What I liked: I appreciate how, although this novel revolves around the relationship dynamic between the female sculptor and the male architect, this is not a romance novel. The story continues to explore the ephemeral quality of art and its relevance to the decision to live through the development of familial relationships and the development of each character. There are also several discussions on suicide, highlighting historic cases where artists take their lives and how their reasoning relates to their artistic endeavors. These discussions directly relate to the novel's plot, particularly with the female sculptor's obsession with death and growing intrigue with blowfish.

What I didn't like: I believe the way the novel is translated has made it confusing to read. There are several spelling mistakes, with words being smushed together (example: "takingaway" instead of "taking away") and words missing letters (example: "cofee" instead of "coffee"). The way that some sentences have been framed can also make certain paragraphs seem superfluous and unnecessarily long.

Takeaway: This novel is extremely introspective and handles topics of guilt, depression, and grief. I hope the grammatical errors and sentence framing can be cleaned up because I did find this book to be interesting, and I think Kyung-ran Jo is an impactful writer.

i have been getting into korean literature lately, and i really enjoyed this book! thank you so much to the publisher for giving me this e-arc ♥️

Depression is something I struggle with so reading this was cathartic for me. It was a bit slow going but beautiful nonetheless.

This book i a very overwhelmingly melancholic read. Atmospheric in a kind of depressing way, like i could feel the dread and the weigh on the character's backs.
I struggled a bit with keeping both storylines clear in the beginning, but once i wasfamkliar with the characters, it got easier. One thing that might just be the usual writing style of Asian literature is how over descriptive it is, and makes the reading experience a bit heavier than i would like, but thats just me.

I think the book did not take the necessary care with the subject of suicide. Overall, the translation has a lot of typos.

Absolutely beautiful novel. I would reread this many times over in order to focus a bit more on the chapters to truly feel the devastation

Blowfish is a somber book, in tone and content. I enjoyed the exploration of depression, as it is present throughout the entire book and sometimes in very subtle ways. The conversations characters had and their reflections on family helped me understand each protagonist the most, even though conversations were unfortunately, sparse.

Because this is such a character-driven story, I struggled to connect with the characters due to the short chapters and short amount of time spent with each protagonist. There was a lot of time spent describing places, journeys to places, and even describing one another or other people. I didn't understand the characters more until the fourth part, and the the relationship between them is vague to me. While this title didn't work for me as much as I'd hoped, I do think the author's style is interesting, and the study of depression notable.

Thank you to NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for the ARC!

I'm not sure I cared for the characters, from whom I expected a little more intrigue given the premise. However, the writing is absolutely lovely and Jo Kyung Ran creates a consistent, eerily muted atmosphere.

The chapters involving blowfish were the strongest parts of the book. Overall I enjoyed, but I feel like it could've been shorter. I'd love to read a short story with this premise.

Thanks NetGalley and Astra Publishing House for the early review copy.

Premise was intriguing enough for me to keep reading; however, it was too slow and choppy for me to be fully invested. At about the halfway point, it became almost too tedious to continue. I still finished it though.

Suicide, in itself is already tough enough to talk about, and pairing it with writing that could be considered distracting or lacking clarity could render the entire story less impactful.

I received an ARC so I understand it was an uncorrected proof. Not going to lie, the spelling, grammatical and formatting errors might have ruined my experience, so I may try again with the final copy another day.

I would also not recommend this book to those who are sensitive to depression, suicide and death.

This novel is unfortunately a DNF at 30% for me. I've spent months trying to pick it back up and return to it, but unfortunately I find the writing to be quite stilted and uninteresting. I feel bad giving it a start rating because I don't necessarily think it's bad, however it is very much not for me, and I am unable to power through.

An immersive, atmospheric novel that leans heavily into setting as character. The worldbuilding is rich but never overwhelming, and every location feels textured and purposeful. The plot unspools gradually, rooted in mystery and emotional revelation. Characters feel slightly elusive at first but deepen over time. There’s a sense of quiet dread running through the narrative, not horror but something unsettling. The themes—loss, legacy, and home—are woven subtly throughout. It’s a book that rewards patience, and the payoff is worth it. A good fit for fans of mood-heavy fiction with literary sensibilities.

Blowfish is often brilliant, and is one of the most realistic descriptions of depression I’ve experienced in a novel.

The non-linear narrative is deeply effective. The gaps in chronology; relative extensions and contractions in perceived time; and the blurring of memory, imagination and present all serve to produce one of the most realistic descriptions of how time is experienced while suffering from depression that I have ever read.

The stagnation of the characters, their inability to recognize or process emotions, the inability to do or want, and the overwhelming feeling of being unable to connect with those around them perfectly encapsulate what it feels like to be depressed around people who aren’t.

Strangely, this realism doesn’t quite extend to the purported subject of the novel — suicide. The ideation and discussion around the actual act often feel trite. It feels strange to go from such awe-inspiring recreations of the realities of depression to passages where the motivations of suicide are reduce to “unrequited love” or a “fear of living”. This disconnect is especially pronounced since the book begins with an interesting question about suicide: is it heritable? I think if the discussion had not had such an auspicious opening salvo, I likely wouldn’t have cared as much that it didn’t stick the landing, but I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

The relationships among the characters, major and minor, were impactful. The relationships designed to insulate oneself from hurt, the refusal to deal with past trauma, and the frustrating decisions to actively avoid pursuing desires all feel incredibly realistic. The “love story” structure didn’t really land for me, but it’s a minor quibble in the grand scheme of things.

In general, I think there’s a lot to like here. It’s one of the most realistic depictions of depression I’ve read in a novel, and the prose, structure, and characterization all contribute to the impact. I just wish that the suicide aspect of the story had lived up to the standards of the rest of the novel.

3.5/5. A great novel, beautifully translated, that I really enjoyed reading until it gradually became too abstract for my taste. It’s a shame because we get to follow complex characters throughout the book, from a female sculptor and a male architect whose names remain unknown to us to the very last page, to a fugu specialist and a death cleaner with wise words to share ("If there’s a singular truth in this world, it’s that everyone dies"). Their impulsiveness keeps us on edge; we never really know what will happen to them next. As for the haunting atmosphere surrounding both protagonists, it was very well represented—that moment with the woman and her halmeoni on a tree branch at Ueno Park left a deep impression on me. It’s not easy to explore heavy themes such as depression and suicide (ideation), but the author did it remarkably. Also, even though I sometimes got lost in her words, Jo’s vast knowledge on art and architecture added a definite layer of realism to the story. Ultimately I don’t regret the time I spent on this literary work, travelling between Seoul and Tokyo. It’s great that it could be translated into English some fifteen years after its original release.

Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC.

“Isn’t half of life embarrassment? And the rest of it fear and greed?” She hadn’t explained herself, but he’d understood that the rest meant death.

This story has very heavy themes involving depression, suicidal ideation, and death. The author does not shy away from exploring them.

“Blowfish”— in which a sculptor decides to use pufferfish toxin to end her life—presents a moving story about two people whose lives are affected by suicide. It touches on trauma, resilience, self-determination, art, love and depression.

I enjoyed the pace of this book and the chapters with alternating perspectives that jumped between the sculptor and the architect who crosses paths with her. Both characters find themselves alone, both bear the weight of family deaths that have shaken their families to their core, and both have chosen different paths for processing that trauma.

An element in “Blowfish” that especially interested me was the complicated women in the book —from learning about the sculptor’s grandmother’s life to finding that the sculptor has borne comparisons to a woman she’s never met for her entire life. How do they come to take control over their own lives? The final exhibit where we see the sculptor’s newest piece was a really satisfying conclusion to this element of the book, for me.

Ultimately, I enjoyed this book about learning to understand light and shadow, joy and sorrow. I am going to be thinking about it for a long time.

This book was not for me. The specific descriptions of suicidal ideation were incredibly hard to get through. While the language is sparse and clean, it is lyrical. But the content was not something I felt good about consuming. Maybe that is the point?

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC!

On paper, this is the perfect kind of book for me. Languid and self-reflective, with lashings of melancholy and a compounded sense of generational trauma, it seems like the kind of thing that I would just adore. Unfortunately, it simply wasn’t to be.

We follow two characters, one a sculptor seeking to end her life, and the other a man haunted by his brother’s suicide, and their connection. There’s a non-linear sense to this novel that just didn’t connect well with me as a reader. While I am usually a fan of the style, it felt like there was no real chance to connect properly with these two, and I was left feeling a bit hollow in my attempt to empathise with them.

I think there are some shining moments throughout, but I also think the book could be pared back significantly. I did think there could also be a bit more of a focus on the direct implications of the character’s actions, but it all felt a little vague for my liking. I do have to admit blowfish is an original way to go out though. It fascinating approach and study of suicidality in that respect at the least.

This was an interesting character study of two similar experiences in life. The topic of the book is heavy, so just be aware when you get into it. Overall ,I enjoyed it, but felt the writing was a little bit stilted at times and found my mind wandering.

Interesting premise, but I found this very slow and monotonous. Neither protagonist felt compelling or evolving as the chapters progressed, and the fragmented storytelling made the pacing inconsistent. As someone who normally likes slower, character-focused novels, I found this simply too slow to keep my interest, and that it needed more tension or conflict to warrant the page count.

My eARC also had spelling issues repeatedly - all 'ff' instances where replaced with a single f, leading to typos like cofee, ofer, etc. This also made 'of' replace 'off', which was enough to make some sentences difficult to understand without several re-reads.

Blowfish is a haunting, introspective novel that delves into themes of mortality, artistic expression, and the complexities of human connection. The narrative follows two protagonists: a female sculptor and a male architect, whose lives intertwine as they grapple with their own existential crises. The sculptor, inspired by her grandmother's suicide, contemplates ending her life through a final, artful act, while the architect, dealing with his own grief, becomes a reluctant companion on her journey.

Jo's writing is minimalist yet evocative, employing sparse prose and metaphorical language to create a somber, contemplative atmosphere. The alternating perspectives between the two characters offer a nuanced exploration of their inner turmoil and the delicate balance between life and death. The novel's structure, though unconventional, invites readers to engage deeply with the characters' emotional landscapes.

While the pacing may feel deliberate and the narrative non-linear, these stylistic choices enhance the novel's meditative quality. The ambiguity in the characters' relationship, neither a traditional romance nor a platonic bond, adds depth to the story, highlighting the transient and often elusive nature of human connections.

Blowfish is a compelling read for those who appreciate literary fiction that challenges conventions and delves into the darker aspects of the human experience. Its melancholic tone and introspective themes resonate long after the final page.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.