The novel is written with a lyrical flow. An Yu has a way of writing that gives the feel or illusion of floating - it is quite beautiful. Sadly, the story/plot seemed to flow way too much - it did not have any feeling of direction. The main character, Song Yan, was way too passive for me. She seemed to follow no direction as well. There seemed to be no focus. I always love a bit of magic in stories - hey, I can even handle and enjoy a whole lot of magic and whimsy but the element of magic in this novel felt just strange and off putting for me. I really had no idea how to process the orange talking mushrooms.

This was an intriguing book, unsettling and quite melancholic. It has aspects of magical realism that feel a bit out of place at times, but I do enjoy and resonate with the themes of grief, motherhood and the pervading secrecy that can exist in relationships. I've seen this book described as 'dreamlike' and I would agree.
The writing was good quality, but I couldn't quite connect to the characters, the main character feeling quite distant and passive, and the ending feeling very vague. I would rate this 3.5 stars and I would read again from this author, I would like to check out Braised Pork, An Yu's first book.
Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Press for the e-arc.

Song Yan studied for years to be a concert pianist, but abandoned it, irretrievably earning her father’s ire. She becomes a piano teacher, ends up marrying Bowen, and though they seem to have a decent marriage, things are souring. Song Yan wants a child, while Bowen refuses, citing the demands of his job, which requires long hours, and months of travel.

Bowen’s depressed mother moves into their second bedroom in their apartment, and Song Yan feels somewhat irritated and increasingly anxious, especially as she finds the older woman somewhat manipulative. Her mother-in-law’s wish for a grandchild and blame for Song Yan’s apparent unwillingness to give her one only magnifies Song Yuan’s frustration with everything.

Then, weekly deliveries of different kinds of mushrooms begin arriving from a stranger, which Song Yan and her mother-in-law cook together. Song Yan also experiences regular dreams of being in a small room with a talking mushroom.

The mushroom sender eventually reveals himself to Song Yan as famed concert pianist, Bai Yu, who disappeared ten years earlier on the eve of a performance.


Author An Yu brilliantly captures the feelings of regret, loneliness and frustration main character Song Yan experiences over the course of this book. The prose skilfully conveys Song Yan’s claustrophobic relationship with her mother-in-law and her quietly growing anger with Bowen’s absence and unwillingness to even discuss children with her, and her mother-in-law’s expectations and misplaced jabs at her daughter-in-law about her lack of grandchildren.

The author also builds a sense of unreality as the story progresses, particularly in the scenes with Bai Yu and his home in the centre of a busy Beijing neighbourhood. Also, there is news that Bowen’s and his mother’s hometown had “turned orange” from a weird, pollen-like dust. Then, there is the profound sense of betrayal Song Yan experiences, when Bowen’s ex-wife contacts her, revealing information about Bowen that shakes Song Yan up and deeply hurts her.

The story is by turns sad, surreal, and alarming. Did I read a story about a marriage dissolution, a mushroom takeover, a woman wrestling with her emotions and perceptions, a ghost story, grief, finding oneself? Or all these things? No matter. It’s weird, dark, and moody, and I liked it.

Thank you to Netgalley and to Grove Atlantic for this ARC in exchange for my review.

Ghost Music centres around Song Yan, a woman living in Beijing. She always wanted to become a concert pianist, but gave up all hopes of making that her career years ago and now lives with her husband Bowen, who has been turning down her wishes of having a child for years now, stating that he's too busy with work and too hopeful of getting a promotion. When his mother arrives at their home, she involuntarily begins to shake things up, with tension in the household rising and the pressure for Song Yan intensifying. Things begin to change when a parcel of mushrooms arrives on their doorstep one week, and continues to get delivered each of the following weeks, one day including a letter that leads her to discover the hidden home of Bai Yu, a once world-famous pianist who disappeared ten years ago.
For its relatively short length, this was a complex read that carries such a unique weight to it that I can definitely recommend this to people who aren't weirded out by stepping into other spheres.

Really enjoyed this bizarre yet heartfelt story about a lonely women who loves the piano more than life itself.

Ghost Music certainly left me with food for thought regarding life in general and family relationships. Also, one very strong point that came to mind is what we intend to achieve in this life and where happiness lies. An Yu writes in a very delicate and beautiful way which delighted me.
I thank the author, her publisher, and NetGalley for this book.

This book is such an interesting exploration into family, relationships with others, and relationships with ourselves... with mushrooms. I'll be honest, the orange mushroom part really threw me at first, but I really enjoyed this book. It's beautifully written and I really liked the part music and the piano plays throughout the book. There are still things I have questions on, but not at all in a bad way.

Love the incorporation of mushrooms with family and cooking. Really solid based connection. This book sticks around on your mind.

'Ghost Music', by An Yu, is a delightfully weird, philosophical and melancholy tale about Song Yan, a married piano teacher from Beijing.

Song Yan gave up on her career as a concert pianist years ago, and decided to settle down with her husband, Bowen, who is an executive at a car company.
Song Yan has always had a strong desire to have children, but Bowen refuses to have a child and has been completely ignoring her pleas.

Following the recent death of Bowen's father, the couple move into a larger apartment so that Bowen's mother can come live with them.

Living in an apartment with her emotionally absent and ungrateful husband, and a mother-in-law she barely knows, Song Yan quickly becomes frustrated and lonely.

As tension in the household starts to rise, it becomes harder for Song Yan to stay calm.
She starts to experience dreams of a doorless room she can’t escape, populated only by a strange orange mushroom.
Shortly after, she starts receiving mysterious packages of mushrooms native to Yunnan, her mother-in-law's home province.
Song Yan sees an opportunity to bond with her mother-in-law over traditional recipes, and the two start to cook together.
The mushrooms arrive each week, until a letter from the sender of the mushrooms appears in the mail one day, and Song Yan's world begins to tilt further into the surreal.

'Ghost Music' is a very atmospheric and complex novel that reads like a fever dream.
It's about life, grief, relationships, food and self-discovery.
It reminded of 'The Vegetarian' by Han Kang, which would make a great companion read.
I haven't read An Yu's previous work, but I really enjoyed her writing style in this novel.
My only gripe is that some of the plot points aren't resolved by the end.

Huge thanks to @netgalley and @groveatlantic for the free advanced reader copy of 'Ghost Music' in exchange for my honest review.

It's rare that I come across a book these days that I absolutely cannot put down, but this one had me sneaking in pages during long meetings with my kindle set up just out of the zoom frame. Admittedly, I own a copy of An Yu's Braised Pork, but have not yet picked it up. I went into this knowing nothing except that it had showed up on a lot of my most trusted publication's "Most Anticipated" lists. And I'm coming away already knowing this will end up on my favorites of the year list in December.

An Yu writes in a style that drew me in immediately. There's something deceptively simple about the way she writes, choosing to let her themes and metaphors do the heavy lifting in her layered and complex novel. Song Yu and her husband have recently moved into a larger apartment so that her mother-in-law can move in with them. Two things happen as soon as they move into their new home--they start receiving mysterious packages of mushrooms from someone who may or may not be a famous pianist thought dead for a decade, and Song Yu's husband leaves for a long business trip stranding Song alone with a mother-in-law she barely knows.

There are so many layers of feminine isolation in this, all brought to the forefront of Song Yu's story as she wrestles with the life she wants and the expectations of being a traditional wife. All the while, the fight between reality and unreality is becoming equally fraught.

This reminded me so much of one of my favorite books of all time: The Vegatarian by Han Kang and I think the two should absolutely be read in parallel with their similarly bare and straightforward styles and layer upon layer of family struggles that are uniquely feminine.

For a sophomore novel, I'm disappointed. Yu's Braised Pork surprised me and held my attention in a way Ghost Music did not. At first I thought it was due to the surreal nature of the plot, but the characters just didn't feel real enough for me to be invested in this one.

I really enjoyed this title. It was quiet, strange and moving. I couldn't put it down and was consistently surprised by the directions the story went in.

This was enjoyable, but not as weird as I was hoping it was going to be? I don't think this is going to stick with me, but I don't regret reading it. My favourite part of the book was the relationship between the MC and her mother in law, and because of that, the first half of the book worked a lot better for me than the second half. I definitely lost interest towards the end. Overall, still an interesting read and I would say that if the synopsis interests you, the book is short enough that it's worth a read!

Full five stars.

This was the book I needed when I needed it. The use of food and music seems to be transcendental, as only contemporary Korean literature can be. I read this exhausted on a winter trip with a side of my family aI don’t particularly like, and while sipping a martini on an empty stomach. There was a party going on at the hotel bar just after I sat down and so out of spite and maybe out of sheer tiredness. This book surpassed the loud techno, in a way that I felt I was buried in a snow storm where my only companion was a little radio playing Debussy’s reverie as I drowned into the existential certainty that the only true things in life is the lack of knowledge we ultimately have about our loved ones, and that nature will prevail above all.

This is a book about music, about life, relationships, secrets, family, and food. This book is magnificent, this book is submersive, it is sad, and it takes you on for the time being and asks only for your compassion and love for the world.

I love this book, I cherish it in a way that I cherish good food and soulful music. Please read this and enjoy it with some classical music, and if possible some amazing mushrooms. I suggest cooking them in a frying pan, basting them in a mix of butter and thyme. Then as you take a bite, remember all the steps a small fungi had to take to break the earth, and survive centuries to be at your table tonight.

Song Yan was a concert pianist until she decided to give it up and settle down with her husband, Bowen. Now, she is a piano teacher living in an apartment with her workaholic and, emotionally absent husband and her mother-in-law.

When a parcel of mushrooms native to her mother-in-law's home region is delivered to their doorstep by mistake; Song Yan and her mother-in-law bond over it by cooking different dishes with them for dinner. The mushrooms arrive each week until they don't and a letter appears in its place instead--leading her to a house in the middle of the city where she finds the famous pianist, Bai Yu, who disappeared a decade ago.

If I'm being honest... I almost forgot that this book was about to expire and was gonna be archived which was what pushed me to finally start reading it. But once I started, I COULD NOT put it down! It's been a while since I've been entranced by a story from the very first page and finished it in 24 hours.

There is a very mysterious and unsettling vibe to this story that makes it bizarre and feel like a fever dream. It starts out with Song Yan having a conversation with talking mushrooms in a doorless room but as the story progresses, we watch Song Yan suffer in silence when she discovers truths about her husband while having to live up to her duties as a daughter-in-law. The novel does a wonderful job of showing the complexities of grief and the psychological effects on women who are told to keep silent, to keep their emotions at bay and to never lash out when Song Yan begins to spiral and question herself and everything around her.

This was my first time reading An Yu's books and I really enjoy her writing. Her prose is quiet yet devastating and she has a beautiful way of describing emotions and surroundings--making it a very atmospheric and melancholic read. She also leaves a lot of room for her readers to come up with their own interpretations of what everything means and represents. I feel like this could be either a hit or miss for many but, I think it's worth checking out as there can be some great discussions to come out of it!

Thank you Grove Atlantic for the eARC in exchange for an honest review.
4.5/5

This book did not quite work out for me. I was intrigued by the way the story opened. While the unsettling atmosphere (the talking mushrooms! and the piano prodigy who may or may not be alive) and the writing- although sparse- kept me reading, it felt like the author kept her characters at arm's length. I couldn't connect with them. The main character, Song Yan, felt so passive. The dialog between characters felt choppy.

There were truly beautiful passages on classic music, grief, memory, life and self discovery. Ghost Music is a short book at only 240 pages. It might work better for readers who like eerie, contemplative literary fiction pieces.

Charming, complex, and reads like a fever dream. Ghost Music was easy to read yet it took me over a month to finish. Song Yan reminds me a lot of the women in my Asian family so it was quite jarring to read.
However, the book started out really strong at the beginning and it just kinda... dissipated? It kept going round in circles and I was left with so many unanswered questions in the end.

(3.5 stars rounded up)

“Ghost Music,” by An Yu, Grove Press, 240 pages, Jan. 10, 2023.

Song Yan wakes one night to a voice asking for help. The voice seems to be coming from an orange mushroom. The voice says he wants to be remembered. She is convinced that she is dreaming.

Song Yan lives in a Beijing apartment and teaches piano. She gave up on her own career as a concert pianist many years ago, but her husband Bowen, an executive at a car company, has long rebuffed her pleas to have a child.

Bowen’s father died a month earlier, and his mother comes to live with them. She is from the southwestern Chinese region of Yunnan. She campaigns for a grandchild. Bowen’s mother reveals that they gave up a daughter, Boyan, and she is now regretting it. Ruya, Song’s friend, tells her that she met a woman who was Bowen’s first wife. Song Yan didn’t know he was married before.

As tension in the household rises, it becomes harder for Song Yan to keep her calm demeanor, especially since she is troubled by dreams of a doorless room she can’t escape, populated only by a strange orange mushroom.

Then a parcel of mushrooms native to her mother-in-law’s province is delivered seemingly by mistake, Song Yan sees an opportunity to bond with her. They cook together.

When a letter arrives in the mail from the sender of the mushrooms, Song Yan’s world begins to tilt further. Summoned to a house that sits in the middle of the city, she finds Bai Yu, a once world-famous pianist who disappeared ten years ago. He wants her to help him find the proof of his life through his music. She comes to realize that things are not as simple as she thought.

This is a surreal and dreamlike novel and some of the plot points aren’t resolved by the end. This novel isn’t easy to get through, but it is captivating. Ultimately, it is a story about choices, relationships and the meaning of life.

In accordance with FTC guidelines, the advance reader's edition of this book was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for a review.

Being trapped in a small apartment with one's mother-in-law would be hell on earth for me.

Poor Song Yan suffers in silence as her husband's mother constantly berates her for having a silly little career, but not having produced a grandchild (even though it is really Son Yan's husband who has no interest in fathering children.)

I thought I would be relieved once Song Yan managed to shed herself of these two negative people, but that's where the story took a nosedive for me. That dramatic tension was apparently a key element in the tale, and once that was gone, there seemed to be little to hold the story together.

My rating hovers around 3.5 stars, but I'll assign four for the languid, dreamy quality to An Yu's writing.

I really wanted to love "Ghost Music" by An Yu. The writing is gorgeous and the author creates a haunting atmosphere with her words. Unfortunately, however, the writing was not enough to salvage this book for me. I just couldn't connect with the story and found myself not caring about the characters or what was happening to them. Perhaps there is some deeper meaning that I missed, but I failed to see the point of the story. I often read literary fiction, but I guess this one just went over my head. There were too many questions than answers at the end of the book for it to feel like a satisfying read.

Thank you NetGalley, the author, and the publisher for the opportunity to read an advanced digital copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.