There is almost a majesty, a level of awe reading An Yu’s books. “Ghost Music” was another distinctive and exceptional piece of literature, and again one I was not ready for when I read its last pages. This may been, on the outside as a book simply about the breakdown of marriage and yearning for passion, and the desire to move on and forward. It is more about what is said in the silence, the quieter moments that speaks volumes about the despair in Song Yan’s heart and soul.

The mushrooms and fungi that appear on Song Yan’s doorstep infiltrate her life. They break down walls in conversation and release tendrils of thoughts and emotions that have been buried sown so low, un-nurtured and unheard. There is so much connection made between life and death: the mushrooms come to life and impart their goodness. The death of a music career, the death of a father in law, the death of a famous pianist, the death of her husband’s son: and in the darkness and silence the life of SongYan away from her husband is challenged. The mushrooms are almost a metaphor for that adaptability: to push Song Yan to adapt to a life away from what she knows, and look outside of her small domain to find solace, truth and understanding, and enjoy the silence.
This book is a mystery, it is enigmatic, and for that, it is to be savoured.

When faced with a decision to either pursue her dream of being a concert pianist or settle down, Song chooses to get married and hopes to have children. But 3 years later her MIL has moved in, her husband is perpetually traveling for work, and Song spends her time teaching piano lessons to local children. After a series of strange dreams, mysterious mushroom deliveries, and a letter from a famous pianist who disappeared some years earlier, Song finds herself becoming more disconnected from her life. Or perhaps she is only becoming more aware of her own past failure to see her life clearly. There will be a lot of apt comparisons to THE VEGETARIAN - it definitely has the same eerie, surreal feminist vibe and quiet prose that pulls you in from the first few pages. I do think quite a bit of this went over my head, but it was an enjoyable read nonetheless.

I loved the writing of this book, and the storyline was kinda interesting however I found it hard to care about the story at large. At times I just wanted to skip some parts of the story until it got interesting again. Overall, a very solid book and I can’t wait to check out the author’s previous novels.

Thank you to Netgalley and Grove Atlantic for sending me an advanced copy.

The premise of this book was promising, and I thought would hold my interest, but I'm afraid the magic realism elements took away from my enjoyment of what could have been a very interesting story. I always struggle with magic realism, so probably not the ideal reviewer for this book. As a musician, I, could identify with some of the insights and outlook of the main protagonist.

Thank you NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for the ARC

Ghost Music is an enticing read that will have you continually turning pages to find out what is going to happen next. Yu sets forth a plot that is very simple in the onset; however, as you make your way through this small novel, it becomes apparent that each layer added is what makes the story so immersive. I find that it was very easy to sympathize with the protagonist, Song. In the same breath, it is very easy to become aggravated and dislike her husband, Bowman. I found myself perplexed by the introduction of the mushrooms early on in the book; however, I felt let down towards the end of the novel because the answers those posed never felt truly resolved. I commend the writing in this story in regards to the connection to music. This idea is what drew me to this arc. As a music teacher and a previous music student, I can sympathize with a lot of the qualms that Song expressed through the novel, musically speaking. I found that her connection to music and that of the others shown in the work does a solid job in emphasizing the different paths and spectrums studying music can put someone through (in regards to a mental space). I always found that sometimes, personally, if I would dive in too deep, then it wouldn’t feel as real anymore- just as it was expressed throughout this work. The relationship between husband and wife brought the drama- kept me on my toes. However, I also felt that this was left kind of open and up in the air. Which was a let down as it built up so nicely throughout the novel. Overall, I find that this is a strong contemporary fiction novel, but I found myself having many questions at the end. I give Ghost Music 3.5 stars.
-Genesis M.

Ghost Music by An Yu is a surreal meditation on life that asks us to question reality and whether reality even matters in life when it is all just our perception of reality anyway. This is a book about a woman who is questioning how to give her life meaning when nothing seems to give pleasure or purpose. The silences between the characters speak of lives lived in isolation from one another even when they occupy the same room. Grief and past trauma hinder the ability the live in the present. Ghost Music is a novel for readers who like some weirdness in their world while still being able to see the humanity in it.

I received this from Netgalley.com.

A .. "novel of art and expression, grief and survival, memory and self-discovery" .. Song Yan is lonely and searching for answers.

Like Song Yan, I can relate to loneliness and the need to have a purpose in life. Although the writing is very good, I'm not a huge reader of magical realism and felt confused by the imagery in this story and frustrated by the ending.

3☆

Song Yan gave up on her dreams of a concert pianist years ago and now teaches young students in her apartment while her husband, Bowen works as an executive at a car company and rebuffs her requests to have a child of their own. When her mother-in-law comes to stay, she campaigns on Song Yan’s behalf for a child, and she sees an opportunity to bond further when a package of mushrooms from her mother-in-law’s home region of Yunnan. Each week they arrive, and eventually a letter that will Song Yan on a weird journey to an abandoned house.

Though it wasn’t what I expected, I really enjoyed this book. Not as much weird fiction as I’d imagined, and more literary fiction, it’s still got some surreal bits, and I appreciated that. The poetic prose is beautiful, and I found myself pausing more than once just to admire the choice of words and beautiful language. I was with Song Yan through her journey and got especially invested once she began visiting the house and for the strange journey that came afterward.

It’s not super long, and if you like meditative, beautifully crafted book, I definitely recommend checking this one out. It’s out on January 10th wherever you get your books.

Years ago, I read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning; Frankl’s thesis has never left me. Everyone has something that motivates them, whether it’s family and friends, knowledge (me!), a successful career, etc., etc. Whatever that thing is can help folks get through the worst adversity. The trick is to find that thing. In An Yu’s novel, Ghost Music, we see characters wrestling with the realization that they made a mistake when they chose their life’s goal. What happens when you spend years pursuing something only to find out that it’s not what you wanted after all?

Song Yan has what some people would consider a good life. She and her husband have a comfortable life in a Beijing apartment. It would be more comfortable if Song Yan’s mother-in-law hadn’t just moved in. Her mother-in-law’s demands for a grandchild push Song Yan’s husband into surprising rages while leading Song Yan to question whether she’s really happy teaching piano, cooking, cleaning, and keeping an eye on her elderly mother-in-law. When Song Yan’s husband, Bowen, elects to leave on longer and longer work trips, Song Yan’s life begins to crumble.

And then there are the mushrooms.

I had to think about the literal mushrooms in the book and the possibly metaphorical mushrooms that have conversations with Song Yan to try and understand what they might represent. Shortly after Song Yan et al. settle into their apartment, they start to receive packages of rare mushrooms from Yunnan, where Bowen and his mother are from, that they never ordered. The women are able to create amazing, fragrant, filling, tantalizing meals from the mushrooms. The meals are good enough to keep Bowen coming home in spite of his anger at his mother, at least for a while. The mushrooms stop arriving shortly after Bowen finally loses his temper and leaves on a very long business trip. The imaginary(?) mushrooms that Song Yan talks to push her even further into questioning everything about her life. They and the misdirected mushrooms even lead Song Yan into tracking down a famous pianist who disappeared ten years prior to the opening of Ghost Music.

I think the mushrooms represent self-reflection and the happiness that can come with seeking personal truth regardless of social expectations. It’s a bit of a mouthful but every time Song Yan makes the decision that it’s okay to eat the no doubt expensive mushrooms that were intended for someone else or to talk to the mushrooms no one else can see, she finds some kind of pleasure and personal meaning. Sitting down to a good meal and eating mindfully can be a decadent experience, especially if you’ve been rushing around tending to everyone else. Following the name on the packages leads Song Yan back to the music she left behind. (She was raised to think that if she couldn’t be a concert pianist there was no point in pursuing the art anymore.) The conversations with the possibly-a-sign-of-mental-collapse mushrooms are disturbing and uncomfortable, but they make Song Yan pause all her other routines long enough to break her free from her unexamined and unfulfilling life.

Ghost Music is not an easy read. It’s hard to watch someone self-destruct the way Song Yan does. The reward at the end—seeing Song Yan finally living for herself—is well worth it, I think.

3.5 stars. For a relatively short, readable novel, Ghost Music packs quite a literary punch.

This is the story of Song Yan, a concert musician turned piano teacher who lives in a Beijing apartment with her workaholic husband Bowen and his mother. When she begins receiving shipments of fresh mushrooms from an anonymous sender, she and her mother-in-law bond by cooking them into dishes for Bowen. But when a letter arrives in place of the mushroom shipment, and buried secrets from Bowen's past come to light, Song Yan finds herself adrift in her city and drawn into a mystery surrounding a famous pianist who disappeared a decade ago.

It sounds bizarre, and it is -- and I didn't even mention the orange mushrooms that Song Yan begins conversing with. This is the type of book that not every reader is going to connect with; it's an esoteric fever-dream that doesn't really have a cohesive plot. But for whatever reason, it kept me riveted. An Yu's writing is bright and insightful, full of poignant, quotable passages about the complexities of relationships, loneliness, and self-discovery.

More than anything, Ghost Music is a surrealistic character study of a discontented yet optimistic young woman. It's quiet, contemplative, and fascinating -- and yes, sometimes it's pretty confusing. I'm certain that a lot of the symbolism went over my head. It's a good length for the type of book that it is, but I did end up wanting just a bit more out of Ghost Music: deeper character development, more cohesion and resolution. Nevertheless, any book that can introduce a talking mushroom on the first page and then go on to make relevant, universal statements about modern womanhood is a book worth reading, in my opinion.

"The mind is more brittle than many of us wish to believe."

Ghost Music is a tale of loneliness, grief, self-discovery, and a sense of great loss primarliy told through the eyes of Song Yan, a young wife trying her best to cope with her fast-changing life. She has given up on certain things in favour of some others only to be left second-guessing her past decisions. Well, when you realise that you do not really know your husband of three years, self-doubt is bound to make its presence known.

All characters including Song Yan could have flourished with some more depth, but that would possibly make this one a lot more heavier than it is. As it stands, things majorly stay surface-level for the characters, but the reader sure is left with enough curiosity as to where the story leads. As with most Asian stories, the open-ended hope of a fresh new beginning lends a belief of everything being just alright.

Thank you @netgalley for my advance copy. While it took me quite some time to finally begin reading this one, it didn’t take a long time to finish it.

I thought this was quite an odd little novel. I couldn't actually tell who was real and who was a ghost. The writer's prose is atmospheric and will suck you in. The story, however, was strange. Song Yan has lived in Beijing for the past 3 years with her emotionally absent husband, Bowen. She teaches piano in instead of becoming a concert pianist, like prodigy, Bai Yu. Her mother-in-law moves in w/ the couple as she has lost her husband. Song Yan starts to find out all these things about Bowen that he never told her. Nothing as mundane as an affair. However, he did have a prior wife, which he left when she had his son. He never told his mother he had a son, nor Song Yan. In fact, he keeps putting off children to the annoyance of his mother and Song Yan. According to his mother, he also had a sister, but they couldn't keep her because they were so poor. This may account for Bowen's workaholic tendencies.
Song Yan and her mother-in-law start to receive deliveries of mushrooms from the Yunnan peninsula, which is where the mother-in-law is from. After the deliveries stop, Song Yan receives a letter from the famous (and reclusive) Bai Yu, as the sender of the mushrooms. Therein follows a strange existential relationship.
Honestly, although, I enjoyed the story, I was kind of thinking what's the point of this? I probably wasn't the best audience for this one.

*Special thanks to NetGalley and Grove Press for this e-arc.*

If I want to use one word to describe the book i will say it is 'Bizarre', but in a good way. The book is about a young woman, Song Yan, who gives piano lessons to children. She gave up on her career as a concert pianist, and wants to have kids with her husband Bowen who works in a car dealership company and feels he is too busy in his career progression to be having kids. On top of that she has to accommodate her mother-in-law, who came from the province of Yunnan (famous for it's variety in mushrooms) but there are some long-buried family secrets that are unveiled because of this situation.
I don't want to tell more of the plot because I feel that the best way to go into the book is by knowing as less as possible. This is not a very plot centric book but rather focus on a complexity of relationships that Song Yan is tangled in including her complex feelings with music itself and the choices she made so far. There is an airiness as you advance the story and subtlety in the undertones of the events that follow. There is almost a dream-like-state in the narrative and at times you will be confused as to what you are reading is in reality or in a dream.
People who will enjoy this book:
Readers who don't mind dreamy atmosphere, absurd character, unexplainable mysticism, more nuanced relationships will definitely enjoy this book. I would suggest this book to friends who have enjoyed the vegetarian by Han Kang.
Readers who will not enjoy this book:
This is definitely not a cozy mystery. There are trigger warning for death and related subjects so I would advise people suffering from mental health to be cautious while reading this. Readers who want a proper closure or an ending would definitely not enjoy this book as this doesn't offer that; nether does it offers any explanation of its airiness that we follow in the book.
Overall I find the book to be more interesting in the beginning but gets a bit slow towards the end. Overall I like the writing and the undertones but I wish there was a bit more of that towards the ending. Overall I gave it 3 stars.
Lastly thank you to Net Galley and Grove Atlantic for giving me the opportunity to enjoy this book as an avid reader in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated! #GhostMusic #NetGalley

A woman in Beijing gives up her promising career as a concert pianist to start a family with an annoying guy who finds his job more important than her, who treats her badly, makes his mother move in with them, doesn't want to have children and has been keeping important secrets about his past.

The woman is annoyingly passive about all of this, avoiding confrontation even though she is deeply affected. Strange things start happening to her, mostly to do with mushrooms (dreams with speaking mushrooms, mysterious mushroom deliveries). And then there is a piano prodigy, presumed long dead, who gets in touch with her.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as interesting as it may sound and I grew less convinced as the story progressed. I didn't feel in safe hands.

I do not mind a surreal story now and again and (without wanting to generalise) I often find Asian novelists particularly good at credibly integrating bizarre elements, but here their function was unclear to me.

I was hoping to love this book more than I did. While the writing was out of this world, and the premise was intriguing initially, something prevented me from fully immersing myself in the story. I wondered why, what if, how, and what was even going on multiple times. There were surreal and bizarre moments, yet there were also moments of tranquility and comfort when I could relate to Song Yan (the main character). I felt a bit like an outsider, and although this could have been the author's intent, I found it distracting. However, I wonder if it has to do with solitude and loneliness being such significant themes in this story.

Despite not fully loving the storyline, stylistically, I really enjoyed reading this. I enjoyed the descriptive yet simple and beautiful writing. It definitely made me intrigued by the author's first book, Braised Pork, as well as other books they may write in the future.

Thank you to NetGalley, Grove Atlantic, and Grove Press for providing an eARC in exchange for an honest review.

my thanks go out to the publisher and netgalley for providing me with an advanced e-arc in exchange for an honest review.

I definitely overall enjoyed this one, however, a lot of its meaning also went beyond me and the weird stuff didn't always work for me.
It feels very slice of life and there is a nice flow to the story. I did feel compelled to continue on and find out how the tense home circumstances would resolve themselves.
But somewhere along the lines, the turns this book decided to take just didn't work as well for me.

I really liked the beginning half of this but I found the latter half so hard to connect with. I was totally invested in everything that was happening and I can't quite pin point where it went wrong but especially the last 30 pages felt like such a slog for me. Even with that I really enjoyed the story and I think the ending does it justice I think it just lost me a little bit. Maybe I will be give it a re-read in the future!

Story of the book-

The hesitant sounds of Song Yan’s youthful piano students have filled the emptiness of her Beijing apartment for the last three years. Her husband Bowen, an executive at a car manufacturer, has consistently refused her requests to have children even though she gave up her job as a concert pianist many years ago. Even after his mother arrives from Yunnan in southwest China and starts pushing for a grandchild, he continues to fight. Song Yan finds it more difficult to maintain her typically calm manner as the level of stress in the home grows, especially because she is plagued by nightmares about a chamber without a door from which she can’t leave and where the sole inhabitant is a peculiar orange mushroom.

Song Yan sees a chance to connect with her mother-in-law when a delivery of local mushrooms from her mother-in-province law mysteriously arrives. As the parcels continue to come every week, the ladies stir-fry and grill the mushrooms and add them to soups and noodles. Song Yan’s reality starts to veer even further into the weird when a letter from the sender of the mushrooms shows up in the mail. She is called to an odd, apparently ageless mansion that is tucked away in a hutong in the center of the crowded metropolis, where she discovers Bai Yu, a once-famous pianist who vanished ten years ago.

My review-

Ghost Music is a beautiful and eerie story about art and expression, sorrow and survival, memory and self-discovery that brings modern Beijing to life through the eyes of a lonely but optimistic young lady and provides the possibility of fresh starts rich color and texture. I adored the text; it was lovely but very controlled, and it frequently brought to mind certain magic realism. This book’s melodic approach draws you in and helps you pay attention to the finer details of life and the purpose behind it all. Beautiful, medium-paced prose that occasionally veers into the weird but not enough to turn off this reader who dislikes fantasy.

Although there is a narrative, the focus is more on the trip than the resolution of many of its issues. I enjoyed following Song Yan throughout the book as she evaluated her life and feelings in light of the various revelations about those around her, interspersed with her strange interactions with the orange mushrooms. Song Yan was a character I immediately identified with, and it was a pleasure to follow her throughout the book. Ghost Music explores how we come to terms with those in our lives who have passed away, as well as apparent occurrences that never took place.

In conclusion, Ghost Music was a charming, exquisitely drawn book that is also a short fantasy/magic realism read. I liked how long it was, and I felt the surrealism was very nicely done. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and will read another An Yu book in the future. Although I thought the characters were fascinating, I was still left wanting more. Although I thought the author did an excellent job of giving them personality, they ultimately came off as distant and underdeveloped. You should read this novel with a great lot of disbelief because of its surrealist style. Throughout the narrative, Song Yan expresses a sense of loss, although she is unsure of what exactly she has lost. That emotion perfectly captures the conclusion for me as well.

'Ghost Music' by An Yu observes the life of Song Yan, a woman living in Beijing who isn’t satisfied with the direction her life has gone in. Having given up on becoming a concert pianist after enduring years of demanding training, she now teaches young children how to play the piano. Her dissatisfaction is the culmination of passive-aggressive comments and behaviour towards her, stemming from cultural expectations. She is told that she isn’t fulfilling the duties of a wife – since she teaches other children instead of cooking for her husband and has failed to seduce him into wanting a child – and lacks emotional connection or support from her husband, Bowen. The tension within the household, combined with the delivery of mysterious parcels of mushrooms, leads her to follow a letter to a residence upon request. There she meets Bai Yu, a piano prodigy who disappeared from the spotlight years ago. Bai Yu has a request: that she plays a piano piece to prove that the feeling he once felt as a pianist can still be recreated. Song Yan fails the first time and, intrigued by the sudden reappearance of a celebrity from her concert piano days, has a reason to return to the old piano and try again until she gets it right.

The characters and plot line are promising. The author characterises Bowen as a man who sees no issue with spending all his time at work and makes zero effort to spend time with Song Yan. He deflects, grumbles and is cagey about his reluctance to have a child. Song Yan’s mother-in-law takes her frustrations about her son’s coldness out on his wife, which genuinely frustrated me as well as Song Yan. As for our main character . . . for someone encountering a phantom from her past, she has this very strange desire to prove herself capable of fulfilling Bai Yu’s request in spite of the abstract, vague criteria he sets out for her. Amidst all this, she periodically encounters a talking mushroom. Which, actually, isn’t as far-fetched as one might imagine. As readers, we’re somewhat accustomed to stranger dream sequences, and this is akin to an 'Alice in Wonderland'-esque encounter with a peculiar guide.

Something I’d like to highlight is that An Yu writes about longing very well. The most charming points of the story were often times when characters spoke of their hometown or memories associated with cuisine. Though these were few and far between, and not always recounted in the most positive circumstances, the sense of displacement from every character in this story felt tangible. Displacement brings people together in strange ways – temporarily bridging rifts to cook nostalgic food or contacting someone who hurt you to tell them about the state of your home. It becomes a part of their identity, their being and their worldviews.

What I found regrettable was how nothing felt used to its full potential, and there was no satisfying character growth. No one apart from Song Yan seems to challenge Bowen in the whole story – not his colleagues nor his mother. There are a few explanations as to why he is so aloof and work-obsessed, but an emotionally unavailable character is hard to sympathise with when his confessions feel more self-gratifying than like calls for help. Without anyone in the household to hear Song Yan out, she projects her insecurities onto Bai Yu. He is melancholic, a man of few words and even less conversation. For most of the book, I was confused about whether Bai Yu was supposed to be a mentor figure later down the line or simply a plot device since there seemed to be no relationship developing (romantic, platonic, sympathetic or otherwise) between him and Song Yan. They simply co-exist, chasing after something they cannot not quite articulate.

I think this story didn’t stand up as well against other narratives exploring grief for me because it gave me closure without catharsis. It was, as promised, a dreamlike read, but one that fades rather unceremoniously into the distance rather than something that weighs on your conscience. Instead of hope for new beginnings, it gave us a natural progression from dealing with regrets to moving to the next stage of life. It left me wishing Song Yan the best for the future and wondering what became of the talking mushroom. I rate it 3.5 stars (rounded down to 3 for NetGalley).

Big thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an eARC copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

This was a meandering, drifting dream of a novel. When I stopped reading, I had to sit there for a moment to bring myself back to the present. An Yu meditates on grief, loneliness, the worth of an individual, and how valuable their contribution (or lack thereof) makes them with poeticism. Song Yan is the perfect main character of this novel and I was desperately interested in her personal journey.

I haven't read An Yu's other novel, but it is jumping towards the front of my tbr thanks to this.