Ponti by Sharlene Teo is this haunting, beautifully layered novel that lingers in your mind like a ghost long after you finish it. Set in Singapore, it weaves together the lives of three women—Szu, her mother Amisa, and
circe—across different timelines. Amisa is a faded B-movie actress clinging to her past glory, Szu is her awkward daughter drowning in resentment, and Circe is the former friend who reconnects with Szu years later, dredging up old wounds. The book’s magic lies in how it captures the suffocating weight of unfulfilled dreams and the messy bonds between mothers and daughters. Teo’s prose is poetic but sharp, like sunlight cutting through humidity. It’s not just a story about ghosts (literal or metaphorical); it’s about how places and people haunt us, how nostalgia can be a prison. I especially loved the way Singapore itself feels like a character—humid, restless, full of secrets. If you enjoy slow-burn literary fiction with a gothic tinge, this’ll grip you.
What struck me hardest was the portrayal of female rage—quiet, simmering, often misdirected. Szu’s loneliness is palpable, and Circe’s guilt feels like a stone in your shoe. The novel doesn’t offer easy resolutions, which makes it all the more authentic. Also, fans of '
the vegetarian' or '
convenience store woman' might vibe with this—it’s got that same eerie, introspective energy.