What do I say about this book? R.F. Kuang can do no wrong. I went into this book knowing very little about the premise (seriously, I skimmed the summary and description and jumped at the opportunity to read another book by Kuang - I LOVE HER), and I was instantly blown away.

Told from the first-person perspective of unsuccessful author Juniper (June), the book starts off with a bang: June's very successful author "friend," Athena, tragically dies in her apartment in front of June after a night out together. Athena had just finished writing the manuscript for a book she'd been working on for a while and June takes the only physical copy of this book that exists from Athena's department less than a couple of hours after her death. June convinces herself that her intentions are pure - she only wants to read Athena's last work and find a way to honor her genius and memory. But of course, she can't keep herself from acting as editor and finding ways to "fix" the manuscript. It's just an exercise to break her out of her writing slump...right?

Naturally, this only continues to escalate and quickly spirals out of June's control. All the while her actions become more and more outrageous and incomprehensible. Except that's just the point, isn't it? When portrayed in this way, we get a glimpse into the increasingly ridiculous ways June justifies her behaviors throughout this debacle. As a reader it's easy to watch June become more delusional as she digs her heels in further. What we are bearing witness to, however, is something that happens more often than we care to admit in the current publishing industry. Kuang manages to give a disturbingly accurate portrayal of a white woman victimizing herself and playing the "reverse racism" card at almost every negative encounter.

This book is timely, critical in wonderfully controversial ways, and gripping. The narrator, Helen Laser, hits the nail on the head and captures June's voice perfectly. After the first chapter, I didn't want to put this book down! It grabbed me by the collar and pulled me single-handedly out of my reading slump.
I'd recommend this book to anyone who loves Kuang's work, is interested in some dirty details about the publishing industry, or wants to painfully cringe-laugh at the current state of denial real-life people like June are in when it comes to racism, appropriation, and the theft of stories that aren't ours to tell.