Subtly political, deeply humane, a story about home, loss, and the cost of a country's advancement.
In award-winning Korean author Hwang's (Princess Bari, 2019, etc.) latest novel, a successful architect from a poor family reconnects with his first love many decades later.
As the title suggests, Park Minwoo has reached his twilight years. Friends and colleagues are beginning to die. "No one should ever forget their roots," one tells him gravely, but Minwoo feels embarrassed by the thought. He grew up in a Seoul slum called Moon Hollow in "a shabby house with wooden boards instead of glass in the windows," his parents eking out a living selling fishcakes. Determined to escape, he studied hard, stayed in school, and did well on his university exams. The only other high school student in Moon Hollow was the beautiful and sought-after Cha Soona, who secretly loved him. For decades Minwoo has repressed Soona's significance to him; he married well, studied abroad, and pursued a career that helped modernize Korea. But when he receives Soona's memoir in an email, his wife has moved to the U.S. to be near their daughter, and his company is under scrutiny due to corruption scandals. Soona remembers Moon Hollow with cleareyed affection in spite of what she endured there; her account dredges up their shared past, forcing him to reconsider his achievements and reckon for the first time with what he lost. The chapters alternate between Minwoo's point of view and that of a young, struggling playwright whose connection to the story emerges only gradually. Having been imprisoned for political reasons, Hwang has a restrained, delicate touch, alive to the nuances of memory, the slipperiness of the past, and the difficult choices life forces us to make. Minwoo's reexamination of his past serves as a reminder of the communities destroyed in the search for a better, more modern Korea, the lives disrupted and displaced, and the people left behind.
Subtly political, deeply humane, a story about home, loss, and the cost of a country's advancement.Pub Date: July 16, 2019
ISBN: 978-1-947534-66-7
Page Count: 192
Publisher: Scribe
Review Posted Online: April 27, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 2019
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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