This is a deeply moving novel, that will stay with you for some time after you finish the last page. Very evocative while exploring generational change. Recommended!

This is a beautifully written debut novel telling the story of three women (grandmother, mother and daughter) who lived in Banyan House in Florida.

Originally from Vietnam, the family saga traces the loves and losses of each woman, the inherited trauma, and the powerful sense of womanhood that each woman has.

A harrowing, compelling, gorgeously written tale spanning generations. I absolutely adored this story, I won’t be forgetting it any time soon

I had heard great things about Banyan Moon, incluing being featured on lots of 'Best debuts of the year' lists, so I was excited to read it, especially as I love family saga books. Covering three female generations,Thai's book tells the stories of Ann, her mother Minh, and her grandmother Hu'o'ng, as they each struggle with their respective male partners and the prospect of becoming single parents, while also grappling with the intensity of these three generations all living under the same roof, of the sprawling Banyan House. I really enjoyed this, and found that Thai created such a unique narrative voice for each protagonist, while retaining a beautiful, lyrical quality to the prose. The twist towards the end was completely unexpected, which I always appreciate, as well as the book's portrayal of the flawed reality of humans.

“When I watch my daughter and my granddaughter telling themselves stories, I think about the ones that have crossed my lips over the years. Each so familiar, I didn’t have to think before pulling them out, laying them down in slow succession, dominoes that line up, then fall into my children’s ears.”

My thanks to Quercus Books for an eARC via NetGalley of ‘Banyan Moon’ by Thao Thai.

This is the story of three generations of Vietnamese women and their home, Banyan House, located in the swamplands near to the Florida coast.

Ann Tran receives a call from her estranged mother, Hương, with the news that her beloved grandmother, Minh, has died. To complicate matters Ann has just discovered that her live-in boyfriend, Noah, cheated on her. Oh, and she is also pregnant. Uncertain about her future, Ann travels to Florida to assist her mother in sorting out her grandmother’s possessions at Banyan House.

Ann is surprised to learn that Minh has left the crumbling Gothic mansion to Hương and herself. Yet does she want to give up her life in Michigan even if she and her mother can heal the rift between them?

This is a character driven novel that moves between the viewpoints of the three women. Following her death, Minh is existing in a state of limbo observing the living. In later chapters Minh travels back to 1960s Vietnam to share her experiences of the war and later her immigration to the USA where she makes a home with her young children.

‘Banyan Moon’ is a novel that focuses on the bond between mothers and daughters. Over the course of the novel the women slowly come to a greater understanding of each other. I found Thao Thai’s writing elegant and lyrical and I appreciated her inclusion of Vietnamese mythology and customs within the narrative.

Overall, while I rarely read family sagas, ‘Banyan Moon’ proved an engaging story and a promising debut.

Actual Rating: 4.5/5 stars

“I come from a tribe of women who are ravaged and joyous, loud, raging, tied to our own convoluted histories. We are a knot of branches, mud-speckled and ever-searching.”

When it comes to literary fiction, multi-generational family-saga’s focusing on mother-daughter relationships are like catnip to me. So when I was offered the change to review an early copy of Thao Thai’s debut novel covering just those themes, I jumped at the opportunity. I was not disappointed.
With remarkable skill, Thai relays a story of generational grief, motherhood and the Vietnamese immigrant experience, as a mother and daughter collide following the death of their family matriarch.

We follow three generations of the Tran-women; Ann, who seemingly lives the American-dream life as a successful illustrator in Michigan, her estrange mother Huong, and matriarch Ming who’s always acted as a mediator in the tense relationship of the former two. When Ann’s life is shaken up by the surprise of a positive pregnancy-test, followed closely by the contrasting news that her grandmother Ming has passed away, she returns to their ancestral home (the titular Banyan House) to meet up with her estrange mother, and get their affairs in order. Under the same roof for the first time in years, mother and daughter must face the simmering questions of their past and their uncertain futures, while trying to rebuild their relationship without the one person who’s always held them together.

From the very first chapter, the novel shines in setting up three strong and well-rounded protagonists; interesting and engaging on their own, but even more so when pitted against each other in their complex dynamics. Within the opening chapter, the tension between these women is already palpable, as we’re introduced to them through a flashback of the three of them on a beach-stroll in 1998. Already; misunderstandings, resentment, expectations and unspoken traumas have their relationship on thin ice at that time. Years later, we see how these cracks have formed into caverns, dividing the family and creating patterns that prove difficult to break.
Like with any of my favourite generational tales, the lives of these women neatly slot into each-other like a series of matryoshka dolls; each unique, but echoing of each-other into a repeating cycle. Their developed characters and individual humanity makes their dynamics relatable and understandable to the reader, regardless of your own family-experiences.
All of this is strengthened and supported by the immersive setting of their gothic-, historical mansion; a home that (literally) carries their family legacy within its walls. Without any supernatural elements involved, there is a sense of haunting within these walls; not a ghostly one, but one of history and lived experiences that left a mark. In such, I also love the thematic implications of the novels name. Banyan trees, also known as strangler-figs, grow on top of other trees and send their roots down through cracks and branches, just like the memories and experiences of these women do to the generations that follow them. It’s a metaphor that’s slightly on the nose, but easily forgiven as it works in context.

Thematically, Banyan Moon reminded me somewhat of Ocean Vuongs debut novel On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous. Although Thai’s prose doesn’t reach the lyricism of Vuongs poetic background, both present a beautiful atmospheric tale of motherhood and multiple generations of Vietnamese-American immigration. If you loved one, I highly recommend the other.

Many thanks to Quercus Books for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

The story is told from the point of view of three Vietnamese American women – Minh, her daughter Hu’o’ng and Hu’o’ng’s daughter, Ann. Ann’s story is set in the present day but Hu’o’ng’s moves back and forth in time between her childhood in Vietnam and her life in America. Minh’s story is told through an unique perspective: from beyond the grave where she exists in a kind of limbo, able to observe Ann and Hu’o’ng’s grief at her death but also to relive memories of her early life in Vietnam before she was forced to flee to America because of the Vietnam War.

The mysterious, rambling and now rather dilapidated Banyan House has played an important part in all three women’s lives. For Minh it was a tangible sign of of her entrepreneurial spirit and determination to provide a secure home for her children. For Hu’o’ng and Ann it has acted at various times as a place of sanctuary. It has also witnessed dramatic events, as the reader will discover.

Minh’s death brings Ann and Hu’o’ng back to Banyan House after a period of estrangement. Initially, their grief is the only thing that seems to connect them. ‘We’re lost without her, our faithful interpreter.’ Gradually the author allows the reader to unpick the complex reasons for their estrangement – feelings of being abandoned, of being displaced or being misunderstood. The process of repairing their relationship is made up of tentative steps: small acts of kindness, unexpected discoveries, reassurance and ultimately a shared stake in the future.

All three women are believable characters, each having endured heartbreak and struggled with the realities of motherhood. None of them are infallible and all have made mistakes, saying things in anger or frustration that can’t be unsaid. What draws one into the story is seeing how they move on from this. I enjoyed Ann’s spiky, sarcastic humour, which you suspect is something of a protective carapace, and her growing determination to make an independent life for herself. Learning more of Hu’o’ng’s back story made me admire her strength, something obviously inherited from her mother who, even when dying, refused to go quietly. The author resists the temptation to make the male characters either wholly good or bad although some definitely tend more towards the latter.

There are subtle references to the prejudice faced by immigrants – for example, Ann being described as ‘exotic’ by her boyfriend’s mother and Hu’o’ng’s experiences on her honeymoon. It’s notable that, in contrast to other family members, Minh, Hu’o’ng and Ann nurture their Vietnamese heritage whether that’s through the food, religious practices or inherited stories of their culture.

Ann and Hu’o’ng’s quiet journey to reconciliation threatens to be derailed by Ann’s discovery of a secret that Minh has kept from her daughter. Should she tell Hu’o’ng, possibly tainting her memories of her mother or keep it to herself? As Minh warns from beyond the grave, secrets are a menace. ‘They will spill from your mouth like angry, writhing eels, or they will fill you up until you combust. There is no escaping them.’

I thoroughly enjoyed this absorbing multi-generational story about love, loss, motherhood and the healing of fractured family relationships. It’s an impressive debut.

Fantastic debut novel. Three generations of Vietnamese American women unearthing long-buried secrets; love and folk tales revolve around a massive and mysterious house.

A family saga, Asian culture and excellent storytelling. I was kept reading by the stories of this great characters, well plotted strong women.
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher for this ARC, all opinions are mine

Thank you to Netgalley and Quercus for the advanced copy and allowing me to read and review before publication.

Banyan Moon tells the interwoven stories of three generations of women of Vietnamese heritage; grandmother Minh, mother Hu'o'ng and daughter Ann. Their's has not been an easy past, and the multi-narrative allows us to see the pain and heartache all three women have endured, interwoven with the almost Gothic-like Banyan House that draws them all back together.

Ann hears of her beloved grandmother's death and races home to Florida, leaving behind a seemingly broken relationship. Having been estranged from her mother for some time, theirs is, at first, an incredibly prickly relationship. Both have very differing ideas about what motherhood and love truly is - Ann having felt abandoned by Hu'o'ng for many years, and Hu'o'ng feeling that she did what she had to do to ensure her daughter's happiness and safety. Their love for Minh, however, draws them together and they begin to rebuild their relationship. Alongside this, Ann herself has discovered she is pregnant and is questioning how good a mother she could possibly be with so much resentment towards her own mother.

We see the three very different stories of the women: Minh tells of a great love with her husband, but having to flee Vietnam for America to keep her two children safe; Hu'o'ng reminisces painfully over her abusive relationship with Ann's father; and Ann, in present day, trying to find her way in completely unchartered territory alone for the first time. All the while, the house - needing complete renovation and a new lease of life - brings the women together and allows familial ties to reform.

This is a story of love, feminism, family and secrets. The characters are beautifully drawn, none of them infallible, and the reader cannot help but feel their joys and their pain alongside them. This is a book full of raw emotion and beautiful history.

The writing is wonderfully poetic throughout. The fallibility of the characters makes you love them one minute and hate them the next, but as their truths unfold, there is a quiet understanding left regarding their actions throughout their troubled pasts, particularly Hu'o'ng, who seems very difficult to like at first, but who seems to have endured so much. I have to admit, there were times when I favoured one character over others and found myself wanting to race through the chapters until I could get back to their story, but this was cleverly rectified by the author before the somewhat cathartic closure of the book.

As a debut novel, this is a triumph.

Banyan Moon by Thao Thai is a powerful debut novel that tells the story of three generations of strong women, the struggles they faced and the secrets they hide.
Ann is the daughter of Huong, and the grand daughter of Minh, a woman who escaped Vietnam in the years after the war , moving to the USA to raise her daughter Huong. Ann who was born in the States has a successful career as an artist and a seemingly happy relationship with her boyfriend, Noah, a college professor. However she is having creeping doubts about their relationship on a number of fronts and when he confesses his infidelity she is both angry and distraught, As if this was not enough emotional turmoil, she learns that her beloved grandmother ,Minh, has died. She returns to Florida for the funeral, where she will have to face her estranged mother and come to a decision about her future, a future that is complicated by a positive pregnancy test and a reunion with an old flame from high school.
Huong is devastated by her mother's death, she feels that Minh was the glue that held the family together and fears that without her there, she and Ann will drift even further apart. Ann has always resented that Huong will not tell her anything about her father , and Huong feels guilt about this, but has a very valid reason for keeping his identity secret given the tumultuousness and violence of their marriage. This does mean that she has always felt some anger and jealousy towards her mother Minh because of her closeness to Ann, she feels like Minh stole Ann as a second chance at motherhood given that Minh was not always the greatest of mothers to her own children.
The complex family dynamics that drive the plot of this story really held my attention and I found myself caring for these women as though they were real, I was invested in their decisions and their relationships. I felt that the use of three interlinking timelines to tell the story was really effective , and I particularly liked the description of Minh's life in Vietnam during the war. There is something of a mystery storyline as part of the plot, and that was fine, but what really sold me on the book were the characters and the writing style, both of which were particularly strong for a debut. This is definitely an author I will be looking out for in the future.
I read and reviewed an ARC courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher, all opinions are my own.

This book had so much potential to be a favorite. Multiple generations, mother-daughter relationships, immigration, Asian culture. The writing was lovely and there were many great parts, but I didn't loved it as much as I had hoped.

The characters were strong and realistic, but sometimes left me conflicted because I wasn't always sure of their motivations. I wish there was more about Minh’s migration from Vietnam to US and how she got the Banyan House.

At the end, I felt that some storylines were resolved too easily and some not at all.

"I see Banyan House for what it is: a home for women, a shaggy, worn, and vicious protector of the bruised, the tender. We grew up in that house, and in turn, it grew inward on us."

A wonderful debut novel, Banyan Moon is a multigenerational story of the resilient Tran family women. Minh is the matriarch, mother to Huang and grandmother to Ann. Told from three different narratives, Banyan House spans from Minh's life in Vietnam, to modern-day Florida. It is after Minh dies that Ann returns to Florida after several years and reunites with her estranged mother. Minh leaves her home, the Banyan House to both of them.

This is a story about making peace; it is about grief, love and forgiveness and always having each other's back in the best and worst of times. Through the healing process, life-changing secrets are uncovered.

The only let-down for me was that Minh seemed to have a total disconnection from her Vietnamese roots and culture as soon as she landed on American soil. There seemed to be no culture shock, or even a language barrier which just seemed very unrealistic.

I like this type of books, intergenerational ones with lots of interesting story behind. Unfortunately this one didn't tick all the boxes for me. The writing style wasn't my cup of tea and the main character was very irritating. I also have a big dislike for surprise pregnancies and cheating without an apparent reason. The structure and magical realism didn't work out for me either. I don't know, there was something missing.

At first, I felt drawn to the character of Ann in this multigenerational family saga told through the voices of Ann, her mother and grandmother. I began to dislike her when I realised how unforgiving she was towards everybody, some with good reason, others with little or none. Her mother isn’t much more likeable but I felt sorry for her.

There isn’t much in the way of joy in this book. If you take pleasure in reading about other families’ misery then you’ll probably enjoy it. If you persevere, you will learn about the earlier lives of the three women, the events and paths they took that shaped their characters. Some of the writing is quite beautiful but I found many of the analogies quite pithy and irritating. Ultimately the content, the structure, and the writing style just aren’t for me.

With thanks to NetGalley and Quercus Books for a review copy. Quercus invited me to read this as I’d enjoyed The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo but it, in my opinion, is a far better read than this.

Three generations, Ann (granddaughter) Huong (mother) and Minh (grandmother). It switches between Vietnam and Florida and in time as well.

All in all an i pressing e debut novel, good characters and de cent plot line.

Thanks to Netgallery for the ARC.

A gorgeous and absorbing family saga. Thao Thai's writing is absolutely beautiful and her characters are complex and compelling.

Thao Thai's debut novel, Banyan Moon, tells the intergenerational story of the Tran family - Ann, Huong and Minh - and covers decades of their lives spent in Vietnam and America. The novel is structured through alternating first person narratives; the intimacy of the first person brings you close to the emotional journey of each woman, and by the end of this tale you feel you know them all intimately.

There was some very fine writing here, not obtrusive in any way, and Thai allowed her characters to live and breathe on the page very naturally. There is a wonderful mix of the personal and the global in this work - the scenes detailing Minh's life in Vietnam during the war were exceptionally well done.

This is an epic, sweeping debut from a writer who is definitely one to watch. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with these women. Excellent stuff.

Thank you to the publishers and Netgalley for the ARC.

This was such a beautiful read that made me feel things. That’s important.

We follow three different characters in this book, all women in the same family. We get to know them throughout different timelines in their lives. It contains themes of motherhood, perseverance, and love.

Even though my family doesn’t have a history of immigration, I like reading books about that theme. I think these types of stories is a representation for so many people and that the stories often times feel so real and emotional.
I really, really liked this book (which is a debut!) and I would love to see what Thao Thai next project will be!