Review of Things in Nature Merely Grow by Yiyun Li

*Things in Nature Merely Grow* by Yiyun Li (2025). Published by Fourth Estate.

If you’re new here, and stumbled upon this blog through the mythical powers of the Internet, welcome! I know a lot of visitors to my website are people who randomly come upon this website through search engines like Google, but I also do have a lot of visitors who come back. Regardless: my name is Ashley, and I started this blog in order to keep track of everything I’m coming across in the world.

About a year ago (at the time of typing this) I quit my job as a professional film critic to explore what was out there in the world when it came to publishing about the movies and books I wanted to see, not just what was popular in the moment. Digital media and working within it can be fun and all, but it can be grinding when you’re just chasing after all the latest trends and clicks for SEO.

I started this blog four years ago, during the pandemic, but never really took it seriously beyond the occasional post here and there about what I was up to. In 2023 I began to realize the impact this blog was having on me, and other people were reaching out about reading it, so I expanded. Once I quit my job, I decided to focus on the blog more while job hunting, as I do make a few pennies here and there from the display ads on the screen.

During my time job hunting, in-between applying to jobs here and there, it happened to coincide with an economic crisis worldwide, which meant I had even more extended time applying to jobs. So in order to fill my nights, and not go completely insane from the monotony of applications, I tapped into my advance copy collection.

This blog post is special because it’s actually a book I wasn’t procrastinating on. Some advance copies I’ve had for a hot minute, but because I’ve been focusing on other things, I’ve been majorly waiting to read them. With due dates approaching, that’s certain a motivator.

Li’s book is one I actually requested late in the game on NetGalley, then I read it immediately. It was a quick read, as it clocks in at a little under 200 pages total, so I was able to finish it in about an hour and a half.

Let’s get into the review! I can sense this intro is getting a little long, so I don’t want to keep rambling. Much love to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance copy of the book.

Yiyun’s Li reflections on her sons’ lives after they both commit suicide as teenagers.

Before we get into the review of this book, I have a confession to make: I actually have never read any of Li’s novels before diving into this book. I am very aware of their existence and synopses; I just have never gotten around to reading them. My Goodreads to-read list has 2,200 books on it at the time of typing this, which means I have so much on my mind already books-wise.

I do want to read her other work, but when I cracked open my digital Kindle copy of this book, I recognized the opening words immediately. Despite not having read her novels, I have read Li’s articles she’s published online, including the one she put in The New Yorker about the suicides of her sons. It’s that essay that opens up this book.

This is very much a book reflecting on life and death. For those unaware before now, both of Li’s sons, Vincent and James, committed suicide as teenagers. Vincent killed himself in 2017 when he was 16, and James in 2024 when he was 19 and attending university in Princeton.

We open the book with introducing what happened and Li’s reactions when the suicides were reported to her. I sensed a bit of detachment from the way she wrote about James’ suicide, as if she almost expected it (she talks about her therapist even asking a week prior to the suicide if her son was considering killing himself) and it was an inevitable aspect of life.

But once we learn about the death aspect of what’s going on, I would say this becomes largely a book about life and the memories that are associated with her sons. Whether it’s them reading a certain book or memories from their homes in California and Princeton, her sons still exist.

In death, according to Li, they still are who they were. They don’t stop being a human being that existed in her life at one point. And despite the tragedies that have happened to her husband and she, they continue to move forward and live their lives. They’re never going to forget their sons, but nature continues onward in its vicious and beautiful cycles.

Nature plays a key role in Yiyun Li’s writing in this one as well. Through gardening, it helps her cope with her grief while teaching her more about the natural world around her. Whent here was no logic in what happened, there seems to be more logic when you understand the Earth and its story as well.

Overall Thoughts

I think the introduction of the book is fantastic, which is unsurprising to me because it’s the essay that was published in The New Yorker. It was that essay that led me to want to read this book and acquire an advance copy, and it’s very well-written. This entire book is well-written—don’t get me wrong on that.

Yiyun Li is a master of her craft, and I want to read her novels in the near future. I just have so much to do and read, so I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to do so. I do have to say about this book though: I don’t think I’m the right demographic for it.

I can appreciate and have empathy with what she is writing about here, but I couldn’t connect with what she was writing about. I am not a mother, nor have I experienced suicide in my life. I think if you’re someone who has experienced something similar as Li, you would find this book moving. I can see others enjoying this book a lot, but I started finding it repetitive in some ways.

I say if it interests you, definitely go check it out. Give it a chance and form your own opinions! Taste is so incredibly subjective at the end of the day.

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