What a brutal, breathtaking read. Immaculate Conception is a scalpel of a novel—sharp, deliberate, and terrifyingly intimate. Ling Ling Huang doesn’t just imagine a dystopia ruled by art, algorithms, and empathy devices—she dares to dissect what it means to be seen, used, and recreated in a world that commodifies trauma, creativity, and care. This book didn’t just hook me—it sank into my skin and dragged me under.

At the center of this speculative spiral are Enka and Mathilde, art school best friends turned estranged rivals turned technological entanglements. Raised on opposite sides of a class-divided society, Mathilde and Enka’s bond is forged through longing, admiration, and unspoken competition. Enka, from the impoverished fringes, sacrifices her original medium to make art the system will fund. Mathilde, raised in an elite enclave, is tragic and mesmerizing—a child of 9/11 whose grief births museum-worthy work. Together, they are what art school rumors thrive on: one is brilliant, the other beautiful. But in Huang’s hands, both are brilliantly broken.

This novel is speculative fiction that feels alarmingly now. The invention of neuro-tech like SCAFFOLD, the rise of generative AI and its impact on artists, and the corporatization of empathy and creative expression are chilling in their familiarity. Huang explores how art—particularly that of marginalized people—is surveilled, sanitized, and sold. Mathilde’s “immaculate” pregnancy for a museum piece? Horrifying. Enka’s descent into mind-merging obsession? Equally so. Their friendship morphs into a parasitic loop of mutual need and betrayal that left me reeling.

I found Enka to be a masterfully unlikeable narrator. Her resentment, her hunger to matter, her desire to be Mathilde or inside Mathilde—it’s all uncomfortable, and deeply real. I couldn’t look away. Huang’s prose pulses with this discomfort: lyrical, ruthless, utterly unflinching. There are lines I read twice just to feel the sting again.

If I had one critique, it’s that the ending wobbles under the weight of so many big ideas—cloning, artistic conservatorship, divine birth, and tech-fueled codependency. I wanted a slightly cleaner landing. Still, it’s a near-perfect read for fans of dystopian intimacy, techno-capitalist critique, and messy, toxic friendships. I closed the book, gutted and in awe.

Ling Ling Huang, if you read this, you have my whole heart. This is easily one of my top reads of the year, and I’ll be chomping at the bit to see what you write next.

📖 Read this if you love: feminist dystopias, speculative fiction about art and obsession, and toxic queer friendships with body horror undertones.

🔑 Key Themes: Surveillance and Artistic Exploitation, Toxic Intimacy and Obsession, Techno-Capitalism and Neurology, Class Stratification and Empathy.