Drowning in perfection
As a former pro-athlete, I was immediately intrigued by Chlorine. I’ve read plenty of books about sports, but very few that capture the intensity, the obsession, and the dark undercurrent that comes with dedicating your entire identity to winning. Jade Song doesn’t romanticize athletic ambition, she dissects it. From the first page, I could feel that familiar pull: the drive to be the best, the self-destructive behaviors we justify as “discipline,” the sacrifices we make without even realizing how much of ourselves we’re giving up. It’s not just about swimming here - it’s about addiction, perfectionism, and the terrifying beauty of wanting something so badly that it consumes you. What struck me most was how honest this book feels. It’s messy, it’s uncomfortable, and it doesn’t try to clean up its own chaos. Song’s writing has this lyrical, almost feverish quality that makes you feel like you’re drowning right alongside the main character, pulled deeper with every page. The way she blends coming-of-age elements with body horror and surreal transformation is unsettling in the best possible way. It’s not just physical metamorphosis, but emotional and psychological, too. And to be clear, this isn’t a heartwarming sports story or a gentle tale of personal growth. It deals with some heavy, triggering topics: harassment, eating disorders, self-harm, and body horror, among others. But I appreciated that rawness. It doesn’t sensationalize those experiences; it forces you to confront them, to sit with the discomfort and reflect on how often we glorify pain in the name of achievement. Chlorine is a haunting, beautiful, and deeply unsettling read. It reminded me why stories about ambition can be just as terrifying as they are inspiring. For anyone who’s ever lost themselves in the pursuit of perfection, this book will hit close to home - maybe too close. But it’s also a reminder that there’s power in facing that darkness head-on.
