This book is about grief, death, acceptance, loss, and suicide. Yiyun Li reflects on the deaths of both of her sons to suicide. The losses are staggering. She reflects on their lives and insights into what happened and why, but ultimately, there's a sense of mystery because how can we really know why a person decides to take their life? This book reflects on the aftermath of these losses. It's beautifully written, clear, and tremendously sad. The only part that I felt was a bit of a letdown was when Li becomes rather lecturing in tone about how to interact with a person who has lost someone to suicide at the end of the book.

This was a tough book. I've read her fiction but this was essays about the aftermath of both of her children dying by suicide. It is a difficult read and very personal. I almost felt like I was intruding and reading a diary vs something published for mass consumption.

I would like to start this review by saying that writing a review, for a book such as this, feels pretentious. Yiyun Li's superb writing abilities, her courage to face reality, to grapple with it, are all awe-inspiring. that she would allow us as readers into her experience feels gracious and generous. The last sentence of the book is heart-breaking. Every sentence of this book feels written from a place of deep understanding of life, of suffering and of indomitable courage. I am deeply grateful for the chance to read this.

Unsettling, Profound and Steeped in Emotions

I found this book really unsettling, profound and full of emotion. It's a collection of essays by Yiyun Li and it's very different from her other books. As the book explains, there might be some spoilers for those who are just starting to read it. She shares her thoughts, reflections and stories from her own journey after the death of her two sons.

I couldn't put this book down. It was shocking, deep and full of emotion. I felt like I wanted to sit and chat with or meet everyone Yiyun Li mentions in the book. Thanks to the publisher for giving me the chance to read this book.

It feels callous to assign a star rating to someone’s deeply profound and unknowable pain.

I am lucky that this memoir did not resonate with me, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a powerful tool or lifeline for someone struggling with unimaginable losses of their own.

This is one of those books that I hope to never recommend to anyone, and I’m sad it was written in the first place. I hope writing this brought Li even the smallest amount of peace, and should anyone find themselves in need of Li’s wisdom and advice, I hope they find this book.

Profound. Important. Eye-opening.

A collection of essays from author Yiyun Yi, Things In Nature Merely Grow reads as a series of contemplative stories and meditations surrounding the death by suicide of her second son, James.

The mother of two sons, Vincent and James, who both died by suicide seven years apart, at sixteen and nineteen respectively, Yi uses her strong intellect to connect with and evoke her departed younger son, James.

Things In Nature Merely Grow is a moving, profound and compelling book, which I couldn’t put down. Though I did feel the book could have been longer—I wanted to know more about these remarkable people that lit up Yi’s life. I wanted to know more about how Yi herself was managing and coping, more about the isolation and stigma of suicide. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful read and I am enriched for having known Yi’s family on these pages.


Expected Publication Dare: May 20, 2025

Many thanks to NetGalley, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and the Author for access to an eARC. All opinions are my own.

This book isn’t for everyone and Li makes that clear from the start. In fact, this book almost feels like it isn’t meant to be read, only witnessed, because it is so personal.

I lost a brother to suicide. I can’t relate to Li’s intellectual approach to mourning (most people can’t and she also acknowledges this). But some of her insights resonated with me. I can’t help but draw parallels between the boys she lost and my own brother. For that reason, I’m glad I read it.

For similar reasons, I wouldn’t recommend this book. It feels weird to have to rate it at all, but I received an advanced copy so I want to leave my thoughts. Can anyone appreciate this book without having experienced some level of loss akin to Li’s? I’m not the person to answer that, but you might consider it before reading.

no one writes like yiyun li. a stoic, brutal, and intensely loving book for li's second, quieter child, james. extraordinary.

i could see this book as a salve and gift for any person grieving death, suicide, the loss of a child, or any person who, even in life, felt elusive; though li, herself, eschews the word "grief", about which she writes:

“I am against the word “grief,” which in contemporary culture seems to indicate a process that has an end point: the sooner you get there, the sooner you prove yourself to be a good sport at living, and the less awkward people around you will feel. Sometimes people ask me where I am in the grieving process, and I wonder whether they understand anything at all about losing someone.”