A poignant coming of age story centering 2 Chinese youth balancing their friendship with the discordant past between their families that feels so utterly foreign to them because they’re growing up in a different time. Beautiful told.

* C o c o o n* is a quiet, haunting novel about friendship, family, memory, and the ways history can continue shaping people long after the events themselves have ended.

At its heart are Li Jiaqi and Cheng Gong, two childhood friends who grew up together in a Chinese provincial city before finding their way back to each other years later. Their reunion gradually opens the door to a mystery reaching back to their grandparents and the Cultural Revolution, particularly one night in 1967 that left lasting consequences for both families.

What I found most compelling was the way the novel treats the past. This isn’t simply a story about uncovering an old secret and putting the pieces together. The mystery becomes a way of examining what families inherit from one generation to the next: guilt, resentment, silence, abandonment, grief, and even the stories people tell themselves in order to survive.

Both Jiaqi and Cheng Gong carry complicated relationships with their families, and neither character is especially easy to understand all the time. I actually appreciated that. Jiaqi, in particular, can be difficult and emotionally distant, while Cheng Gong’s experiences of abandonment and loneliness give his sections a different emotional weight. Their flaws make the novel feel less like a neatly constructed family saga and more like an honest examination of people shaped by circumstances they didn’t choose.

The structure takes its time. The alternating perspectives and movement between different periods can feel disorienting initially, particularly as the connections between the families gradually emerge. This is definitely a book that asks for patience rather than rewarding speed-reading. Once the pieces began to connect, though, I found myself increasingly absorbed in the emotional history underneath the mystery.

The writing is where Cocoon really shines. There is something simultaneously lyrical and unsettling about Zhang Yueran’s prose, particularly in the way ordinary memories can suddenly become loaded with grief or significance. Jeremy Tiang’s translation also deserves recognition for preserving that atmosphere in English. The language feels elegant without losing the weight of what the characters are carrying.

I also appreciated that the Cultural Revolution isn’t treated merely as historical scenery. Its consequences are personal and intimate. We see history filtered through families, relationships, childhood memories, and the things people refuse or struggle to talk about. The result is a novel less concerned with providing easy answers than with asking what happens when people spend years trying to understand the wounds left behind by previous generations.

Cocoon won’t be for readers looking for a fast-paced mystery. Its rhythm is deliberate, its characters complicated, and its revelations arrive gradually. But for readers who enjoy literary fiction that explores family histories, generational trauma, friendship, memory, and the long shadow of political upheaval, there is a lot here to sit with.

A thoughtful, melancholic, and beautifully translated novel about the secrets we inherit and the truths we spend our lives trying to uncover.

Thank you to World Editions and NetGalley for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Cocoon is a fairly slow-paced, quiet story, which may not suit all readers, but it explores some interesting themes, looking back on the Cultural Revolution and the impact it had on the lives of everyday families. The story itself, uncovering the truth of what happened between their grandfathers in decades past, was engaging and held my interest. The dual POV narrative worked fine for this, but there were times when I felt there was little distinction between the two voices, to the point I sometimes had to go back to check whose POV I was in, as you couldn't easily tell them apart. I am not sure if this was a result of the translation or if it was always that way in the original text too, but for me that was the book's main weak point, as more distinctive voices for the two characters would have helped to drive the story forward despite its generally slower pace. Nonetheless, the book expressed some interesting viewpoints and is definitely worth reading if you enjoy slower, more contemplative works of modern fiction. I am giving it 4 stars.

I loved following Jiaqi, haunted by the death of her father, a poet, scholar and later businessman who left the family home for another woman and died a tragic and early death. She meets his former colleagues and friends, looking for answers. We also follow her childhood friend Cheng Gong as he uncovers the reasons behind his grandfather's injuries and disability. The two families are linked by their history and I liked seeing it intertwine.
I found the translation really well written and the tone dark but poetic and nostalgic. The book was slow at the beginning but gained pace later and became more interesting. A really enjoyable, poignant read.

In the beginning of the book, we learnt that Jiaqi had recently gone back to Jinan to see her dying grandfather albeit reluctantly. There, she met Cheng Gong, who surprisingly (or unsurprisingly?) stayed there almost his entire life. The two of them were linked by the past; the friendship they shared at school, all the way back to their grandparents, who lived in the same neighborhood.

We are then introduced to two narrators, who alternately recount their own experiences and feelings from childhood growing up to each other. Right away, I was fascinated with the storytelling method. Like, how Li Jiaqi would be referred as "you" in Cheng Gong's character and vice versa.

The book was full of "what-ifs" and children's adventure to discover the truth, though we were soon made understood that unearthing something hidden came with a cost, most of the time only hurting all the parties involved.

Cheng Gong's grandpa was attacked during Cultural Revolution, and he believed his life was miserable due to this incident. There believed to be two perpetrators, one was still on the loose with his identity unknown. Without revealing too much about it, I'd talk of his character instead. I resonate with him, he rarely got attached to anyone due to his fear of abandonment. But no matter how careful he was, he found time and time again people walked out of his life and it was painful to read. He was a lonely boy labeled as rebel.

Li Jiaqi is a difficult character to like. She was hardly ever nice to Peixuan, even when she showed a bit of kindness, it was driven by the need to seek the latter's help, no more. As shown in the opening of the book, she was unwilling to visit her grandpa who might not live for long. She was also extremely rude to her loving mother. The only person who she admired, respected, and tried so hard to win over was her father. I was immediately reminded of this quote by Bonnie Burstow that says:
"Often father and daughter look down on mother (woman) together. They exchange meaningful glances when she misses a point. They agree that she is not bright as they are, cannot reason as they do. This collusion does not save the daughter from the mother's fate."
I found that ironic. Cheng Gong craved for a mother's love and here was Li Jiaqi, wasting hers.

You can probably tell that I loathed her chapters, it was outrageous but I'm glad I persevered. I highlighted so many parts of the book, there are so many relatable and beautiful passages that will remain in my mind for a long time. Such a wonderful read.

I got an early digital copy of 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐙𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧on 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 because I noticed it is part of the publisher's 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐀 𝐭𝐨 𝐙 collection. The story follows a family through the years, dealing with the aftermath of China's Cultural Revolution. Truth be told, I had to look up a few things about the history myself to understand the background of the plot, and doing that made the story click into place.

The book focuses on two childhood friends, 𝐋𝐢 𝐉𝐚𝐪𝐢 and 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐠, who meet up again after nearly 20 years apart. The chapters swap between their two points of view as they uncover a family secret and an old crime involving their grandfathers back in 1967. While there is a mystery to solve, the real focus is on how family trauma passes down through the generations.

It is a slow, heavy book that requires patience, but the characters are very well drawn. The storytelling feels intentional as it unpacks layers of family guilt and difficult relationships. 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠 does a really good job with the translation, making the English flow naturally without losing the specific cultural weight of the background.

A thoughtful translation that gives you plenty to think about.

Thank you to 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 and 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 for the digital copy.

Cocoon by Zhang Yueran - translated into English here by Jeremy Tiang - first appeared in 2016, and was the winner of the 2024 Singapore Literature Prize for translation. The novel is now being republished as part of World Editions's A to Z of World Literature.

The Cultural Revolution in China is a subject which has been covered a number of times in literature - and is a subject on which a lot more could easily be said. Zhang Yuera focusses her story on two friends in a conversation of sorts - though two monologues might be more appropriate - and through this conversation we drift back through the decades to understand their families, their heritage and the way in which the Cultural Revolution changed their lives.

This is an epic novel, yet intimate in execution, and Yueran comes across as a novelist interesting in people and how the historical can impact the present. The translation by Jeremy Tiang is superb. It is a novel which requires you to pay attention, but if you love intelligent, well-wirtten fiction then Cocoon is for you.

Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for the ARC.