Major kudos to Xueting Christine Ni, the editor and translator of Sinophagia: A Celebration of Chinese Horror for a stellar job of compiling an amazing anthology of Chinese horror and tales of the supernatural. This collection is a labor of love, and Ni starts the book with an introduction of how she started the monumental task of reaching out to Chinese authors because she wanted to bring these tales of horror to light, as the genre is often neglected even in Chinese culture. Unfortunately, she also notes that many of the submission she received were heavily misogynistic, so I actually appreciate the feminist works in this book even more. She not only wanted to showcase acclaimed Chinese authors but also support new and budding authors too.

Translation is an underrated art, and Ni does a beautiful job of maintaining a composed and descriptive writing style throughout the anthology and showcasing the original author’s work. I usually have a little trouble with anthology works because of the drastic change in tone, style, and writing talent between different authors and stories, but here is a great example of how having the same translator can really make the work cohesive.

Each story really resonated with me in an impactful and different way, and I had to pause in between some of them to recollect my thoughts - much in the same way as after watching an episode of Black Mirror. This compilation is very well curated and each story includes a wonderfully written editor’s note on the story’s background. My personal favorites were The Yin Yang Pot, as I’m partial to any story about love and food, Ti’Naang, and Forbidden Rooms.

These stories are much more complex than the scary stories most of us grew up with. Some tales illustrate the changes between ancient and modern China and provide background and commentary on mental health issues, geographical conflicts, feminism, parental-child conflicts, and the societal effects of long working hours and sweeping political decisions like the one-child policy. On the horror side, there are tales of psychological thrillers, survival horror, ghostly beings, supernatural beasts, and elements of the Chinese Gothic genre.

I’m not someone who usually seeks out scary stories (or actively avoids them), but this book caught my attention because of the introduction to a different culture’s interpretation of the horror genre. I think Ni did a fine job of celebrating Chinese horror stories and makes me look forward to the future of horror, feminist works, AANHPI stories, and translated literature.

Thank you to NetGalley and Solaris for providing an ARC for review.