I picked this up because I’d heard good things from so many people, but I thought meh … and guys, I WAS SO WRONG.

I’ll admit, meh is probably not a good attitude to have going into a book, but I’m only human. Mostly. For now.

I was totally not prepared for how much I was going to enjoy this book. Once I started, I just could not put the darn thing down.

Trigger warning for suicide and character death.

I want to make sure this is said before anything else, front and center, because this happens in the first chapter and the entire book focuses around this.

If suicide is a major trigger for you, please do yourself a favor and don’t read this book.

Yes, it’s gorgeous and handles the topic in a very raw and real way, but know your limitations and what’s good for your own mental health. The book is dark and can be hard to get through just because of how powerfully it portrays the emotion of picking up the pieces after losing someone close to you due to suicide. So I wanted to make sure that was said before I actually discussed any of this.

    

Leigh Chen Sanders is absolutely certain about one thing: When her mother died by suicide, she turned into a bird.

Leigh, who is half Asian and half white, travels to Taiwan to meet her maternal grandparents for the first time. There, she is determined to find her mother, the bird. In her search, she winds up chasing after ghosts, uncovering family secrets, and forging a new relationship with her grandparents. And as she grieves, she must try to reconcile the fact that on the same day she kissed her best friend and longtime secret crush, Axel, her mother was taking her own life.

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❧ This book tackles aaaall the pertinent issues in life: suicide, grief, loss, survivor’s guilt, depression, self-identity, culture, belief.

And it’s all done exceedingly well, which is extremely impressive. You’d think that maybe she’d fall down on one thing, but no, Emily Pan stuck the landing.

The suicide is foremost, because that’s the big issue Leigh is struggling with. Her mother has struggled with depression for a long time, and it finally culminated. Suicide sucks for all those left behind. I speak from personal experience.

Emily Pan handles the topic of suicide with grace, but she’s also not pulling any punches—Leigh’s thoughts and reactions are so real and recognizable that they’re almost tangible.

It takes on a life of its own, and they were the same things I went through in her position, as well.

Another really well-done aspect is her struggle as biracial, which I can also relate to. Leigh belongs to two cultures, and yet no cultures, all at the same time. She’s American, born and raised, but she’s also very clearly Taiwanese, from her mother, which makes her stand out in America. But when she goes to Taiwan, she’s obviously very American, like her father, which makes her stand out there.

Part of Leigh’s journey of discovery is just learning to define herself, rather than letting society define her.

And that was a powerful and beautiful journey, because not feeling like you belong anywhere is hard.

❧ There are two simultaneous storylines: Leigh kisses her best friend at the same time her mother is taking her own life.

Which makes things doubly complicated. Both are painful memories, for different reasons. Her mother’s suicide is an obvious pain. Her kissing Axel is different. She likes him, obviously, but things have become tense between them, and she’s afraid of ruining her friendship and everything they’ve had, not to mention the pesky business of him already having a girlfriend.

This is the catalyst where the book starts, with Leigh losing both her mother and her best friend, and through the course of the book, she has to find both again.

At first, I thought the conflict with Axel was kind of meh. I wasn’t all that impressed? The book is YA, though, so some teenage drama is to be expected, even if that wasn’t why I was reading it. As it developed, however, and we get more glimpses at their relationship, it feels like more of a loss, especially considering how close they were, and everything builds simultaneously.

The plot lines also conclude together in similar fashion, and I thought that was a nice touch.

❧ I knew very little about Taiwanese culture going in, but I felt like Pan really painted a detailed portrait of a country I’ll probably never have the chance to see.

Since half the story takes place in Taiwan, this is important. Leigh faces cultural and language barriers, as an American overseas, but she recognizes bits of her mother while she’s there and desperately wants to be connected to her mother’s culture.

The reader’s taken on a journey through the streets of Taiwan, through the markets, to some tourist locations, given a glimpse into the language(s), and gets to participate in Ghost Month.

As I’ve said, I don’t know a whole lot about Taiwan, so I found this fascinating. There were plenty of times I felt like I was there, and I just love the rich lore and belief that surrounds Ghost Month.

❧ The supernatural and religious elements of this were EVERYTHING.

Guys, it was SO GOOD. Leigh’s mother is a bird. Not as in her spirit animal. Not as in her reincarnation. A literal bird—red and feathery and elusive. And the bird is leading her on a journey that she can’t say no to—not that she would want to.

In fact, Leigh spends the whole book chasing the bird and chasing the past because she’s afraid to look to the future … but she can only find the future through learning about the past.

It’s actually a rather delicious circle, and the journey was both heartbreaking and breathtaking. I wanted to know all the family secrets, just like she did, so I was always excited when the next ugly secret reared its head. After all, she’s in a country she doesn’t know with grandparents she’s never met, chasing a past her mother’s always refused to talk about, and everything she doesn’t know about her mother is glaringly clear.

I actually don’t want to say too much about this because that’s the point of the story, and you sort of have to live it. So yeah.

❧ Emotions are described as colors, and this should totally become a thing, to some extent.

How often does someone ask you, “How are you feeling?” Ugh, I hate that. The answer will always be fine.  Even when that’s not the truth, because if you answer something other than fine, now you have to talk about it, and that’s the exact opposite of what you want to do. So it’s fine. No, really.

In the book, Axel and Leigh ask, “What color?” when they want to know the other person’s mood—and this. Is. Fabulous.

Everyone should do this. It might take some getting used to, especially in trying to understand and translate colors. We’d have to come up with some universal understandings, and that’s sometimes hard, but it’d totally be worth it.

I realize it can get sticky, okay? But think of the possibilities!

You don’t always have to be fine. You can be burnt umber or cerulean blue or emerald green. Now, I realize this could be a problem for the less creative people among us, because it requires some amount of imagination to boil down how you feel into a color. But you know what? That weeds them out. Yeah, I see you over there, Sharon, talking a mile a minute about how happy you are but unable to articulate it in a color. You’re freaking yellow, okay? Bright, obnoxious, dandelion yellow, and it’s too dang early for it, Sharon!

❧ Sometimes too much of a good thing is, well, too much.

Sometimes the rain is just wet, okay? Not liquid armor protecting you from everything (which, FYI, would be the worst kind of armor, just so you don’t make that mistake).

Sometimes an emotion is just an emotion. It doesn’t have to be a raging, vibrant color or a rapidly ascending arpeggio (my words, not hers, but you get the point).

As much as I love the use of color and music in this, sometimes I just want to be able to feel with the characters, not be told what their suffering looks like or sounds like.

The subjects in this book are so frigging relatable, except that I don’t feel in colors and sounds. So there were moments when the pure emotion of a scene is interrupted by me trying to decide what this color is because I’ve never heard of it before, and suddenly I’m not sad anymore, I’m just merlot red, okay? Emphasis on the merlot part.

Have you read The Astonishing Color of After yet? Perhaps the most important question of all: what color, guys?