This debut novel from Canadian / Korean author Ham, is strong on visual imagery. Narrated by University student Yewon, the opening paragraphs concern her mother washing their ancestors’ bones in the family bathtub.

These images, which Ham describes periodically, along with certain motifs of gothic and horror fiction, give the novel something of a false sense of identity. Rather, the theme is one of generational trauma, and of anxiety about what lies ahead.

Yewon lives with her mother in a small town in rural South Korea, studies at the local University, though is considering moving to Seoul, or even Sydney to continue her degree. Her friends have moved away, as has her older sister, who is married. He younger brother has just been conscripted to the army and is stationed on the border with the north. His safety is a constant cause for worry.

Concern only grows when a woman, Mrs Han, a refugee from North Korea, pays Yewon to take her to the prison where her brother resides, whom Ms. Han hasn’t seen for decades.
Yewon dreams frequently of a mysterious hotel where the front desk has piles of abandoned notes, a decrepit restaurant where diners stare at empty plates while dust settles, and a swimming pool, still with swimmers, but overtaken by thick green algae.

It’s a fascinating novel, but the two strands of Yewon’s life, the dream and reality, don’t quite connect. I could pick it for a debut novel, but there is enough here to indicate that Ham will be a writer to watch. It would have been easy to root the story in reality, but in experimenting with aspects of horror she has produced something special.

Its theme is firmly embedded in war; it may end, but the legacy of fear lives on.

My GoodReads score 3 / 5

Leave a comment

supera superiora sequi

SafeReturnDoubtful is my alias.


Shap, Cumbria circa 2016 – Tia, Roja and Mac behind

I was so much older then…

Dartmoor 2019


Quote of the Week

Alice asked the Cheshire Cat, who was sitting in a tree, ‘What road do I take?’ The cat asked, ‘Where do you want to go?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered. ‘Then,’ said the cat, ‘it really doesn’t matter, does it?’


Lewis Carroll