
While "Sunbirth" is primarily character-driven, its inconsistent pacing leads to unrealistic character development. Some arcs feel rushed, while others drag on. The setting is consistently well-described and detailed, making it easy and enjoyable to follow. Overall, I cannot recommend this book due to the inconsistencies in writing throughout, which can make it difficult to follow. Thank you, NetGalley and Grove Press for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I really enjoyed this book, although it's one of those challenging literary novels that would take the right reader to appreciate it. The young female unnamed narrator lives with her sister, Dong Ji, in the small town of Five Poems Lake, a place where no one can ever seem to leave. The narrator lives a quiet, small life as a pharmacist. Her father, a policeman who cared too much to be good at his job, killed himself a decade ago, under strange circumstances.
The sun is disappearing sliver by sliver until it vanishes completely and people's heads start turning into blazes of light as they walk around like zombies. They are called Beacons. The story vacillates between the eco climate weirdness of dystopian life under permanent darkness and all the strange ways that humans react to that. Then it delves deep into the complicated relationship between the sisters who each struggle to deal with parents who have abandoned them and how to live the life they choose as an adult when their childhood was stolen from them.
The prose isn't poetic, but it's simple and spare in a way that tugs at you and satisfyingly builds dread. This is a character rather than plot driven story in which not much happens and the characters often don't seem to have much agency.
But I was captivated and this book made me want to check out An Yu's back catalog. She has an intriguing perspective and a weird fiction style in the vein of Melissa Broder.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance review copy. I am leaving this review voluntarily.
What a beautiful book. I didn't go into Sunbirth with any expectations, as I haven't read An Yu's other works yet. All I know is that I have to read An Yu's other novels now that I've finished Sunbirth.
Set in the dramatically isolated community of Five Poems Lake, the residents are left to make sense of their world as their sun starts to disappear, sliver by sliver. Most of the storyline revolves around the unnamed protagonist, who is a natural health pharmacist, and her sister Dong Ji. There's much for them to process: the mysterious death of their father, the disappearing sun and, alarmingly, the seemingly sudden appearance of Beacons.
Created through a sudden 'sunbirth', Beacons are humans who, for lack of a better term, have their heads turned into burning lights. If you're liking the sound of this - and generally enjoy books with magical realism - you'll love Sunbirth.
An Yu's writing has already drawn comparisons with a personal favourite of mine: Haruki Murakami. I can see why. This book is surreal but also completely accessible; there's no pretense, nor are readers told what to think or feel. Instead, Sunbirth is a book that is endlessly open to interpretation, and this is what I love most about it.
Thank you to An Yu, the publisher and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this eARC.
This is the sort of book that makes you ask so many questions and gives very little answers; the point of the story is not the why and the how of the way the earth was seemingly being thrown into chaos, but the way life continues on all the same even within it. Something that An Yu touches on in this novel, and that I absolutely adore in a story, is the demonstration that even when the unthinkable happens in the form of the sun disappearing, life goes on. Stores are still ran, the buses still follow their routes, and people keep going.
Even in a world where the sun disappears for unknown chunks at a time, where people's skulls bloom into light, where they live in a city isolated and surrounded by desert - the characters still have their relationships to maintain. Set in such a fantastical situation, the bonds between these characters felt palpable and real. The exploration of familial bonds and impacts on each other's lives is explored in a tender manner while also trying to figure out how to carry on when you don't know what the next day might bring. Yu's prose is straightforward, and sometimes even stark, giving you a blunt picture of the town of Five Poems Lake. If you are looking for a grand story about the end of the world,. this book isn't for you. It is quiet, intimate, and at times open ended, just the way real life often is. I cannot recommend this book enough.
Thank you so much to the publishers and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review! I really enjoyed my time with this novel.
Ghost Music by An Yu was a five-star read for me. I was therefore exciting to see what Sunbirth had to offer. Unfortunately, Sunbirth did not grip me in the same way Ghost Music did. I'd really connected with that earlier work right from the first chapter, but this time I didn't feel the same immediate pull. It may simply be that the themes of Ghost Music spoke to me more. Sunbirth was a novel with an interesting premise, and I was intrigued by what would happen as the sun disappeared and what the Beacons would come to represent. The tie-in with the mystery of the sisters' missing father mostly worked well, but after all these questions and the build-up, I found the ending a little disappointing. As such, I am giving this book 3.5 stars. It was certainly a fascinating premise and had some interesting things to say, but overall it didn't thrill me in the same way Ghost Music did, so it's that earlier work I would recommend to readers new to An Yu's writing, rather than this one, as a starting point. Although, I allow that personal interests and preferences when it comes to the themes and ideas in the two books could play a part in my views.
I received this book as a free eBook ARC via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.