Things in Nature Merely Grow

WINNER OF THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR MEMOIR 2026 LONGLISTED FOR THE BAILLIE GIFFORD PRIZE FOR NON-FICTION 2025 ‘The best book I have read this year’ DAVID NICHOLLS ‘Masterly … I'm in awe’ SALMAN RUSHDIE ‘Beautiful’ DOUGLAS STUART ‘Extraordinary’ SARAH MOSS ‘A formidable testament to a mother’s love’ SARA COLLINS ‘There is no good way to say this,’ Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book. ‘There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.’ There is no good way to say this – because words fall short. In this remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance, Li turns to thinking and searching for words that might hold a place for her son, James. Li does ‘the things that work’: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death. Things in Nature Merely Grow is a testament to Li’s indomitable spirit. Winner of the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Non-Fiction 2026 Longlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Awards 2025 Finalist for the National Book Award for Non-Fiction 2025 ‘To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it’ Observer ‘Unlike any other book I've read … an unforgettable monument to endurance’ Sunday Times ‘A book that has not a single spare word in it … I loved it so much’ Ann Patchett, author of Tom Lake ‘A meditation on living and radical acceptance’ Guardian ‘A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away’ New York Times ‘One of the most astounding memoirs I have ever read’ Pandora Sykes, author of How Do We Know We're Doing It Right? ‘I will return to it for the rest of my life’ Charlotte Wood, author of Stone Yard Devotional ‘A manifesto of living, not dying’ Sinéad Gleeson, The Week

WINNER OF THE PULITZER PRIZE FOR MEMOIR 2026 LONGLISTED FOR THE BAILLIE GIFFORD PRIZE FOR NON-FICTION 2025 ‘The best book I have read this year’ DAVID NICHOLLS ‘Masterly … I'm in awe’ SALMAN RUSHDIE ‘Beautiful’ DOUGLAS STUART ‘Extraordinary’ SARAH MOSS ‘A formidable testament to a mother’s love’ SARA COLLINS ‘There is no good way to say this,’ Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book. ‘There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home.’ There is no good way to say this – because words fall short. In this remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance, Li turns to thinking and searching for words that might hold a place for her son, James. Li does ‘the things that work’: including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death. Things in Nature Merely Grow is a testament to Li’s indomitable spirit. Winner of the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Non-Fiction 2026 Longlisted for the National Book Critics Circle Awards 2025 Finalist for the National Book Award for Non-Fiction 2025 ‘To state that this courageous book is a testament to love is an understatement. One is left altered by it’ Observer ‘Unlike any other book I've read … an unforgettable monument to endurance’ Sunday Times ‘A book that has not a single spare word in it … I loved it so much’ Ann Patchett, author of Tom Lake ‘A meditation on living and radical acceptance’ Guardian ‘A memoir unlike others, strange and profound and fiercely determined not to look away’ New York Times ‘One of the most astounding memoirs I have ever read’ Pandora Sykes, author of How Do We Know We're Doing It Right? ‘I will return to it for the rest of my life’ Charlotte Wood, author of Stone Yard Devotional ‘A manifesto of living, not dying’ Sinéad Gleeson, The Week

Yiyun Li's remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance as she considers the loss of her son James. "There is no good way to say this," Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book. "There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home." There is no good way to say this--because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, "a single point in a timeline." Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: "doing the things that work," including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death. This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving or mourning. As Li writes, "The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now." Things in Nature Merely Grow is a testament to Li's indomitable spirit.

Yiyun Li's remarkable, defiant work of radical acceptance as she considers the loss of her son James. "There is no good way to say this," Yiyun Li writes at the beginning of this book. "There is no good way to state these facts, which must be acknowledged. My husband and I had two children and lost them both: Vincent in 2017, at sixteen, James in 2024, at nineteen. Both chose suicide, and both died not far from home." There is no good way to say this--because words fall short. It takes only an instant for death to become fact, "a single point in a timeline." Living now on this single point, Li turns to thinking and reasoning and searching for words that might hold a place for James. Li does what she can: "doing the things that work," including not just writing but gardening, reading Camus and Wittgenstein, learning the piano, and living thinkingly alongside death. This is a book for James, but it is not a book about grieving or mourning. As Li writes, "The verb that does not die is to be. Vincent was and is and will always be Vincent. James was and is and will always be James. We were and are and will always be their parents. There is no now and then, now and later, only, now and now and now and now." Things in Nature Merely Grow is a testament to Li's indomitable spirit.