Reviews

• “There is only one reason anyone would trek through the guarding trees to get to HOME: not to seek new life, but to satisfy a longing for the dead. “Houses in HOME sate the unending hunger of those most vulnerable, unsuspecting. They feed on our desires, our pain. So much pain. And to wallow in such pain. . . It is a hideous thing. “Isn’t it strange? How everyone here desires their homes to be haunted?” 📚 Linghun (“soul” in Chinese) is a debut gothic novella that combines fantasy with supernatural horror to form a truly dark and harrowing modern ghost story. Primarily set in a strange and mysterious town called HOME (“Homecoming Of Missing Entities”), this beautifully written novella submerges readers within a spiritualistic, haunting-inclined community filled with bereaved families hoping to reconnect with lost loved ones. The premise is a reverse haunting, where the living refuse to let go of the dead. With available residences in short supply, HOME is an eerie, past-rooted place frozen in time and full of empty promises, devastated hopes, and clear class distinctions. Overrun by desperate “lingerers” — homeless families who live on lawns waiting for houses to become available — the town disguises its soulless, cruel, and exploitative underbelly beneath a sparkling veneer. This facade is embodied by polished and remorseless real estate agent Tania Yemen, who lures grieving families to town, taunts them with empty promises, and dehumanizes them through brutal, bloody, and barbaric home auctions. HOME may be a place where the living can reconnect with the dead, but it is foremost a place where residents lose touch with reality, squander the present, sacrifice ethics and morals, and risk ruination in their attempts to reach past the veil and secure basic human rights. In a society based on lies and manipulation and rooted in the belief that one can outsmart and make sense of death, can one ever really make friends, develop trust, maintain sanity, or form healthy relationships? The narrative unfolds via three points of view, all set against a unique and uncanny, supremely gothic backdrop composed of haunted houses, outdated schools, cold-hearted residents, and estranged cultures. The POVs include Wenqi, whose parents finagled their way into HOME to reconnect with her deceased brother, and whose neglect clearly marks him as their “golden child”; Liam, whose equally neglectful lingerer family has lived on Wenqi’s lawn for more than three years in hopes of buying the house and seeing his dead sister; and Mrs., a longtime resident rumored to have arrived prior to spirits appearing and — as she is one of the few with an unhaunted house — someone viewed as odd and likely insane. These three intersecting storylines weave a harrowing, resonant, and universal story of loss, grief, and longing — one where mortality and sorrow level the playing field and haunt the past, present, and future. It’s a devastating and symbolic tale of hopes, rituals, and journeys where humans are “othered” as they mourn the loss of their cultures, relationships, connections, and futures. It’s a macabre, extraordinary, and singular novella unlike anything I have read previously, one that, though rooted in the fantastic, feels deeply relatable and almost tangible, as, above all, it’s a powerful and indelible homage to the one great equalizer that shadows us all.

• My new obsession is Linghun. It is a rarity to find that one book that is so unusually special that it gets lodged in your brain and you can't emotionally move on. Wenqi and her parents move to a place called "HOME" in the wake of her brother's death. HOME is a place where people go in the hopes of being haunted by their dead loved ones. This is not a haunted house story, more a haunted town story, told by multiple points of view from people in different houses. It is grief horror, generational trauma, the feeling of not fitting in, and a love story. I am not a "read a book in one sitting" kind of person but Linghun was that one sitting book for me.

• «It’s been more than a decade since his death, but we still celebrate my brother’s sixth birthday every year». Linghun by Ai Jiang is a literary horror story about hauntings, grief, obsession and desperation. It’s about being always stuck in between, never wholly one thing or the other, wanting to let go but not being able to. Reading this novella was like hearing whispers in the fog, echoes from the underworld. I loved this so, so much. This book is set in the mysterious town of HOME, a place where the spirits of lost loved ones can be summoned to haunt your house. We follow as the lives of three strangers living in HOME become progressively and inextricably entangled, pulled together by their losses. This novella is masterfully written and drenched in metaphors and symbolism, every word seems intentional – this is done in a very subtle way; the author plants little seeds and scatters little crumbles of meaningful details everywhere throughout the narration. There is definitely a huge focus on symbols relating to the “in-between”, and not only because ghosts are stuck between life and death, but also the living are stuck between mourning and letting go, past and present. The main character and her family are also Chinese immigrants to Canada – they are also stuck between two worlds. Their mourning is not only confined to the loss of a beloved child, but also to the separation from their homeland, language and culture: «We may not want to admit it, but I think immigration is the death of a part of us». This story also contains dystopian elements and a very important commentary on how often desperation and grief are exploited for the gain and entertainment of those in power. I could talk about this book for hours, as there is really an ocean of themes to unpack. This novella was in my top 3 books for 2023 (and I’ve read almost 180 books) - I recommend it to anyone looking for a well-written, atmospheric story full of meaning. I can’t wait to check out Ai Jiang’s other works.

• Loved this eerie read! It leaves you wondering about life and death. Amazing short read.

• "Linghun" is a dark fantasy novella about ghosts and family, grief and immigration. In the opening pages we see Wenqi and her parents arriving at a new home, a home where they are expecting the ghost of Wenqi's brother to appear. The story shifts between three points-of-view: Wenqi (the principal figure), Mrs., a woman whose house remains stubbornly unhaunted, and Liam, a teenage schoolmate of Wenqi's, whose parents hope to eventually secure a haunted house of their own. It is, as you can tell, a strange story. Strange, sad, upsetting, eloquent. It makes interesting and effective choices. Wenqi's story, the main one, is presented in first person. Mrs.'s story is written in narrower columns and in second-person. Liam's perspective is presented in third person. Both Wenqi and Mrs. are Chinese immigrants to Canada (like the author herself). I found Wenqi immediately sympathetic and kept wishing her story arc would move toward happiness. The story of Mrs. is painted in comparatively few words, but yet ended up being wrenching. Liam's story rounds out the picture, though it didn't hit me quite as hard. I liked "Linghun" a lot, though it was more sad than enjoyable. My reactions became tangled up in thoughts of my own family. My parents were both immigrants to England. My father, born in Malaysia, shed his past with little outward regret, while still keeping in touch with his family. My mother, Irish, also seemed to have left her past behind. Yet when I went away to university, she became heavily involved in the Irish-language community in London. "Linghun" speaks about grieving not only people, but also languages and places left behind. In the paperback edition that I read, two short stories follow "Linghun," both good, though not, for me, equal to "Linghun." Four out of five haunted stars. About my reviews: I try to review every book I read, including those that I don't end up enjoying. The reviews are not scholarly, but just indicate my reaction as a reader, reading being my addiction. I am miserly with 5-star reviews; 4 stars means I liked a book very much; 3 stars means I liked it; 2 stars means I didn't like it (though often the 2-star books are very popular with other readers and/or are by authors whose other work I've loved).

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