Jennifer Haigh doesn’t usually do "flashy." If you’ve read Mercy Street or Heat and Light, you know she’s the queen of the slow burn, the kind of writer who maps out the geography of a broken heart like she’s working for National Geographic. But then comes Rabbit Moon by Jennifer Haigh, and suddenly we’re in the middle of a neon-soaked, pre-dawn Shanghai hit-and-run.
It’s a pivot. A big one.
The story kicks off with Lindsey Litvak, a 22-year-old American expat, lying on the pavement in China's "Miracle City." She’s six feet tall, has hair like a fire engine, and is currently dying. From there, the book basically explodes into this messy, beautiful, and deeply frustrating look at how families fall apart and—if they’re lucky—how they glue the shards back together.
The Litvaks and the Mess They Made
Honestly, the Litvak family is a lot. You’ve got Claire and Aaron, the parents who’ve been divorced for four years and still clearly hate each other’s guts. When they get the call about Lindsey, they have to fly to Shanghai and sit in a hospital room together.
Awkward? That's an understatement.
They’re trying to figure out how their "perfect" daughter ended up in a coma halfway across the world, but the truth is, they haven't really known her for years. Lindsey was hiding things. Big things. She wasn't just "teaching English." Haigh is amazing at showing how parents can look right at their kid and see a completely different person than the one who actually exists.
👉 See also: Ted Nugent State of Shock: Why This 1979 Album Divides Fans Today
Then there’s Grace. She’s the younger sister, adopted from China as a baby. While her parents are in Shanghai losing their minds, she’s stuck at a Quaker summer camp in New Hampshire with no phone. The contrast is wild. You’ve got the high-tech, frantic energy of Shanghai and the silent, bug-infested woods of New England.
Why the "Rabbit Moon" Title Matters
You might wonder about the name. The "Rabbit Moon" refers to that visual where the craters on the moon look like a rabbit—a common piece of folklore in many cultures, including China. In the book, it’s a recurring motif that ties into the opening of the Shanghai Disney Resort and the general "Mickey Mouse-ification" of the city.
But it’s also about perspective. Depending on where you stand and what you believe, you see a man in the moon or a rabbit. The Litvaks are all looking at the same tragedy, but they’re seeing completely different stories.
- Claire sees a tragedy caused by her ex-husband’s passivity.
- Aaron sees a crisis fueled by Claire’s emotional volatility.
- Lindsey sees a life she had to escape from because of a past trauma involving a family friend named Dean Farrell.
Shanghai as a Character
Most American authors writing about China make it feel like a postcard or a movie set. Haigh lived there for a few months to get the vibe right, and it shows. This isn't just a backdrop. The city’s "Year of the Monkey" energy is everywhere. It’s a place of "gross misfortune" and "dizzying reinvention."
We see the city through Johnny Du, Lindsey’s best friend. Johnny is a stylist, gay, and living a double life to keep his traditional parents happy. He’s the bridge between the American "outsider" experience and the reality of modern Shanghai. Through him, Haigh explores the "red thread" of fate—the idea that people who are meant to meet are connected by an invisible cord.
✨ Don't miss: Mike Judge Presents: Tales from the Tour Bus Explained (Simply)
It’s sort of mystical but also very grounded in the grime of the city.
The Problem with the Past
The book doesn't just stay in Shanghai. It jumps back to the "shocking event" that broke the family. Lindsey’s relationship with Dean Farrell—a man much older than her, a "trusted friend"—is the rot at the center of the story.
It’s handled with a lot of nuance. Haigh doesn't make it a simple black-and-white crime; she looks at the "moral ambiguity" of it. How does a girl recover from a first love that shouldn't have happened? Lindsey ran to the other side of the planet to find out.
Is It Worth the Read?
If you like thrillers that make you think, or family dramas that make you uncomfortable, yeah. It’s propulsive. The chapters are short, the pacing is tight, but the emotional weight is heavy.
What people get wrong about this book: It’s not a "missing person" mystery. We know where Lindsey is. The mystery is who she became after her family stopped looking.
🔗 Read more: Big Brother 27 Morgan: What Really Happened Behind the Scenes
It’s a story about the limits of language. Between the literal translation issues in China and the emotional "translation" issues between parents and children, everyone is talking, but nobody is hearing much.
Key Takeaways for Readers
- Check your assumptions: The book teaches us that we never truly know the people we love most. Everyone has a "Shanghai" in their head—a place they go to be someone else.
- The Red Thread is real: Relationships are messy, but they’re also persistent. Divorce doesn't actually end a family; it just changes the shape of it.
- Watch the details: Haigh uses motifs like the "Rabbit Moon" and technology (specifically smartphones) to show how connected—and disconnected—we are.
To get the most out of Rabbit Moon by Jennifer Haigh, pay close attention to the perspective shifts. The novel moves from the parents to Johnny, then eventually to Lindsey’s own memories. It’s like a puzzle where the final piece is only revealed in the very last section from Grace’s point of view.
If you’re heading into a book club with this one, focus the discussion on the "choice vs. chance" debate. Was Lindsey’s accident inevitable because of the "Year of the Monkey," or was it just a random car in a big city? Haigh doesn't give easy answers, which is exactly why the book stays with you long after you close it.
Actionable Next Steps:
Pick up a copy of the Barnes & Noble Book Club edition if you can; it includes an embossed cover and specific discussion guides that dive deeper into the "Red Thread" mythology used throughout the narrative. If you've already finished it, compare the portrayal of Shanghai here to Haigh’s portrayal of the American Rust Belt in Heat and Light to see how she handles the concept of "home" in vastly different landscapes.