Tessa Yang’s debut novel The Jellyfish Problem officially released June 2nd, and the problem is that you haven’t read it yet. The novel follows Dr. Jo Ness–marine biologist, jellyfish enthusiast. After her best friend dies in an accident Jo herself feels responsible for, she drifts through life, unmoored and utterly alone. When her sort-of ex calls after 11 years of silence about a jellyfish problem, Jo hops on a plane and finds herself on a tiny island off coastal Maine that might be even more introverted than she is. What she discovers there is more than a giant, glowing red jellyfish that only appears on the full moon and terrorizes the people of Shattering.
What I expected: a somewhat cheesy monster-of-the-week X-Files episode with a sapphic twist. What I got: a delicate tale of grief interwoven with found family, a side of marine biology, and a dash of Japanese folklore. I loved it.
Although I wouldn’t categorize it as traditional sci-fi, The Jellyfish Problem includes both science and fiction. Each chapter starts out with jellyfish facts from Jo’s manuscript. (Fear not, it comes across less like reading out of a textbook and more like listening to your favorite teacher speak on their passions.) As someone with a degree in environmental studies, I appreciated the inclusion of issues that currently affect Maine: overfishing, climate change, conservation. Yang even referenced literature by my favorite scientist, Sylvia Earle (would recommend her Netflix documentary, Mission Blue, for anyone interested in marine biology!). I enjoyed living out my marine biologist dreams by following Jo and learning more about marine life. However, the jellyfish and Shattering are still rife with supernatural characteristics.
The Jellyfish Problem’s second defining trait has to be the characters. Firstly, Jo Ness is wholly relatable: prefers jellyfish to people, eats granola bars for dinner way too often, flies across the country at the drop of a hat when a pretty girl asks for help. The residents of Shattering, on the other hand, are rather strange and peculiar. After all, who else would choose to live so far from the rest of society? In addition to all the personality Yang has created, I am appreciative of all the characters of color and their diversity. Jo herself is Japanese and Scottish, Tony (a love interest) is Native American.
Tony is a subtle heartthrob. She’s steadfast, protective, and caring, but it’s delegated to the small moments and the little things. It doesn’t hurt that she’s tatted and runs a makeshift animal hospital out of her spare room. Romance definitely isn’t the primary plot but the love story felt sweet in a real-life grown up way.
The Jellyfish Problem ended up mysteriously wholesome. The only downfall for me is all the unanswered questions. I can look past the slight cheesiness of the plot but I’m a little miffed that I was left hanging. I suppose I’m supposed to chalk most of it up to the supernatural but the loose ends are still bothering me days later (and maybe that was Yang’s intention!). The characters didn’t seem bothered by the lack of answers but I would’ve rather had the epilogue tie up the loose strings instead of focusing on the HEA. Do I feel like it was a little unfinished? Yes. Would I still recommend The Jellyfish Problem to friends and family? Also yes. I look forward to reading more from Tessa Yang in the future.
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