Absolutely fantastic. Probably the most amazing text on the experience of war and being a refugee, on the dehumanising nature of both, on how to remain and become your own person after trauma, and on the importance of stories, fairytales, and the little things in life that are crucial to being human.

Not mind blowing, but really well written and quite a quick read! Also liked the political side of it.

The writing is absolutely beautiful. I would almost say that it reads like a meditation - like Lispector is guiding you through your breathing. She writes in little paragraphs that have their own climax: each one explores death and life and the idea of living the "instant" in a way that seems urgent and anxious, then ultimately quietens down when she tells you that, actually, it's okay to die, it's okay to live, and it's okay to be caught in the middle of everything, including existence.

The title is probably my favourite thing about this book - "living water" or "jelly fish", both translations sum up perfectly the tension between absolute calm and electric fury that runs through the writing. This is the kind of book I would read when feeling anxious - it is both delicate therapy and reckless encouragement of anger.

However, it is ultimately too long. At 88 pages I wouldn't usually say that, but considering the absence of plot, setting, and character, Lispector's inner monologue and abstract musings just get repetitive after the first half, and in some instances border on unnecessarily problematic. This would have worked much better as a short (non)story.

Not as good as Agua Viva. Distracting narrator who felt unnecessary, and a discussion of poverty that had a lot of potential but ultimately just concluded that it's sad and there's nothing we can do about it.

(More of a 3.5 stars)

The story is told in two parallel narratives: the past and the present.

The past is wonderful - it chronicles the main character's relationship with his ex-boyfriend, his partner's HIV diagnosis and following treatment, and their life together in London. The main character decides to go back home to Singapore after this relationship fails, and the chapters set in the present then follow him on his journey to figuring out what he wants to do with his life. This part brought the rating down for me quite a lot - it takes a long time to really get going, and mainly reads like a shallow summer romance + travel journal.

The only character who felt well rounded from start to finish is Rob, the ex-partner. The other characters were ultimately interesting, but took an incredibly long time to exit their state of cliche and caricature.

The way Singapore is portrayed also felt slightly off; the local language, Singlish, is barely used, and even those characters who have never left the country don't speak it in the novel. The only people who employ it are random workers who say as little as one sentence. While many people seem to be under the impression that Singlish is only spoken by the lower classes, it is incredibly widespread and spoken by basically everyone. I assume the author wanted the book to be accessible to people outside of Singapore, but it just felt inauthentic and forced.

What I will say is that the portrayal of gay culture was really fun, and a bit of a nostalgic throwback to when I first watched the American Queer as Folk; the excessive clubbing and drug taking paired with reckless sex definitely had something familiar to it.

A beautiful and moving memoir by a phenomenal writer and wonderful person. Rich in historical context and political analysis without losing any of Achebe's characteristic simplicity and human interest. Couldn't recommend it enough!