EXHIBIT

An artist at a crossroads in her career and personal life develops a relationship with a ballet dancer.

Jin Han is a photographer on the edge of 30. She’s had acclaim in the past with a series about religious pilgrims, but she’s afraid the “image has left”—she hasn’t produced any work worth keeping in a long time. She’s under a different kind of pressure from her husband, Philip, who, despite agreeing early in their relationship not to have children, seems to have changed his mind. In Jin’s liminal state, she can’t help but ponder the story passed down through her family about a curse on them originated by a long-ago kisaeng—a girl sold into courtesanship. (The profane kisaeng cuts into the narrative from time to time to tell her own story.) The curse foretells that Jin will steer her life into ruins; it’s just as she’s pondering how this could unfold that she meets Lidija Jung. Korean like Jin, Lidija gave herself that name as a child when she devoted her life to ballet. Immediately, the women are drawn to each other; through Lidija, Jin will learn about freedom from shame and expectation—and the consequences, both elating and frightening, of that same freedom. As ever, Kwon’s style may divide readers. In a book all about image and presentation, the baroque sentences make conceptual sense. But at the level of plot, the writing is often clipped and elliptical, withholding a great deal when it comes to action. Like overexposed photographs, this strategy is both luminescent and obfuscating: It can be hard to see to the heart of the matter. Nevertheless, Kwon’s novel is a muscular and intelligent examination of the layers of Jin’s identity.

A bold, tough novel that invites the viewer’s gaze and stares defiantly back.