Review: Sunbirth - An Yu
- The Fiction Fox
- Aug 10
- 3 min read

Genre: Literary Fiction, Magical Realism
Published: Grove Press, August 2025
My Rating: 5/5 stars
‘Sometimes,’ I said, ‘goodbye isn’t something you say out loud.’
An Yu cemented her place in my list of official favourite authors with her third novel: a brilliantly lyrical, magical realist story of the lives of an isolated village community in the dimming light of a vanishing sun. Part quiet apocalypse, part deeply personal exploration of grief and longing; all together a masterpiece that I adored.
The Story:
“Of everything that had vanished over the past twelve years, I did not miss much. Five Poems Lake had been in decay long before the sun began to disappear.”
In Five Poems Lake, a small village surrounded by impenetrable deserts, the sun is slowly disappearing overhead. It started slowly, 12 years ago; a dragged-out apocalypse that has grown into disastrous shape incrementally. A young woman keeps one apprehensive eye on the sky above as she tends the pharmacy of traditional medicine that belonged to her great grandfather. Together with her last living relative -her sister-, she grieves the loss of her dad, who disappeared mysteriously twelve years ago. Their stories of grief and desire for illumination and enlightenment, join with those of the other town-inhabitants, against the backdrop of an ever-darkening world.
What I loved:
An Yu is a master of magical realism and quietly melancholic atmosphere. The small town of Five Poems, lit by the light of a dying sun, forms such a visceral backdrop to the personal stories that play out beneath it. Although this is by no means a horror-story, or even your typical apocalyptic tale, the image of this isolated twilight-town haunted by people spilling light from their open mouths is absolutely haunting in itself.
I have to admit that it took me a little bit to grasp what the author was going for with the metaphors, but once it clicked it felt its effects in my bones. When it comes to the true meaning: Yu leaves much up to interpretation, yet not for a lack of clarity on her part. Rather, she weaves so many themes into her narrative that all tie into each other, and make for a valid interpretation for the reader to pick from. She balances themes of grief, desire, generational secrets, the desire for answers and understanding (regardless of the pain to yourself and others this might cause), and a desperate search for legacy and the divine at the end of the world.
It creates a nesting-doll of small, intertwining apocalypses; the end of a life, the end of a community, and the ultimate isolation that brings, even when all of it is happening at the same time.
I want to highlight a single line, that to me perfectly encapsulates the meaning of the Beacons, and how they tie in to overwhelming grief and fear. It’s this line that made a lot of the story click for me, because I’ve felt this feeling before.
“In a way, I thought, our bodies are just containers. I’d always assumed that we have the capacity to absorb the world, to endlessly store everything that we come across. But as we sat there in silence, I began to question whether there were, in fact, things that could overflow from us. Is that what the Beacons were: people who had become too full?”
I just had to sit with that one for a little bit…
I can see how some readers might be frustrated by the ending. If you’re primarily focused on the mystery aspect (which clearly is there, but takes the backseat), you might not come away fully satisfied. Although some answers are found, there’s no clear climax or resolution to the things that truly matter. The story flickers out like a candle, not with a bang, but with a whimper. And frankly, I feel that’s the only way a story like this could have ended.
I highly recommend this book, specifically for fans of Emily St. John Mandel or An Yu’s previous works. Expect this one to make an reappearance on my favourites-list at the end of the year.
Many thanks to Grove Press for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
You can find this book here on Goodreads.