Thanks to the publisher for access to this book. It was a gift to read this author's writing, and take a trip to Mongolia in my mind.

I absolutely love Quan Barry's work, and I was so excited to read this title.
This story follows a Mongolian novice Buddhist monk who joins the search for the next young reincarnation of a great lama, along with several others.
In a way the story is like a quest, but I found myself learning a lot about Mongolia and its distinct sect of Buddhism as well.
I loved the pacing and plot as well as the cast of characters. I found I wanted to linger as I read so that I could absorb the book better.
I cannot wait to recommend it to readers looking for something different.

Quan Barry’s outstanding new novel, When I’m Gone, Look for Me in the East, is a perfect example of one of the reasons I read fiction. In this engrossing story, we walk along (sometimes literally) with protagonist Chuluun as he, accompanied by his twin brother, two fellow Gelug Buddhist monks, and a woman servant from a monastery in Ulaanbaatar look for the resurrection of one known as the One for Whom the Sky Never Darkens. It’s a journey full of doubt and questions and dharma and, just maybe, enlightenment. This book is so beautifully written, so realistic and so human, that I was nearly moved to tears by the end.

Twenty-three-year-old Chuluun has lived in a Buddhism monastery in remote Mongolia since he was a child of seven or eight. Chuluun tells us—and shows us in flashbacks—that he ended up at Yatuu Gol because the rinpoche believes that his twin, Mun, is the reincarnation of a great monk known as the Redeemer Who Blows the Conch in the Darkness. Chuluun is scooped up with his brother as the Servant to the Redeemer Who Blows the Conch in the Darkness. Yet, we know from the beginning of the novel that Mun rejected life as a monk and relocated to Ulaanbaatar. Mun’s resistance and occasional disdain for Buddhism becomes an important antithesis to Chuluun’s quest. In Gelug Buddhism, as far as I can, tell, great spiritual people are sometimes reincarnated as tulku. The Dalai Lamas, the Panchen Lamas, and hundreds of others are tulku. When one of these men or women is about to die, they leave clues as to where they will reincarnate. It is up to others to find them. Children believed to be tulku are tested to see how much they remember of their previous incarnations. If they pass, they are folded into Buddhist monastic life. As we see with Mun, it can be a bewildering, frightening, and stressful existence that shouldn’t be foisted onto anyone who doesn’t understand what it means.

Unlike Mun, Chuluun is a believer, although he is wracked with feelings of unworthiness. No matter how hard he strives, Chulunn still feels flashes of sexual desires. He wavers between returning to Yatuu Gol, where he will need to defend his faith and take on the mantle of full priesthood, or giving everything up to live in the secular world. There is a lot of pressure on Chuluun to become a fully-fledged Buddhist monk. Even though this book is set somewhere around 2015 (I think, I’m not sure of the math), Buddhism is only recently emerging into the light after decades of Stalinist repression. Not only is Chuluun fulfilling his own destiny, he’s also a representative of his faith in a newly democratic nation.

Around all this rich characterization and narrative, Barry draws us a living portrait of rural Mongolia. As Chuluun narrates (all in the present tense, which is an amazing way to incorporate his efforts to live in the present into the text), we visit not only Ulaanbaatar, but the shamanic nomads of Khövsgöl Province, the Muslim eagle hunters of Bayan-Ölgii, and the arid fossil grounds of the Gobi desert as they seek the One For Whom the Sky Never Darkens. Chuluun frequently comments on the eternal sky and the way that the legend of Chinggis Khaan still inhabits the land. He shares stories from his pre-monastery boyhood living in gers with his grandfather, father, and twin and their herds. Although Chuluun might doubt his ability to be a priest and monk, he never doubts that he is Mongolian.

All of the wandering and questioning comes to a head during a sandstorm in the Gobi, in a transcendent moment that left me awestruck. The ending alone is worth the price of admission to When I’m Gone, Look for Me in the East, but I would’ve loved this book even if it had had a completely different ending. This is a truly magical book that, like few others, offers us an immersive, emotionally honest opportunity to experience someone else’s life.

I read When I'm Gone during the dark days of Omicron and it really helped my head escape reality. I mentally took a break in Mongolia (and a bit beyond) to witness sheep rustling, violent horse birth, and a sky burial. I probably didn't fully understand the Buddhist elements in this book but I enjoyed it as a novel. (I received an ARC of this book from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for my honest opinion.)

A beautiful, lyrical road narrative that spans Mongolia following a party searching for a reincarnated Buddhist lama. The central story concerns a pair of twins with a rift between them and a simmering crisis of faith. Although there was a clear trajectory for the main narrative, there was a sense of the meandering throughout the landscape that I found particularly compelling. It seemed well-researched, although I am not really qualified to comment on that aspect. I love Quan Barry's writing and was very invested in this book.

This is an exceptional book that is beautifully written.
The story of two twin brothers trying to unite their strength to find a reincarnation of a lama while travelling through Mongolia. The narrator tells the quest for the lama framed in his Buddhist learning and acceptance while he encounters many people on the journey. At the same time, the reader gets an idea about the life, history, and people in Mongolia. It is also a story about journeys to find oneself. A worthwhile, interesting, and different read.

This is definitely a more involved read that was imaginative and beautifully written. The chapters are short and the story sometimes is long winded but it is thoughtful book that asks the deeper questions of life. I enjoyed the story immensely. Thanks to NetGalley and the Publisher for the ARC.

A slow meandering book about twin brothers who study to become monks. One disavows the order but reunited with his twin to find a reincarnated lama. The reason the brother left the order is revealed in the end, but along the journey, the reader learns about Buddhism and the history of the Mongols.

When I’m Gone, Look For Me in the East
By: Quan Barry
Pub. date: February 22, 2022
Review date: October 24, 2021

Many thanks to Knopf Publishing Group & to NetGalley for allowing me access to this arc in exchange for my honest opinion.
Going into this, it would help greatly if you already knew something about/were interested in Buddhism. I didn’t know much but I stuck with the book, basically learning about/ picking up bits of information as I read..I did enjoy the story, though, and would Absolutely recommend to Anyone interested in Buddhism & the Mongolian way. I’m giving 3 stars to When I’m Gone, Look For Me in the East.
#WhenImGoneLookForMeInThe East #NetGalley

This one was different from anything I’ve read in a while, and I don’t mean that at all as faint praise. It’s the story of a Mongolian novice Buddhist monk who joins the search for the next young reincarnation of a great lama, along with two other monks, a (Buddhist) nun, and his twin brother, who has left the order after years in the monastery as a child recognized as a reincarnation himself. In addition to being the tale of a quest, with a lot of interesting background on Mongolia and its distinct sect of Buddhism, the narrator is struggling with his faith, and his feelings about his twin’s loss of faith—the tension between religion and secularism is a subject that always interests me, and the fact that this isn’t framed in a Judeo-Christian context makes it especially interesting. It might help to have at least a passing interest in Buddhism to enjoy this one, but maybe not.