The novel is thoughtful, often sharp in its observations, though not always as propulsive as its setup might suggest.
There’s a familiar promise attached to novels about messy families: humour, dysfunction, and hope that something might come back together.
It’s not a novel that announces its intentions immediately. But once it settles into its rhythm, it becomes difficult to look away.
This is less interested in the mechanics of competition and more concerned with what prolonged observation does to a person’s sense of self.
It captures adolescence in a way that feels grounded and enduring, avoiding the temptation to romanticise or trivialise the experience.
This is recognisably an Emily Henry novel: sharply observed, emotionally aware, and built around characters who feel like they exist.
It reads less like a thriller and more like a slow psychological unraveling, one that reveals itself through subtle shifts in perception.
It’s a book that asks you to pay attention—to the work, to the people who do it, and to the systems that shape it.
It’s a kind of novel that leaves you slightly off-balance, because it refuses to offer emotional clarity readers are often trained to expect.
Shanghai Girls by Lisa See is a quietly powerful novel that balances historical detail with emotional depth.