What do you think?
Rate this book
The White Book
From the winner of the Man Booker International Prize for The Vegetarian
Writing while on a residency in Warsaw, a city palpably scarred by the violence of the past, the narrator finds herself haunted by the story of her older sister, who died a mere two hours after birth. A fragmented exploration of white things - the swaddling bands that were also her shroud, the breast milk she did not live to drink, the blank page on which the narrator herself attempts to reconstruct the story - unfolds in a powerfully poetic distillation.
As she walks the unfamiliar, snow-streaked streets, lined by buildings formerly obliterated in the Second World War, their identities blur and overlap as the narrator wonders, 'Can I give this life to you?'. The White Book is a book like no other. It is a meditation on a colour, on the tenacity and fragility of the human spirit, and our attempts to graft new life from the ashes of destruction.
This is both the most autobiographical and the most experimental book to date from South Korean master Han Kang.
Writing while on a residency in Warsaw, a city palpably scarred by the violence of the past, the narrator finds herself haunted by the story of her older sister, who died a mere two hours after birth. A fragmented exploration of white things - the swaddling bands that were also her shroud, the breast milk she did not live to drink, the blank page on which the narrator herself attempts to reconstruct the story - unfolds in a powerfully poetic distillation.
As she walks the unfamiliar, snow-streaked streets, lined by buildings formerly obliterated in the Second World War, their identities blur and overlap as the narrator wonders, 'Can I give this life to you?'. The White Book is a book like no other. It is a meditation on a colour, on the tenacity and fragility of the human spirit, and our attempts to graft new life from the ashes of destruction.
This is both the most autobiographical and the most experimental book to date from South Korean master Han Kang.
161 pages, Paperback
First published May 25, 2016
1604 people are currently reading
62993 people want to read
About the author
Han Kang
59听books9,744听followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the 欧宝娱乐 database.
靻岇劋臧赌 顷滉皶
Han Kang was born in 1970 in South Korea. She is the author of The Vegetarian, winner of the International Booker Prize, as well as Human Acts, The White Book, Greek Lessons, and We Do Not Part. In 2024, she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature 鈥渇or her intense poetic prose that confronts historical traumas and exposes the fragility of human life.鈥�
靻岇劋臧赌 顷滉皶
Han Kang was born in 1970 in South Korea. She is the author of The Vegetarian, winner of the International Booker Prize, as well as Human Acts, The White Book, Greek Lessons, and We Do Not Part. In 2024, she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature 鈥渇or her intense poetic prose that confronts historical traumas and exposes the fragility of human life.鈥�
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,352 reviews
November 17, 2020
Music is often associated with memory. I often hear a song and I鈥檓 taken back to a time, to a place, to a person, to an experience that I never will be able to regain: to a moment that song embodies that will forever be lost in the endless river of life. For Han Kang the colour white has a similar effect; it smashes open the floodgates to her mind and drops torrents of memory over the body of her writing.
"Why do old memories constantly drift to the surface?"
Because they never leave us. Because they never stop defining who we are and shaping our paths. Han Kang is haunted by her past, by her memories and by her dreams of the dead. There is a certain sense of guilt, of sorrow, that permeates her own life, a life that exists when another did not. This hangs over the writing, and the author鈥檚 conscience, forever digging outwards from the back of her mind: it鈥檚 a blazing reminder, one she endures with every step.
鈥淭his life only needed one of us to live it. If you had lived beyond those first few hours, I would not be living now. My life means yours is impossible. Only in the gap between darkness and light, only in that blue-tinged breach, do we manage to make out each other鈥檚 faces."
Such a thing questions the very nature of writing itself. What鈥檚 it for? Is it to entertain? Is it to tell a story? Is it to communicate a thought, a dream, an idea, or can it have another purpose?
It can be cleansing; it can be cathartic and it can even be a means of finding oneself. By exploring such a simple idea as a colour, a colour that embodies much to the writer, it allows her to explore the dark recesses of her mind and come to terms with emotions and experiences that have hung over her for a lifetime.
The White Book is a powerful evocation of human spirit, of human pain and suffering, but it鈥檚 also a book about learning to live with our daemons and our darkest experiences; it鈥檚 a book about life, and it鈥檚 also a book about death: it鈥檚 a book about the small amount of stark whiteness that separates the two.
___________________________________
You can connect with me on social media via .
__________________________________
"Why do old memories constantly drift to the surface?"
Because they never leave us. Because they never stop defining who we are and shaping our paths. Han Kang is haunted by her past, by her memories and by her dreams of the dead. There is a certain sense of guilt, of sorrow, that permeates her own life, a life that exists when another did not. This hangs over the writing, and the author鈥檚 conscience, forever digging outwards from the back of her mind: it鈥檚 a blazing reminder, one she endures with every step.
鈥淭his life only needed one of us to live it. If you had lived beyond those first few hours, I would not be living now. My life means yours is impossible. Only in the gap between darkness and light, only in that blue-tinged breach, do we manage to make out each other鈥檚 faces."
Such a thing questions the very nature of writing itself. What鈥檚 it for? Is it to entertain? Is it to tell a story? Is it to communicate a thought, a dream, an idea, or can it have another purpose?
It can be cleansing; it can be cathartic and it can even be a means of finding oneself. By exploring such a simple idea as a colour, a colour that embodies much to the writer, it allows her to explore the dark recesses of her mind and come to terms with emotions and experiences that have hung over her for a lifetime.
The White Book is a powerful evocation of human spirit, of human pain and suffering, but it鈥檚 also a book about learning to live with our daemons and our darkest experiences; it鈥檚 a book about life, and it鈥檚 also a book about death: it鈥檚 a book about the small amount of stark whiteness that separates the two.
___________________________________
You can connect with me on social media via .
__________________________________
January 14, 2022
I read this book because I recently enjoyed this author鈥檚 novel The Vegetarian. The White Book is not a novel; it鈥檚 a collection of mostly one-page mini-essays, almost meditations, on things that are white.
The focus is on loneliness, loss and mortality. Several are about the whiteness of pain (the author suffers from migraines).
Amazing how many things that lend themselves to symbolism are white when you think of it. So we have pieces on baby gowns, rice, fog, breast milk, salt, sugar, pills, hair, the Milky Way, bones, ashes, and so on.
There鈥檚 also a lot about winter: snow, snowflakes, frost, sleet. The narrator is visiting Warsaw, but her own country of Korea has harsh winters and she also visits the Artic to see the midnight sun. So there鈥檚 a lot on winter whiteness: snow, snowflakes, ice, sleet, frost.
A couple of examples of good writing:
鈥淎t times my body feels like a prison, a solid, shifting island threading through the crowd. A sealed chamber carrying all the memories of the life I have lived and the mother tongue from which they are inseparable. The more stubborn the isolation, the more vivid these unlooked-for fragments, the more oppressive their weight. So that is seems the place I flee to is not so much a city on the other side of the world as further into my own interior.鈥�
In the chapter Frost:
鈥淭rees shiver off their leaves, incrementally lightening their burden. Solid objects like stones or buildings appear subtly more dense. Seen from behind, men and women bundled up in heavy coats are saturated with a mute presentiment, that of people beginning to endure.鈥�
The author occasionally gives us poetry:
鈥淏ecause at some point you will inevitably cast me aside.
When I am at my weakest, when I am most in need of help,
You will turn your back on me, cold and irrevocable.
And that is something perfectly clear to me.
And I cannot now return to the time before that knowledge.鈥�
I enjoyed the book. Reading it was like meditating.
[Edited 1/14/22]
The author (b. 1970) has written a half-dozen novels of which three have been translated into English. Her book, The Vegetarian, won the 2016 Man Booker prize for translations. This book reviewed here, The White Book, was shortlisted for the 2018 Man Booker prize.
Top photo from marketplace.canva.com
Photo of Warsaw from gettyimages.com
Snow at Argenteuil by Claude Monet, 1875 on Wikipedia
The author from lithub.com
The focus is on loneliness, loss and mortality. Several are about the whiteness of pain (the author suffers from migraines).
Amazing how many things that lend themselves to symbolism are white when you think of it. So we have pieces on baby gowns, rice, fog, breast milk, salt, sugar, pills, hair, the Milky Way, bones, ashes, and so on.
There鈥檚 also a lot about winter: snow, snowflakes, frost, sleet. The narrator is visiting Warsaw, but her own country of Korea has harsh winters and she also visits the Artic to see the midnight sun. So there鈥檚 a lot on winter whiteness: snow, snowflakes, ice, sleet, frost.
A couple of examples of good writing:
鈥淎t times my body feels like a prison, a solid, shifting island threading through the crowd. A sealed chamber carrying all the memories of the life I have lived and the mother tongue from which they are inseparable. The more stubborn the isolation, the more vivid these unlooked-for fragments, the more oppressive their weight. So that is seems the place I flee to is not so much a city on the other side of the world as further into my own interior.鈥�
In the chapter Frost:
鈥淭rees shiver off their leaves, incrementally lightening their burden. Solid objects like stones or buildings appear subtly more dense. Seen from behind, men and women bundled up in heavy coats are saturated with a mute presentiment, that of people beginning to endure.鈥�
The author occasionally gives us poetry:
鈥淏ecause at some point you will inevitably cast me aside.
When I am at my weakest, when I am most in need of help,
You will turn your back on me, cold and irrevocable.
And that is something perfectly clear to me.
And I cannot now return to the time before that knowledge.鈥�
I enjoyed the book. Reading it was like meditating.
[Edited 1/14/22]
The author (b. 1970) has written a half-dozen novels of which three have been translated into English. Her book, The Vegetarian, won the 2016 Man Booker prize for translations. This book reviewed here, The White Book, was shortlisted for the 2018 Man Booker prize.
Top photo from marketplace.canva.com
Photo of Warsaw from gettyimages.com
Snow at Argenteuil by Claude Monet, 1875 on Wikipedia
The author from lithub.com
July 16, 2022
i am almost speechless.
which, if you have the misfortune of having encountered me before, you know happens precisely never.
this book is so beautifully written, so emotive, and so brilliant. i initially gave it 5 stars, and i would have kept it there, except i have since read bluets and found it a slightly more satisfying (for me) version of this.
even still, it has to be 4.5.
han kang hive stays winning.
bottom line: wow wow wow.
------------
pre-review
holy f*cking moley.
review to come / 4.5 stars
------------
currently-reading updates
i have loyalty to two things in life: brown butter chocolate chip cookies, and han kang
------------
reading books by asian authors for aapi month!
book 1: kim jiyoung, born 1982
book 2: siren queen
book 3: the heart principle
book 4: n.p.
book 5: the hole
book 6: set on you
book 7: disorientation
book 8: parade
book 9: if i had your face
book 10: joan is okay
book 11: strange weather in tokyo
book 12: sarong party girls
book 13: the wind-up bird chronicle
book 14: portrait of a thief
book 15: sophie go's lonely hearts club
book 16: chemistry
book 17: heaven
book 18: the atlas six
book 19: the remains of the day
book 20: is everyone hanging out without me? and other concerns
book 21: why not me?
book 22: when the tiger came down the mountain
book 23: the lies we tell
book 24: to paradise
book 25: pachinko
book 26: you are eating an orange. you are naked.
book 27: cursed bunny
book 28: almond
book 29: a tiny upward shove
book 30: ms ice sandwich
book 31: the woman in the library
book 32: nothing like i imagined
book 33: night sky with exit wounds
book 34: all the lovers in the night
book 35: the white book
which, if you have the misfortune of having encountered me before, you know happens precisely never.
this book is so beautifully written, so emotive, and so brilliant. i initially gave it 5 stars, and i would have kept it there, except i have since read bluets and found it a slightly more satisfying (for me) version of this.
even still, it has to be 4.5.
han kang hive stays winning.
bottom line: wow wow wow.
------------
pre-review
holy f*cking moley.
review to come / 4.5 stars
------------
currently-reading updates
i have loyalty to two things in life: brown butter chocolate chip cookies, and han kang
------------
reading books by asian authors for aapi month!
book 1: kim jiyoung, born 1982
book 2: siren queen
book 3: the heart principle
book 4: n.p.
book 5: the hole
book 6: set on you
book 7: disorientation
book 8: parade
book 9: if i had your face
book 10: joan is okay
book 11: strange weather in tokyo
book 12: sarong party girls
book 13: the wind-up bird chronicle
book 14: portrait of a thief
book 15: sophie go's lonely hearts club
book 16: chemistry
book 17: heaven
book 18: the atlas six
book 19: the remains of the day
book 20: is everyone hanging out without me? and other concerns
book 21: why not me?
book 22: when the tiger came down the mountain
book 23: the lies we tell
book 24: to paradise
book 25: pachinko
book 26: you are eating an orange. you are naked.
book 27: cursed bunny
book 28: almond
book 29: a tiny upward shove
book 30: ms ice sandwich
book 31: the woman in the library
book 32: nothing like i imagined
book 33: night sky with exit wounds
book 34: all the lovers in the night
book 35: the white book
February 11, 2018
Hmm ...
I don't know what to make of this book.
It's elegant, in a minimalist, subdued kind of way.
The font size is minuscule, there's a lot of white space and empty pages.
There are some nice passages, but also a whole lot of simple, simplistic, and "I don't get the point" kind of writing - writing for the sake of writing, or better said, I was reading it and not getting much out of it, despite wanting to.
I don't know - it's one of those "concept books".
You definitely have to be in the right kind of mood/frame of mind to appreciate it.
Or maybe not. It's not terrible. I wouldn't call it great either. It's probably one of those books you give more value to because of who the writer is. Probably.
I don't really know...
I don't know what to make of this book.
It's elegant, in a minimalist, subdued kind of way.
The font size is minuscule, there's a lot of white space and empty pages.
There are some nice passages, but also a whole lot of simple, simplistic, and "I don't get the point" kind of writing - writing for the sake of writing, or better said, I was reading it and not getting much out of it, despite wanting to.
I don't know - it's one of those "concept books".
You definitely have to be in the right kind of mood/frame of mind to appreciate it.
Or maybe not. It's not terrible. I wouldn't call it great either. It's probably one of those books you give more value to because of who the writer is. Probably.
I don't really know...
March 7, 2019
Such a difficult book to describe, difficult to review. A very unconventional narrative, but the writing is just gorgeous. Sad at times, a reflection on the sister that she never knew using the color white. Descriptions of the feelings these things invoke, politics, reminders of the past, present. Meaningful. Things that make one ponder, ask questions.
Lace curtain. "Is it because of some billowing whiteness within us, unsullied, inviolate, that our encounters with objects so pristine never fail to leave us moved?"
Breath cloud. "On cold mornings,chat first White cloud of escaping breath is proof that we are living. Proof of our bodies warmth."
Handkerchief. "A single handkerchief drifted down, slowest of all, finally to the ground. Like a bird with it's wings half furled. Like a soul tentatively sounding out a place it might alight."
Each item is followed by a descriptive meaning, all beautiful. One could literally find special quotes everywhere. A book to savour.
Lace curtain. "Is it because of some billowing whiteness within us, unsullied, inviolate, that our encounters with objects so pristine never fail to leave us moved?"
Breath cloud. "On cold mornings,chat first White cloud of escaping breath is proof that we are living. Proof of our bodies warmth."
Handkerchief. "A single handkerchief drifted down, slowest of all, finally to the ground. Like a bird with it's wings half furled. Like a soul tentatively sounding out a place it might alight."
Each item is followed by a descriptive meaning, all beautiful. One could literally find special quotes everywhere. A book to savour.
January 6, 2019
This is the 3rd book I鈥檝e read by Han Kang, a phenomenal contemporary Korean writer. 鈥楾he Vegetarian鈥�.....was fierce with haunting prose making it very hard to put down. It was gut-wrenching painful for me personally having survived the horrific years when our daughter was starving herself to death.....
Yet....I knew I was reading something brilliant. I became an instant fan of Han Kang.
The next book I read by this young exceptional author was 鈥楬uman Acts鈥�. It was brutal.... one that I continued to feel its depths long after I read it. Do you ever throw your hands up in the air - literary clueless in understanding why people are cruel, mean, cold hearted TO YOU?.......well....take it 1,000 steps more....
Why do we have such extreme violence in the world? Bloody frightening riots - killing hundreds of people at a time. Han wrote about how a single event changed a nation in South Korea.
Both books were devastatingly powerful - literary masterpieces about humanity.
鈥淭he White Book鈥� ....is equally a masterpiece- one that possibly took more courage to write than her first two books....given she is blood related to this story.
Note....鈥漈he White Book鈥� 鈥榙oes鈥� tell a story ....but is not written in the traditional way a novel is. Han reflects on her list of white things in short chapters, ( and inserts other relating topics), .... telling a story - from personal history - imagination, loss, grief, hope, human fragility, and love.
At the start Han says, 鈥淚n the spring, when I decided to write about white things, the first thing I did was make a list鈥�:
Swaddling bands
Newborn gown
Salt
Snow
Ice
Moon
Rice
Waves
Yulan
White Bird
鈥淟aughing whitely鈥�
Blank paper
White Dog
White Hair
Shroud
鈥淲ith each item I wrote down, a ripple of agitation ran through me. I felt that yes, I needed to write this book and the process of writing it would be transformative,
would itself transform into something like white ointment applied to a swelling, like gauze laid over a wound. Something I needed.
Han鈥檚 hopes in writing this book was to be 鈥渢ransformative鈥�. It鈥檚 a story that is part of her personal history.
It was definitely transformative to me. I looked at life and death in ways I haven鈥檛 before. Han opens a new pathway in which to examine life and death - past history and how it shapes our current and future selves.
Starting with the title of this book: 鈥淭he White Book鈥�.....
I began this book by sitting for 10 minutes -meditating - simply preparing myself to open a Han Kang book.
I wondered about the title....鈥漺hat might it mean to Han?鈥� ( I鈥檝e learned a little from the 3 books by Han: the titles of her books are ALWAYS POWERFUL with much more depth than first glance. So I wondered....鈥漺hy white things鈥�?
The word *WHITE* in western cultures symbolizes purity, elegance, peace, and cleanliness; brides traditionally wear white dresses at their weddings. But in China, Korea, and some Asian countries white represents 鈥榙eath鈥�, 鈥榤orning鈥�, and 鈥榖ad luck鈥�, and is traditionally worn at funerals.
I honestly will never EVER think of a newborn鈥檚 birth- their LIFE - if they should die soon after birth - the same again - EVER - AFTER READING THIS BOOK!
I know women who gave birth - and their baby died just hours after their birth. ALL I saw ( which wasn鈥檛 it enough?), was the immediate grief. I saw something else which Han presented. She shifted my thoughts about an early death. Still morning - still deep sadness from the sudden death...but what difference does this short life bring to others? I kept reading - and my mind expanded.
In Han鈥檚 book - we learn that a 22 year mother gives birth to a premature baby girl. She is dead in two hours. From there - as I continued reading - I began to look how this baby girl鈥檚 life - for two hours- spoke to Han [the inspiration for this book comes from true events in Han鈥檚 life] ....
at some point.....鈥漣t occurred to me that if I had been similarity visited myself, by my mothers first child who had lived just two hours, I would have been utterly oblivious.
Because the girl had never learn language at all. For an hour her eyes opened, held them in the direction of our mother鈥檚 face, but her optic nerves never had time to awaken and so that face had remained beyond reach. For her, there would have been only a voice, ( the mother鈥檚 voice of grief), >....鈥橠ON鈥橳 DIE. FOR GOD鈥橲 SAKE DON鈥橳 DIE鈥�. Unintelligible words, the only words she was ever to hear鈥�.
More memories.... The year after the mother lost her first child, she had another premature baby.
鈥淗ad those lives made it safely past the point of crisis, my own birth, which followed three years later, and that of my brother four years after, would not have come about鈥�.
鈥淭his life needed only one of us to live it. If you had lived beyond those first few hours, I would not be living now. My life means yours is impossible. Only in the gap between darkness and light, only in that blue-tinged breach, do we manage to make out each other鈥檚 faces鈥�.
The narrator was vitality aware of walking side by side with her sister. The sister she never knew - the sister she wished for - the sister who the narrator loved. They shared a profound unspoken language together.
YOUR EYES
鈥� I saw differently when I looked through your eyes. I walked differently when I walked with your body. I wanted to show you clean things. Before brutality, sadness, despair, pain, clean things were only for you, clean things above all. But I didn鈥檛 come off as I intended. Again and again I peered into your eyes, as though searching for form in a deep, black mirror鈥�.
There are other short stories - about a dog, a white butterfly, a white bird, wild ducks, university classmates who had studied literature together , ( their death), ....and their life - rejuvenation, revivification and White Flowers .....
鈥淭he brief March blooming of two yulans鈥�. Touching story.
Another achingly beautiful book, by Han Kang, ( A woman I wish was my own sister), with it鈥檚 鈥榥ew-ways-of-looking-at-life-and-death鈥�, .....will stay with me for a long time.
Grateful to be offered an advance copy by Crown Publishing, Netgalley, and Han Kang
Yet....I knew I was reading something brilliant. I became an instant fan of Han Kang.
The next book I read by this young exceptional author was 鈥楬uman Acts鈥�. It was brutal.... one that I continued to feel its depths long after I read it. Do you ever throw your hands up in the air - literary clueless in understanding why people are cruel, mean, cold hearted TO YOU?.......well....take it 1,000 steps more....
Why do we have such extreme violence in the world? Bloody frightening riots - killing hundreds of people at a time. Han wrote about how a single event changed a nation in South Korea.
Both books were devastatingly powerful - literary masterpieces about humanity.
鈥淭he White Book鈥� ....is equally a masterpiece- one that possibly took more courage to write than her first two books....given she is blood related to this story.
Note....鈥漈he White Book鈥� 鈥榙oes鈥� tell a story ....but is not written in the traditional way a novel is. Han reflects on her list of white things in short chapters, ( and inserts other relating topics), .... telling a story - from personal history - imagination, loss, grief, hope, human fragility, and love.
At the start Han says, 鈥淚n the spring, when I decided to write about white things, the first thing I did was make a list鈥�:
Swaddling bands
Newborn gown
Salt
Snow
Ice
Moon
Rice
Waves
Yulan
White Bird
鈥淟aughing whitely鈥�
Blank paper
White Dog
White Hair
Shroud
鈥淲ith each item I wrote down, a ripple of agitation ran through me. I felt that yes, I needed to write this book and the process of writing it would be transformative,
would itself transform into something like white ointment applied to a swelling, like gauze laid over a wound. Something I needed.
Han鈥檚 hopes in writing this book was to be 鈥渢ransformative鈥�. It鈥檚 a story that is part of her personal history.
It was definitely transformative to me. I looked at life and death in ways I haven鈥檛 before. Han opens a new pathway in which to examine life and death - past history and how it shapes our current and future selves.
Starting with the title of this book: 鈥淭he White Book鈥�.....
I began this book by sitting for 10 minutes -meditating - simply preparing myself to open a Han Kang book.
I wondered about the title....鈥漺hat might it mean to Han?鈥� ( I鈥檝e learned a little from the 3 books by Han: the titles of her books are ALWAYS POWERFUL with much more depth than first glance. So I wondered....鈥漺hy white things鈥�?
The word *WHITE* in western cultures symbolizes purity, elegance, peace, and cleanliness; brides traditionally wear white dresses at their weddings. But in China, Korea, and some Asian countries white represents 鈥榙eath鈥�, 鈥榤orning鈥�, and 鈥榖ad luck鈥�, and is traditionally worn at funerals.
I honestly will never EVER think of a newborn鈥檚 birth- their LIFE - if they should die soon after birth - the same again - EVER - AFTER READING THIS BOOK!
I know women who gave birth - and their baby died just hours after their birth. ALL I saw ( which wasn鈥檛 it enough?), was the immediate grief. I saw something else which Han presented. She shifted my thoughts about an early death. Still morning - still deep sadness from the sudden death...but what difference does this short life bring to others? I kept reading - and my mind expanded.
In Han鈥檚 book - we learn that a 22 year mother gives birth to a premature baby girl. She is dead in two hours. From there - as I continued reading - I began to look how this baby girl鈥檚 life - for two hours- spoke to Han [the inspiration for this book comes from true events in Han鈥檚 life] ....
at some point.....鈥漣t occurred to me that if I had been similarity visited myself, by my mothers first child who had lived just two hours, I would have been utterly oblivious.
Because the girl had never learn language at all. For an hour her eyes opened, held them in the direction of our mother鈥檚 face, but her optic nerves never had time to awaken and so that face had remained beyond reach. For her, there would have been only a voice, ( the mother鈥檚 voice of grief), >....鈥橠ON鈥橳 DIE. FOR GOD鈥橲 SAKE DON鈥橳 DIE鈥�. Unintelligible words, the only words she was ever to hear鈥�.
More memories.... The year after the mother lost her first child, she had another premature baby.
鈥淗ad those lives made it safely past the point of crisis, my own birth, which followed three years later, and that of my brother four years after, would not have come about鈥�.
鈥淭his life needed only one of us to live it. If you had lived beyond those first few hours, I would not be living now. My life means yours is impossible. Only in the gap between darkness and light, only in that blue-tinged breach, do we manage to make out each other鈥檚 faces鈥�.
The narrator was vitality aware of walking side by side with her sister. The sister she never knew - the sister she wished for - the sister who the narrator loved. They shared a profound unspoken language together.
YOUR EYES
鈥� I saw differently when I looked through your eyes. I walked differently when I walked with your body. I wanted to show you clean things. Before brutality, sadness, despair, pain, clean things were only for you, clean things above all. But I didn鈥檛 come off as I intended. Again and again I peered into your eyes, as though searching for form in a deep, black mirror鈥�.
There are other short stories - about a dog, a white butterfly, a white bird, wild ducks, university classmates who had studied literature together , ( their death), ....and their life - rejuvenation, revivification and White Flowers .....
鈥淭he brief March blooming of two yulans鈥�. Touching story.
Another achingly beautiful book, by Han Kang, ( A woman I wish was my own sister), with it鈥檚 鈥榥ew-ways-of-looking-at-life-and-death鈥�, .....will stay with me for a long time.
Grateful to be offered an advance copy by Crown Publishing, Netgalley, and Han Kang
August 12, 2021
Lo que me hace sentir Han Kang con sus historias, no me lo hace sentir ninguna otra autora o autor. Me tiene desde la primera hasta la 煤ltima p谩gina en un estado de agitaci贸n, con el coraz贸n en un pu帽o. Tiene la habilidad de hacerme sentir muchas cosas con muy pocas palabras. Trastorna totalmente mis emociones y es algo que no todos los autores consiguen en m铆. Y menos conseguirlo con todas sus obras (al menos con las que tenemos por ahora publicadas en espa帽ol). Y eso es lo que me ha pasado con Blanco.
Han Kang se va a servir de diferentes cosas blancas para contarnos la historia de una tragedia familiar, y cuales son sus sentimientos respecto a este dolor. Ante la pureza del blanco, la autora trata de consagrase con ese dolor, que la sigue atormentando. El libro fue escrito durante la estancia de Han Kang en una ciudad europea, que durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial fue completamente devastada y esta ciudad reconstruida, pr谩cticamente nueva, la inspira para hablar de un episodio tan doloroso del pasado.
Lo primero que destaca es la forma tan curiosa de narrar la historia. Parecieran peque帽os relatitos sin uni贸n, meras opiniones que le surgen al pensar sobre uno de estos elementos u objetos. Pero poco a poco vamos entrando en la historia, en el drama. Los cap铆tulos no duran m谩s de tres p谩ginas, en algunos casos solo una, pero a煤n as铆 consegu铆an mantenerme en silencio reflexionando al acabar cada uno de ellos. Es un libro cortito, pero con una gran profundidad.
Si lo comparo con las otras dos obras que tenemos en espa帽ol de la autora, "La vegetariana" o "Actos humanos" (que ya son dos de mis libros favoritos a d铆a de hoy), en este vemos mayor "sencillez" en cuanto a forma, y quiz谩s es mucho m谩s directo, aunque la autora sigue sirvi茅ndose del veh铆culo de la met谩fora para represesentar mensajes mucho m谩s profundos. Mensajes que continuamente te invitan a la reflexi贸n y que emocionan.
Y no quiero acabar mi opini贸n sin mencionar como escribe esta mujer. Su pluma es tan exquisita y profunda que consigue hacerte empatizar con cualquier realidad, aunque te pille al otro lado del mundo y no hayas v铆vido nada ni remotamente parecido. Sabe sintonizar muy bien con las emociones humanas y adem谩s lo hace siempre de manera original, siempre con su toque especial. En definitiva, Han Kang es mi autora favorita y solo espero y deseo que su editorial en espa帽ol no abandone la publicaci贸n de sus libros, porque aunque me lo hagan pasar mal, me dan vida y los necesito todos. 隆Vaya genia!
Han Kang se va a servir de diferentes cosas blancas para contarnos la historia de una tragedia familiar, y cuales son sus sentimientos respecto a este dolor. Ante la pureza del blanco, la autora trata de consagrase con ese dolor, que la sigue atormentando. El libro fue escrito durante la estancia de Han Kang en una ciudad europea, que durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial fue completamente devastada y esta ciudad reconstruida, pr谩cticamente nueva, la inspira para hablar de un episodio tan doloroso del pasado.
Lo primero que destaca es la forma tan curiosa de narrar la historia. Parecieran peque帽os relatitos sin uni贸n, meras opiniones que le surgen al pensar sobre uno de estos elementos u objetos. Pero poco a poco vamos entrando en la historia, en el drama. Los cap铆tulos no duran m谩s de tres p谩ginas, en algunos casos solo una, pero a煤n as铆 consegu铆an mantenerme en silencio reflexionando al acabar cada uno de ellos. Es un libro cortito, pero con una gran profundidad.
Si lo comparo con las otras dos obras que tenemos en espa帽ol de la autora, "La vegetariana" o "Actos humanos" (que ya son dos de mis libros favoritos a d铆a de hoy), en este vemos mayor "sencillez" en cuanto a forma, y quiz谩s es mucho m谩s directo, aunque la autora sigue sirvi茅ndose del veh铆culo de la met谩fora para represesentar mensajes mucho m谩s profundos. Mensajes que continuamente te invitan a la reflexi贸n y que emocionan.
Y no quiero acabar mi opini贸n sin mencionar como escribe esta mujer. Su pluma es tan exquisita y profunda que consigue hacerte empatizar con cualquier realidad, aunque te pille al otro lado del mundo y no hayas v铆vido nada ni remotamente parecido. Sabe sintonizar muy bien con las emociones humanas y adem谩s lo hace siempre de manera original, siempre con su toque especial. En definitiva, Han Kang es mi autora favorita y solo espero y deseo que su editorial en espa帽ol no abandone la publicaci贸n de sus libros, porque aunque me lo hagan pasar mal, me dan vida y los necesito todos. 隆Vaya genia!
May 22, 2018
I am quite unsure how to review this brilliant little book. I think it is something that needs to be experienced rather than read about. Told in a series of very short musings on different white things, Han Kang circles her own grief and Warsaw鈥檚 scarred history in a way that I found absolutely moving. I read the book mostly in one sitting (it is very short) and can only recommend doing that. This way the interplay between the blank spaces on the page, the photography, and the writing worked to create an immersive experience.
Han Kang鈥檚 writing is economical; there is not a spare word to be found. It gives the impression of deep concentration and thoughtfulness which worked extremely well for this book. Another way to describe her prose would be elegant and precise. I loved this. I find there to be something fascinating in being able to write about personal trauma in this way 鈥� rather than it reading clinical it made the book all the more profound for me.
I have recently read Maggie Nelson鈥檚 Bluets, which much in the same way deals with a colour (blue). But the two books are radically different besides their obvious similarities. Nelson鈥檚 writing is a lot more visceral and blunt, whereas Han Kang creates the illusion of distance while being obviously affected. I am very glad to have read of those these in short succession.
There is now only one book of hers left that has been translated to English and I haven鈥檛 read. I am a huge fan of Han Kang鈥檚 writing.
You can find this review and other thoughts on books on
Han Kang鈥檚 writing is economical; there is not a spare word to be found. It gives the impression of deep concentration and thoughtfulness which worked extremely well for this book. Another way to describe her prose would be elegant and precise. I loved this. I find there to be something fascinating in being able to write about personal trauma in this way 鈥� rather than it reading clinical it made the book all the more profound for me.
I have recently read Maggie Nelson鈥檚 Bluets, which much in the same way deals with a colour (blue). But the two books are radically different besides their obvious similarities. Nelson鈥檚 writing is a lot more visceral and blunt, whereas Han Kang creates the illusion of distance while being obviously affected. I am very glad to have read of those these in short succession.
There is now only one book of hers left that has been translated to English and I haven鈥檛 read. I am a huge fan of Han Kang鈥檚 writing.
You can find this review and other thoughts on books on
September 9, 2022
丕賱兀亘賷囟 賴賳丕 ..賱賷爻 丨賱賷亘賷丕賸 賳丕氐毓丕賸..亘賱 鬲鬲賲丕夭噩 亘賴 乇賲丕丿賷丞 丨夭賷賳丞 鬲鬲爻賱賱 廿賱賷賰 賮賷 賳毓賵賲丞 賵賴丿賵亍....
賰賱 卮賷亍 賴賳丕 賷賵丨賷 亘毓夭賱丞 賲鬲賮乇丿丞..禺賮丞 丕賱噩賲丕賱...賵賴賳 丕賱丨賷丕丞...
賵賲毓 匕賱賰 爻鬲丿乇賰 亘兀賳 孬賲丞 兀卮賷丕亍 氐睾賷乇丞 鬲丨鬲賮馗 亘賯丿乇鬲賴丕 毓賱賶 廿孬丕乇丞 丨賲丕爻鬲賰 賲賴賲丕 丕賳賯囟賶 丕賱夭賲賳 賵爻丨賯鬲賰 丕賱賲毓丕賳丕丞...
賰鬲兀賲賱 賯胤毓丞 爻賰乇 亘丨亘賷亘丕鬲賴丕 丕賱氐睾賷乇丞 丕賱賱丕賲毓丞 丨鬲賶 賵廿賳 賱賲 鬲賲丿 賷丿賰 賱鬲賳丕賵賱賴丕....
賰賱 卮賷亍 賴賳丕 賷賵丨賷 亘毓夭賱丞 賲鬲賮乇丿丞..禺賮丞 丕賱噩賲丕賱...賵賴賳 丕賱丨賷丕丞...
賵賲毓 匕賱賰 爻鬲丿乇賰 亘兀賳 孬賲丞 兀卮賷丕亍 氐睾賷乇丞 鬲丨鬲賮馗 亘賯丿乇鬲賴丕 毓賱賶 廿孬丕乇丞 丨賲丕爻鬲賰 賲賴賲丕 丕賳賯囟賶 丕賱夭賲賳 賵爻丨賯鬲賰 丕賱賲毓丕賳丕丞...
賰鬲兀賲賱 賯胤毓丞 爻賰乇 亘丨亘賷亘丕鬲賴丕 丕賱氐睾賷乇丞 丕賱賱丕賲毓丞 丨鬲賶 賵廿賳 賱賲 鬲賲丿 賷丿賰 賱鬲賳丕賵賱賴丕....
October 10, 2024
Now Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature 2024
English:
Korean literary superstar Han Kang writes about the sister she has never met: When her mother was 22, she was living in a remote area and gave birth to a premature little girl who died after a few hours. In "The White Book", the author employs the color white to meditate on the experience and what it meant for her parents and herself, the child that probably wouldn't have been born had her older sister survived.
The short book is structured in equally short chapters, all referring to different things, memories and ideas that refer to the color white, like snow, sugar cubes, milk etc. (I guess I don't have to explain the symbolism of the color - it's similar to Western associations, except that it's also the color of death). Han Kang imagines herself in her sister's shoes and, by narrating from the perspective of a writer who newly arrived in foreign Warsaw, shows her the white things she ponders when thinking about her. The language is lyrical and highly poetic, frequently the typography ventures into the territory of poetry, and there are also some rather enigmatic photographs.
But is all of that really that deep? The book is a patchwork of vignettes relating to white, and often, it's less than subtle while feeling overblown. Interestingly, this was nominated for the International Booker the same year as which I experienced as similarly overrated: A bunch of perceptions presented as profound insights. And as a dog person, I have to add regarding the chapter on the white dog: There is no such thing as a "fighting dog" (in the German translation: "Kampfhund"), this kind of behavior is the result of animal abuse.
So IMHO, this is Han Kang's weekest book out of those I could get a hold of in translation (, , ). Still, Han Kang is a great, interesting writer. If you'd like to learn more about the book, you can listen to our (in German).
English:
Korean literary superstar Han Kang writes about the sister she has never met: When her mother was 22, she was living in a remote area and gave birth to a premature little girl who died after a few hours. In "The White Book", the author employs the color white to meditate on the experience and what it meant for her parents and herself, the child that probably wouldn't have been born had her older sister survived.
The short book is structured in equally short chapters, all referring to different things, memories and ideas that refer to the color white, like snow, sugar cubes, milk etc. (I guess I don't have to explain the symbolism of the color - it's similar to Western associations, except that it's also the color of death). Han Kang imagines herself in her sister's shoes and, by narrating from the perspective of a writer who newly arrived in foreign Warsaw, shows her the white things she ponders when thinking about her. The language is lyrical and highly poetic, frequently the typography ventures into the territory of poetry, and there are also some rather enigmatic photographs.
But is all of that really that deep? The book is a patchwork of vignettes relating to white, and often, it's less than subtle while feeling overblown. Interestingly, this was nominated for the International Booker the same year as which I experienced as similarly overrated: A bunch of perceptions presented as profound insights. And as a dog person, I have to add regarding the chapter on the white dog: There is no such thing as a "fighting dog" (in the German translation: "Kampfhund"), this kind of behavior is the result of animal abuse.
So IMHO, this is Han Kang's weekest book out of those I could get a hold of in translation (, , ). Still, Han Kang is a great, interesting writer. If you'd like to learn more about the book, you can listen to our (in German).
October 10, 2024
From the deserving winner of the 2024 Nobel Prize in Literature for her intense poetic prose that confronts historical traumas and exposes the fragility of human life
"鞝滊皽 欤届毵�. 頃� 鞁滉皠殳� 雿� 頋橂煬 鞎勱赴電� 欤届棃雼�.
欤届潃 鞎勱赴毳� 臧€鞀挫棎 頀堦碃 氇 雸勳泴 攴� 氇胳澊 鞝愳爯 鞁鸽姌頃挫電� 瓯� 瓴帬雼�.
雿旍澊靸� 雸堧鞚� 頋愲ゴ歆€ 鞎婌晿雼�."
"For God's sake don't die. Around an hour later, the baby was dead.
They lay there on the kitchen floor, my mother on her side with the dead baby clutched to her chest, feeling the cold gradually enter into the flesh, sinking through to the bone.
No more crying. "
Chapter 5 of 顷滉皶 (Han Kang's) quite brilliant , as per Deborah Smith's English translation, concludes with the words:
Don鈥檛 die.
Just don鈥檛 die.
She explained at the time:
My mother's first child died, I was told, less than two hours into life.
I was told that she was a girl, with a face as white as a crescent-moon rice cake. Though she was very small, two months premature, her features were clearly defined. I can never forget, my mother told me, the moment she opened her two black eyes and turned them towards my face.
At the time, my parents were living in an isolated house, in the countryside near the primary school where my father taught. My mother's due date was still far off, so she was completely unprepared when, one morning, her waters broke. There was no one around. The village's sole telephone was in a tiny shop by the bus stop 鈥� twenty minutes away. My father wouldn't be back from work for another six hours.
It was early winter, the first frost of the year. My twenty-two-year-old mother crawled into the kitchen and boiled some water to sterilise a pair of scissors. Fumbling in her sewing box, she found some white cloth that would do for a newborn's gown.
The White Book is her beautifully poignant tribute to her 鞏鸽媹, her eonni, the elder sister she never had, the little girl with the face of a 雼枴 (crescent-moon rice cake), with her two black eyes, dressed in the white gown that was used to swaddle her and later, after her two brief hours of life, served as her funeral shroud.
'White as a moon-shaped rice cake' never made much sense until, at six, I was old enough to help out with making the rice cakes for Chuseok, forming the dough into small crescent moons. Before being steamed, those bright white shapes of rice dough are a thing so lovely they do not seem of this world. Only afterwards, dished up on a plate with a pine-needle garnish, did they become disappointingly matter-of-fact. Glistening with roasted sesame oil, their colour and texture transformed by heat and steam, they were tasty, of course, but utterly unlike their former loveliness.
So when my mother said 'white as rice cake', I realised, she meant a rice cake before it is steamed. A face as startlingly pristine as that. These thoughts made my chest grow tight, as though compressed with an iron weight.
顷滉皶 started the book on an extended visit to Warsaw (as an aside, she finished it in my home county of Norfolk) - although Warsaw is referred to only as 'the city' in the book - and another key inspiration was aerial footage she saw of the city, footage shot in Spring 1945 by an American plane:
The city seen from far above appeared as though mantled with snow. A grey-white sheet of snow or ice on which a light dusting of soot had settled, sullying it with dappled stains.
But as the plane gets lowe, the snow is revealed as the ashes of the burnt and almost entirely destroyed city. Visiting Warsaw some 70 years later, she realises:
The fortresses of the old quarter, the splending palace, the lakeside villa on the outskirts where royalty once summered - all are fakes. They are all new things, painstakingly reconstructed based on photographs, pictures, maps. Where a pillar or perhaps the lowest part of a wall happens to have survived, it has been incorporated into the new structure. The boundaries which separate old from new, the seams bearing witness to destruction, lie conspicuously exposed.
It was on that day, as I walked through the park, that she first came into my mind.
A person who has met the same fate as that city.
The White Book was published as 頋� in Korean, one of two Korean words for white, the other 頃橃杸. As the author explained in an interview:
[NB there are some similarities in concept to [book:Bluets|6798263] by Maggie Nelson, but while Nelson's work is more erudite - an essay based on blue - 顷滉皶's book is more poetic, moving, heartbreaking.]
The first section 雮� (I) tells, all in this same format of brief prose poems, how the author came to write the book, but in the longest and 2nd section, 攴鸽厐 (her), she writes as if her sister had lived and was in the city instead of her: As I have imagined her, she walks this city鈥檚 streets.. At a reading I attended, the author explained how she wanted to "lend her body" to the characters in Human Acts and to "lend her life" to her sister here.
And in the last section 氇摖 頋� (All Whiteness) the narration return to the 1st person, as she addresses her sister:
I wanted to show you clean things. Before brutality, sadness, despair, filth, pain, clean things that were only for you, clean things above all. But it didn't come off like that. Again and again I peered into your eyes, as though searching for form in a deep, black mirror.
And there is also a nod to the events described in Human Acts when, seeing wreaths laid in the city she is visiting, the narrator thought of certain instances in her own country鈥檚 history, the country that she had left to come here, of the dead that had been insufficiently mourned
As for the translation, there has been some controversy around Deborah Smith's work, on in particular. Frankly, some of the commentary has missed the point entirely, as what ultimately matters is the end result, the work that is presented to the English reader, and there only two things need be said:
1) The author works has a very close relationship with her translator, and is clearly delighted with the result.
(although see for her take in the Korean press - she clearly was a little disappointed with the factual mistakes in The Vegetarian - and much happier with the translations of the later books, plus see acknowledges herself that translation does mean the need to produce a different work)
2) As a reader, too, the resulting is truly wonderful.
Smith does have to wrestle with some untranslatable puns - e.g. the Korean riddle 臧滊姅 臧滌澑雿� 歆栰 鞎婋姅 臧滊姅? (What is a dog that's a dog but doesn't bark), that gives the English answer 'fog' (which at least rhymes), the Korean playing on Korean 鞎堦皽 (fog) / (鞎� 臧� not dog). And the Korean near homonyms for elder sister and front teeth (鞏鸽媹, 鞎勲灚雼�). If I had to make one small point, there is a passage written in the 3rd person where the narrator suddenly refers to 'our mother' - the Korean collective 鞖半Μ鞚� would be much more natural here (see ) but rather jars in English.
The English edition is also illustrated with some beautiful photos of performance art 顷滉皶 did around the time of the Korean book's launch, e.g. making a small baby dress from gauze, making for a truly beautiful, powerful and moving work of art.
Sources:
and a verbal discussion between the author and her English publisher, , which I was fortunate enough to attend.
"鞝滊皽 欤届毵�. 頃� 鞁滉皠殳� 雿� 頋橂煬 鞎勱赴電� 欤届棃雼�.
欤届潃 鞎勱赴毳� 臧€鞀挫棎 頀堦碃 氇 雸勳泴 攴� 氇胳澊 鞝愳爯 鞁鸽姌頃挫電� 瓯� 瓴帬雼�.
雿旍澊靸� 雸堧鞚� 頋愲ゴ歆€ 鞎婌晿雼�."
"For God's sake don't die. Around an hour later, the baby was dead.
They lay there on the kitchen floor, my mother on her side with the dead baby clutched to her chest, feeling the cold gradually enter into the flesh, sinking through to the bone.
No more crying. "
Chapter 5 of 顷滉皶 (Han Kang's) quite brilliant , as per Deborah Smith's English translation, concludes with the words:
Don鈥檛 die.
Just don鈥檛 die.
She explained at the time:
through writing the life of torture survivor Lim Seon-ju, I again experienced things which it seems that, as a woman like her, I did not want to have to bear. And so, at first this chapter had the tone of observing Seon-ju from more of a distance, one night in August 2002. I then realised that this was because I had been trying to distance myself from her, and so I rewrote the whole chapter from the beginning. I struggled to write precisely her feeling of being unable to press the button of the dictaphone. And I wrote the final sentence of the chapter, 鈥榩lease don鈥檛 die鈥�, in Seon-ju鈥檚 voice. Don鈥檛 die; that was something I wanted to say to her, to all the living, to us.Later 顷滉皶 realised that these words were also sub-consciously influenced by a story her mother had told her, one she retells here:
My mother's first child died, I was told, less than two hours into life.
I was told that she was a girl, with a face as white as a crescent-moon rice cake. Though she was very small, two months premature, her features were clearly defined. I can never forget, my mother told me, the moment she opened her two black eyes and turned them towards my face.
At the time, my parents were living in an isolated house, in the countryside near the primary school where my father taught. My mother's due date was still far off, so she was completely unprepared when, one morning, her waters broke. There was no one around. The village's sole telephone was in a tiny shop by the bus stop 鈥� twenty minutes away. My father wouldn't be back from work for another six hours.
It was early winter, the first frost of the year. My twenty-two-year-old mother crawled into the kitchen and boiled some water to sterilise a pair of scissors. Fumbling in her sewing box, she found some white cloth that would do for a newborn's gown.
The White Book is her beautifully poignant tribute to her 鞏鸽媹, her eonni, the elder sister she never had, the little girl with the face of a 雼枴 (crescent-moon rice cake), with her two black eyes, dressed in the white gown that was used to swaddle her and later, after her two brief hours of life, served as her funeral shroud.
'White as a moon-shaped rice cake' never made much sense until, at six, I was old enough to help out with making the rice cakes for Chuseok, forming the dough into small crescent moons. Before being steamed, those bright white shapes of rice dough are a thing so lovely they do not seem of this world. Only afterwards, dished up on a plate with a pine-needle garnish, did they become disappointingly matter-of-fact. Glistening with roasted sesame oil, their colour and texture transformed by heat and steam, they were tasty, of course, but utterly unlike their former loveliness.
So when my mother said 'white as rice cake', I realised, she meant a rice cake before it is steamed. A face as startlingly pristine as that. These thoughts made my chest grow tight, as though compressed with an iron weight.
顷滉皶 started the book on an extended visit to Warsaw (as an aside, she finished it in my home county of Norfolk) - although Warsaw is referred to only as 'the city' in the book - and another key inspiration was aerial footage she saw of the city, footage shot in Spring 1945 by an American plane:
The city seen from far above appeared as though mantled with snow. A grey-white sheet of snow or ice on which a light dusting of soot had settled, sullying it with dappled stains.
But as the plane gets lowe, the snow is revealed as the ashes of the burnt and almost entirely destroyed city. Visiting Warsaw some 70 years later, she realises:
The fortresses of the old quarter, the splending palace, the lakeside villa on the outskirts where royalty once summered - all are fakes. They are all new things, painstakingly reconstructed based on photographs, pictures, maps. Where a pillar or perhaps the lowest part of a wall happens to have survived, it has been incorporated into the new structure. The boundaries which separate old from new, the seams bearing witness to destruction, lie conspicuously exposed.
It was on that day, as I walked through the park, that she first came into my mind.
A person who has met the same fate as that city.
The White Book was published as 頋� in Korean, one of two Korean words for white, the other 頃橃杸. As the author explained in an interview:
The Korean title of this book is the single-syllable hwin (頋�). If hayan (頃橃杸) indicates the white as an ordinary colour, in hwin there might be a certain sadness, the colour of fate. The white of this book鈥檚 title is a fundamental colour passing from a baby鈥檚 swaddling cloths to a shroud, through the white of salt and snow and frost and waves, the wings of a living butterfly and the wings of the same creature, grown transparent in death.The White Book is both a fictional novel and, in the author's words, "could be read as narrative poem in 65 fragments" each focused around something that is white - a newborn's gown, salt, snow, ice, blank paper, fog (that vast, soundless undulation between this world and the next, each cold water molecule formed of drenched black darkness) etc.
[NB there are some similarities in concept to [book:Bluets|6798263] by Maggie Nelson, but while Nelson's work is more erudite - an essay based on blue - 顷滉皶's book is more poetic, moving, heartbreaking.]
The first section 雮� (I) tells, all in this same format of brief prose poems, how the author came to write the book, but in the longest and 2nd section, 攴鸽厐 (her), she writes as if her sister had lived and was in the city instead of her: As I have imagined her, she walks this city鈥檚 streets.. At a reading I attended, the author explained how she wanted to "lend her body" to the characters in Human Acts and to "lend her life" to her sister here.
And in the last section 氇摖 頋� (All Whiteness) the narration return to the 1st person, as she addresses her sister:
I wanted to show you clean things. Before brutality, sadness, despair, filth, pain, clean things that were only for you, clean things above all. But it didn't come off like that. Again and again I peered into your eyes, as though searching for form in a deep, black mirror.
And there is also a nod to the events described in Human Acts when, seeing wreaths laid in the city she is visiting, the narrator thought of certain instances in her own country鈥檚 history, the country that she had left to come here, of the dead that had been insufficiently mourned
As for the translation, there has been some controversy around Deborah Smith's work, on in particular. Frankly, some of the commentary has missed the point entirely, as what ultimately matters is the end result, the work that is presented to the English reader, and there only two things need be said:
1) The author works has a very close relationship with her translator, and is clearly delighted with the result.
(although see for her take in the Korean press - she clearly was a little disappointed with the factual mistakes in The Vegetarian - and much happier with the translations of the later books, plus see acknowledges herself that translation does mean the need to produce a different work)
2) As a reader, too, the resulting is truly wonderful.
Smith does have to wrestle with some untranslatable puns - e.g. the Korean riddle 臧滊姅 臧滌澑雿� 歆栰 鞎婋姅 臧滊姅? (What is a dog that's a dog but doesn't bark), that gives the English answer 'fog' (which at least rhymes), the Korean playing on Korean 鞎堦皽 (fog) / (鞎� 臧� not dog). And the Korean near homonyms for elder sister and front teeth (鞏鸽媹, 鞎勲灚雼�). If I had to make one small point, there is a passage written in the 3rd person where the narrator suddenly refers to 'our mother' - the Korean collective 鞖半Μ鞚� would be much more natural here (see ) but rather jars in English.
The English edition is also illustrated with some beautiful photos of performance art 顷滉皶 did around the time of the Korean book's launch, e.g. making a small baby dress from gauze, making for a truly beautiful, powerful and moving work of art.
Sources:
and a verbal discussion between the author and her English publisher, , which I was fortunate enough to attend.
April 10, 2018
A short and intensely personal and poetic meditation but a very difficult one to encapsulate in a review.
The starting point is a simple list of white things but the book is haunted by many darker undertones. I am not sure how much I understood but it felt profoundly human, spare and elegant, every word charged.
This is my second book from the Man Booker International longlist (I had already read and bought this one before it was announced).
The starting point is a simple list of white things but the book is haunted by many darker undertones. I am not sure how much I understood but it felt profoundly human, spare and elegant, every word charged.
This is my second book from the Man Booker International longlist (I had already read and bought this one before it was announced).
October 11, 2024
2024 Nobel Laureate - a wonderful choice
Now (and not surprisingly) shortlisted for the 2018 Man Booker International Prize.
This book was started by Han Kang during a period living in Warsaw (not identified in this book as such) 鈥� a period which enabled her to reflect on a story she had known (and had been part of her identity) all her life: that her mother鈥檚 first child died .. less than two hours into life.
Walking Warsaw, after seeing a film of it obliterated in 1945 she realises that
And that further reminds her of her sister A person who has met the same fate as that city. Who had at one time died or been destroyed and the way in which her own life is somehow bound with the life her sister would have lived had she survived and is in some ways built on the broken pediment of the sister鈥檚 life 鈥� in the same ways Warsaw is built on the ruin of its former self.
This causes her embark on an journey of the imagination I think of her coming here instead of me. To this curiously familiar City whose death and life resemble her own.
That journey, this book, consists of 60+ titled but unnumbered short chapters 鈥� each a reflection on a white coloured object, including those in the list above which opens the book.
The book itself is beautifully presented 鈥� with (performance) artistic black and (mainly) white photos, and with acres of blanks pages and white space. These features serve to further enhance and place focus on the meditative quality of the prose poems which make up the text.
Overall a moving and beautiful book from a wonderful author, brilliantly and sensitively translated by Deborah Smith (winner with Han Kang of the 2017 Man Booker International Prize) and founder of Tilted Axis Press.
In the spring, when I decided to write about white things the first thing I did was to make a list.
Swaddling bands. Newborn gown. Salt. Snow. Ice. Moon. Rice. Waves. Yulan. White bird. 鈥淟aughing Whitely鈥�. Blank paper. White dog. White hair. Shroud.
With each item I wrote down, a ripple of agitation ran through me. I felt that yes, I needed to write this book, and that the process of writing it would be transformative, would itself transform, into something like white ointment applied to a swelling, like gauze laid over a wound 鈥︹€� I step recklessly into time I have not yet lived, into this book I have not yet written
Now (and not surprisingly) shortlisted for the 2018 Man Booker International Prize.
This book was started by Han Kang during a period living in Warsaw (not identified in this book as such) 鈥� a period which enabled her to reflect on a story she had known (and had been part of her identity) all her life: that her mother鈥檚 first child died .. less than two hours into life.
Walking Warsaw, after seeing a film of it obliterated in 1945 she realises that
In this City there is nothing that has existed for more than severnty years. The fortresses of the old quarter, the splending palace, the lakeside villa on the outskirts where royalty once summered - all are fakes. They are all new things, painstakingly reconstructed based on photographs, pictures, maps. Where a pillar or perhaps the lowest part of a wall happens to have survived, it has been incorporated into the new structure. The boundaries which separate old from new, the seams bearing witness to destruction, lie conspicuously exposed.
And that further reminds her of her sister A person who has met the same fate as that city. Who had at one time died or been destroyed and the way in which her own life is somehow bound with the life her sister would have lived had she survived and is in some ways built on the broken pediment of the sister鈥檚 life 鈥� in the same ways Warsaw is built on the ruin of its former self.
This causes her embark on an journey of the imagination I think of her coming here instead of me. To this curiously familiar City whose death and life resemble her own.
That journey, this book, consists of 60+ titled but unnumbered short chapters 鈥� each a reflection on a white coloured object, including those in the list above which opens the book.
The book itself is beautifully presented 鈥� with (performance) artistic black and (mainly) white photos, and with acres of blanks pages and white space. These features serve to further enhance and place focus on the meditative quality of the prose poems which make up the text.
Overall a moving and beautiful book from a wonderful author, brilliantly and sensitively translated by Deborah Smith (winner with Han Kang of the 2017 Man Booker International Prize) and founder of Tilted Axis Press.
November 19, 2020
兀賳賴賷鬲賴 丕賱亘丕乇丨丞貙 賵賱兀賵賾賱 賲乇賾丞 兀卮毓乇 兀賳賾 賱賵賳 "丕賱亘賷丕囟" 賷乇丕賮賯 兀睾賱亘 丕賱鬲賮丕氐賷賱 丕賱丨夭賷賳丞貙 賵兀賳丕 丕賱匕賷 賰丕賳 賷馗賳賾 兀賳賾 "丕賱兀爻賵丿" 賴賵 丕賱賲鬲賴賲 亘氐賮丞 丕賱丨夭賳.
賴丕賳 賰丕賳睾 賴賷 賲丐賱賮丞 乇賵丕賷丞 [ 丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞] 賵丕賱賰鬲丕亘 氐丕丿乇 丨丿賷孬丕賸 毓賳 丿丕乇 丕賱鬲賳賵賷乇 亘鬲乇噩賲丞 "賲丨賲丿 賳噩賷亘"
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 兀卮亘賴賻 賲丕 賷賰賵賳 亘爻賷乇丞 匕丕鬲賷丞 賱賱賵噩毓貙 亘丿賵賳 丨卮賵.
"賰賱 賱丨馗丞 賴賷 賯賮夭丞 廿賱賶 丕賱兀賲丕賲貙 賲賳 賮賵賯 噩乇賮賺 睾賷乇 賲乇卅賷賾 丨賷孬 鬲鬲噩丿丿 丨賵丕賮 丕賱夭賲賳 亘丕爻鬲賲乇丕乇貙 賳乇賮毓 兀賯丿丕賲賳丕 賲賳 毓賱賶 丕賱兀乇囟 丕賱氐賱亘丞 賱賱丨賷丕丞 丕賱鬲賷 毓卮賳丕賴丕 丨鬲賶 丕賱丌賳貙 賵賳兀禺匕 丕賱禺胤賵丞 丕賱鬲丕賱賷丞 丕賱賲丨賮賵賮丞 亘丕賱賲禺丕胤乇 賳丨賵 丕賱賲噩賴賵賱貙 賳丨賵 丕賱賮乇丕睾. 賱丕 賳賮毓賱 匕賱賰 賰賷 賳購孬亘鬲 丕賲鬲賱丕賰賳丕 賱賱卮噩丕毓丞 亘賱 賱兀賳賾賴 賱丕 賷賵噩丿 兀賲丕賲賳丕 胤乇賷賯 丌禺乇"
丕賱孬賱噩貙 丕賱乇賲賱 丕賱兀亘賷囟貙 匕乇賾丕鬲 丕賱賲賱丨貙 丕賱賯賲丕胤貙 丕賱丨賱賷亘 賲賳 孬丿賷 兀賲賾 孬賰賱賶貙 爻賮賵丨 丕賱噩亘丕賱 丕賱亘賷囟丕亍貙 賲丿賷賳丞 賲丿賲賾乇丞 亘丕賱賰丕賲賱 鬲馗賴乇 賱賱乇丕卅賷 賲賳 毓賱 兀賳賾賴丕 亘賷囟丕亍貙 賰賱亘賹 兀亘賷囟 賴夭賷賱.
賰賱 賴匕賴 丕賱賲賮乇丿丕鬲 爻鬲孬賷乇 賮賷賰 丕賱卮噩賳 賵丕賱亘乇賵丿.
丨賷賳 兀睾賱賯鬲購 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賮毓賱丕賸 卮毓乇鬲購 亘丕賱亘乇丿 賷鬲爻賱賱 廿賱賶 兀胤乇丕賮 兀氐丕亘毓賷.
賮賷 丌禺乇 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 丨丿賷孬賹 賯氐賷乇賹 賲毓 丕賱賲丐賱賮丞貙 鬲賯賵賱 賮賷賴: "賱賯丿 爻丕毓丿賳賷 丕賱兀爻賱賵亘 丕賱匕賷 丕鬲亘毓鬲賴 賮賷 丕賱賰鬲丕亘丞貙 賰丕賳 賲孬賱 胤賯爻 氐睾賷乇 兀賮毓賱賴 賰賱 賷賵賲貙 鬲胤賴賷乇賹 賱賱匕丕鬲 賲賳 賳賵毓 賲丕貙 賰賲丕 賱賵 兀賳賳賷 兀賯鬲乇亘 兀賰孬乇 賮兀賰孬乇貙 賷賵賲丕賸 亘毓丿 賷賵賲 兀孬賳丕亍 賰鬲丕亘鬲賴貙 賲賳 噩夭亍 賲毓賷賾賳 賮賷 丿丕禺賱賳丕貙 卮賷亍 賱丕 賷賲賰賳 鬲丿賲賷乇賴貙 卮賷亍 賱丕 賷賲賰賳 鬲卮賵賷賴賴".
賲賳 丕賱賱胤賷賮 兀賳賾賴丕 丨賷賳 爻購卅賱鬲賿: "賲賳賿 賲賳賻 丕賱賯丕賲丕鬲 丕賱兀丿亘賷丞 賲賷鬲丕賸 賰丕賳 兀賵 丨賷丕賸 鬲賵丿賾賷賳 賱賯丕亍賴責
兀噩丕亘鬲: 賱丕 兀乇賷丿 賲賯丕亘賱丞 丕賱賰鬲賾丕亘貙 賱賯丿 賯丕亘賱鬲賴賲 賮毓賱丕賸 賲賳 禺賱丕賱 兀毓賲丕賱賴賲貙 廿匕丕 賯乇兀鬲購 賰鬲亘賴賲貙 賵卮毓乇鬲購 亘卮賷亍 賲丕貙 賮賴匕丕 賱丕 賷購賯丿賾乇 亘孬賲賳貙 賷氐亘購賾 丕賱賰鬲賾丕亘 兀賮囟賱 賲丕 亘丿丕禺賱賴賲 賮賷 賰鬲亘賴賲貙 賱匕丕 賷賰賮賷賳賷 兀賳 兀賯乇兀 賱賴賲".
賴丕賳 賰丕賳睾 賴賷 賲丐賱賮丞 乇賵丕賷丞 [ 丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞] 賵丕賱賰鬲丕亘 氐丕丿乇 丨丿賷孬丕賸 毓賳 丿丕乇 丕賱鬲賳賵賷乇 亘鬲乇噩賲丞 "賲丨賲丿 賳噩賷亘"
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 兀卮亘賴賻 賲丕 賷賰賵賳 亘爻賷乇丞 匕丕鬲賷丞 賱賱賵噩毓貙 亘丿賵賳 丨卮賵.
"賰賱 賱丨馗丞 賴賷 賯賮夭丞 廿賱賶 丕賱兀賲丕賲貙 賲賳 賮賵賯 噩乇賮賺 睾賷乇 賲乇卅賷賾 丨賷孬 鬲鬲噩丿丿 丨賵丕賮 丕賱夭賲賳 亘丕爻鬲賲乇丕乇貙 賳乇賮毓 兀賯丿丕賲賳丕 賲賳 毓賱賶 丕賱兀乇囟 丕賱氐賱亘丞 賱賱丨賷丕丞 丕賱鬲賷 毓卮賳丕賴丕 丨鬲賶 丕賱丌賳貙 賵賳兀禺匕 丕賱禺胤賵丞 丕賱鬲丕賱賷丞 丕賱賲丨賮賵賮丞 亘丕賱賲禺丕胤乇 賳丨賵 丕賱賲噩賴賵賱貙 賳丨賵 丕賱賮乇丕睾. 賱丕 賳賮毓賱 匕賱賰 賰賷 賳購孬亘鬲 丕賲鬲賱丕賰賳丕 賱賱卮噩丕毓丞 亘賱 賱兀賳賾賴 賱丕 賷賵噩丿 兀賲丕賲賳丕 胤乇賷賯 丌禺乇"
丕賱孬賱噩貙 丕賱乇賲賱 丕賱兀亘賷囟貙 匕乇賾丕鬲 丕賱賲賱丨貙 丕賱賯賲丕胤貙 丕賱丨賱賷亘 賲賳 孬丿賷 兀賲賾 孬賰賱賶貙 爻賮賵丨 丕賱噩亘丕賱 丕賱亘賷囟丕亍貙 賲丿賷賳丞 賲丿賲賾乇丞 亘丕賱賰丕賲賱 鬲馗賴乇 賱賱乇丕卅賷 賲賳 毓賱 兀賳賾賴丕 亘賷囟丕亍貙 賰賱亘賹 兀亘賷囟 賴夭賷賱.
賰賱 賴匕賴 丕賱賲賮乇丿丕鬲 爻鬲孬賷乇 賮賷賰 丕賱卮噩賳 賵丕賱亘乇賵丿.
丨賷賳 兀睾賱賯鬲購 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賮毓賱丕賸 卮毓乇鬲購 亘丕賱亘乇丿 賷鬲爻賱賱 廿賱賶 兀胤乇丕賮 兀氐丕亘毓賷.
賮賷 丌禺乇 丕賱賰鬲丕亘 丨丿賷孬賹 賯氐賷乇賹 賲毓 丕賱賲丐賱賮丞貙 鬲賯賵賱 賮賷賴: "賱賯丿 爻丕毓丿賳賷 丕賱兀爻賱賵亘 丕賱匕賷 丕鬲亘毓鬲賴 賮賷 丕賱賰鬲丕亘丞貙 賰丕賳 賲孬賱 胤賯爻 氐睾賷乇 兀賮毓賱賴 賰賱 賷賵賲貙 鬲胤賴賷乇賹 賱賱匕丕鬲 賲賳 賳賵毓 賲丕貙 賰賲丕 賱賵 兀賳賳賷 兀賯鬲乇亘 兀賰孬乇 賮兀賰孬乇貙 賷賵賲丕賸 亘毓丿 賷賵賲 兀孬賳丕亍 賰鬲丕亘鬲賴貙 賲賳 噩夭亍 賲毓賷賾賳 賮賷 丿丕禺賱賳丕貙 卮賷亍 賱丕 賷賲賰賳 鬲丿賲賷乇賴貙 卮賷亍 賱丕 賷賲賰賳 鬲卮賵賷賴賴".
賲賳 丕賱賱胤賷賮 兀賳賾賴丕 丨賷賳 爻購卅賱鬲賿: "賲賳賿 賲賳賻 丕賱賯丕賲丕鬲 丕賱兀丿亘賷丞 賲賷鬲丕賸 賰丕賳 兀賵 丨賷丕賸 鬲賵丿賾賷賳 賱賯丕亍賴責
兀噩丕亘鬲: 賱丕 兀乇賷丿 賲賯丕亘賱丞 丕賱賰鬲賾丕亘貙 賱賯丿 賯丕亘賱鬲賴賲 賮毓賱丕賸 賲賳 禺賱丕賱 兀毓賲丕賱賴賲貙 廿匕丕 賯乇兀鬲購 賰鬲亘賴賲貙 賵卮毓乇鬲購 亘卮賷亍 賲丕貙 賮賴匕丕 賱丕 賷購賯丿賾乇 亘孬賲賳貙 賷氐亘購賾 丕賱賰鬲賾丕亘 兀賮囟賱 賲丕 亘丿丕禺賱賴賲 賮賷 賰鬲亘賴賲貙 賱匕丕 賷賰賮賷賳賷 兀賳 兀賯乇兀 賱賴賲".
June 17, 2022
鬲乇賳賷賲丞 賴丕丿卅丞 鬲購賱賵賳 丕賱丨夭賳 賵丕賱賮賯丿 亘丕賱賱賵賳 丕賱兀亘賷囟
January 27, 2023
丕賱賰賵乇賷丞 賴丕賳 賰丕賳睾 貙 賮賷 丌禺乇 丕氐丿丕乇 賱賴丕 貙 乇賰夭鬲 毓賱賶 丕賱賱賵賳 丕賱兀亘賷囟 亘賱賲毓丕賳賴 賵亘乇賷賯賴 貙 賰賵氐賮 賱卮毓賵乇 丿丕禺賱賷 亘丕賱賱丕賳賴丕卅賷賾丞 貙 噩毓賱鬲 賲賳 爻胤丨 丕賱賵乇賯 丕賱兀亘賷囟 賱賰鬲丕亘賴丕 賱賵丨丕賸 賱乇爻賲 賲卮丕毓乇賴丕 丕賱亘丕乇丿丞 賵丕賱丿丕賮卅丞 貙 丕賱賲購賮乇丨丞 賵丕賱丨夭賷賳丞 貙 賲胤毓賾賲丞 亘丕賱兀賱賲 丕賱賳賮爻賷 貙 鬲丨賰賷 爻賷乇鬲賴丕 亘賱爻丕賳 毓匕亘 貙 鬲乇孬賷賾 兀禺鬲賴丕 丕賱鬲賷 賵賱丿鬲 賯亘賱 兀賵丕賳賴丕 貙 賵鬲賵賮賷鬲 賮賷 睾囟賵賳 爻丕毓鬲賷賳.
听
賰丕賳鬲 鬲購禺丕胤亘 兀禺鬲賴丕 丕賱鬲賷 賱賵賱丌 賲賵鬲賴丕 賱賲丕 賰丕賳鬲 賴賷 賲賵噩賵丿丞 兀氐賱丕賸 貙 丨賷孬 賵囟丨鬲 匕賱賰 亘賯賵賱賴丕 " 賴匕賴 丕賱丨賷丕丞 賱丌 鬲丨鬲丕噩 廿賱丕 賵丕丨丿丞 賲賳丕 賮賯胤 賱賰賷 鬲毓賷卮賴丕 貙 賱賵 兀賳賰 毓卮鬲賽 兀賰孬乇 賲賳 鬲賱賰 丕賱爻丕毓鬲賷賳 貙 賱賲丕 賰賳鬲 丨賷賾丞 丕賱丌賳 ".
听
丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 賷賲孬賱賴丕 卮禺氐賷賾丞 賵丕丨丿丞 貙 賴賷 卮禺氐賷賾丞 賰丕鬲亘鬲賴丕 貙 賵賱丕賷賵噩丿 亘賴丕 兀亘胤丕賱 貙 賴賷 兀賯乇亘 丕賱賶 丨丿賷孬 丕賱賳賮爻 丕賱鬲賷 鬲購噩丕賴丿 賲賳 兀噩賱 丕賱賵氐賵賱 丕賱賶 丕賱賰賲丕賱 .
"賱賷爻 賴賳丕賰 亘賷丕囟 (賲賮賯賵丿) 卮丿賷丿丕賱亘賷丕囟 貙 賰匕丕賰乇丞 丕賱亘賷丕囟"
听
"乇睾賲 兀賳 丕賱兀亘丿賷賾丞 賮賷 丕賱丨賯賷賯丞 賵賴賲 貙 賷賵賲丕賸 賲丕 爻鬲鬲賱丕卮賶 丕賱兀乇囟貙 賷賵賲丕賸 賲丕 爻賷鬲賱丕卮賶 賰賱 卮賷亍 貙 賷賲賰賳賴丕 丕賱卮毓賵乇 亘賵囟賵丨 賱丌 賱亘爻 賮賷賴 貙 兀賳 丕賱丨賷丕丞 賮賷 賳賴丕賷丞 丕賱賲胤丕賮 貙 賱丌 卮賷亍 爻賵賶 亘囟毓 賱丨馗丕鬲 賯氐賷乇丞".
听
賰丕賳鬲 鬲購禺丕胤亘 兀禺鬲賴丕 丕賱鬲賷 賱賵賱丌 賲賵鬲賴丕 賱賲丕 賰丕賳鬲 賴賷 賲賵噩賵丿丞 兀氐賱丕賸 貙 丨賷孬 賵囟丨鬲 匕賱賰 亘賯賵賱賴丕 " 賴匕賴 丕賱丨賷丕丞 賱丌 鬲丨鬲丕噩 廿賱丕 賵丕丨丿丞 賲賳丕 賮賯胤 賱賰賷 鬲毓賷卮賴丕 貙 賱賵 兀賳賰 毓卮鬲賽 兀賰孬乇 賲賳 鬲賱賰 丕賱爻丕毓鬲賷賳 貙 賱賲丕 賰賳鬲 丨賷賾丞 丕賱丌賳 ".
听
丕賱乇賵丕賷丞 賷賲孬賱賴丕 卮禺氐賷賾丞 賵丕丨丿丞 貙 賴賷 卮禺氐賷賾丞 賰丕鬲亘鬲賴丕 貙 賵賱丕賷賵噩丿 亘賴丕 兀亘胤丕賱 貙 賴賷 兀賯乇亘 丕賱賶 丨丿賷孬 丕賱賳賮爻 丕賱鬲賷 鬲購噩丕賴丿 賲賳 兀噩賱 丕賱賵氐賵賱 丕賱賶 丕賱賰賲丕賱 .
"賱賷爻 賴賳丕賰 亘賷丕囟 (賲賮賯賵丿) 卮丿賷丿丕賱亘賷丕囟 貙 賰匕丕賰乇丞 丕賱亘賷丕囟"
听
"乇睾賲 兀賳 丕賱兀亘丿賷賾丞 賮賷 丕賱丨賯賷賯丞 賵賴賲 貙 賷賵賲丕賸 賲丕 爻鬲鬲賱丕卮賶 丕賱兀乇囟貙 賷賵賲丕賸 賲丕 爻賷鬲賱丕卮賶 賰賱 卮賷亍 貙 賷賲賰賳賴丕 丕賱卮毓賵乇 亘賵囟賵丨 賱丌 賱亘爻 賮賷賴 貙 兀賳 丕賱丨賷丕丞 賮賷 賳賴丕賷丞 丕賱賲胤丕賮 貙 賱丌 卮賷亍 爻賵賶 亘囟毓 賱丨馗丕鬲 賯氐賷乇丞".
December 18, 2024
賴丕賳 賰丕賳睾 丕賱賰丕鬲亘丞 丕賱賰賵乇賷丞 丕賱噩賳賵亘賷丞 丕賱賮丕卅夭丞 亘噩丕卅夭丞 賳賵亘賱 賱賱兀丿丕亘 賱賴匕丕 丕賱毓丕賲 賵 賯丿 噩丕亍 賮賷 亘丕賷賳 丕賱噩丕卅夭丞 廿賳賴丕 賲購賳丨鬲 賱賴丕 毓賳 賳孬乇賴丕 丕賱卮毓乇賶 丕賱賲賰孬賮 丕賱匕賶 賷賵丕噩賴 丕賱氐丿賲丕鬲 丕賱鬲丕乇賷禺賷丞 賵賷賰卮賮 賴卮丕卮丞 丕賱丨賷丕丞 丕賱廿賳爻丕賳賷丞...
賴丕賳睾 賰丕賳睾 賱賴丕 賲噩賲賵毓丕鬲 賯氐氐賷丞 賵乇賵丕賷丕鬲 賵丿賵丕賵賷賳 卮毓乇貙 賵鬲丨亘 丕賱睾賳丕亍 兀賷囟賸丕 賵賯丿 賳卮乇鬲 毓賱賶 丕賱賷賵鬲賷賵亘 鬲爻噩賷賱丕鬲 賱賴丕 賵賴賷 鬲睾賳賷 兀睾丕賳賷 賰賵乇賷丞 卮毓亘賷丞.
乇賵丕賷鬲賴丕 丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞 賮丕夭鬲 賮賷 鬲乇噩賲鬲賴丕 丕賱廿賳噩賱賷夭賷丞 亘噩丕卅夭丞 丕賱賲丕賳 亘賵賰乇 丕賱丿賵賱賷丞 賵賴賷 賲賳 丕賱乇賵丕賷丕鬲 丕賱賱賷 亘丨亘賴丕 賵 亘毓鬲亘乇賴丕 乇賵丕賷丞 賲賲賷夭丞 噩丿丕賸 賵賲禺鬲賱賮丞 毓賳 兀賷 丨丕噩丞 賯乇兀鬲賴丕 賯亘賱 賰丿丞...
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賴賳丕 毓亘丕乇丞 毓賳 鬲兀賲賱丕鬲 兀賵 禺賵丕胤乇 賰賱 賵丕丨丿丞 賱丕 鬲鬲毓丿賷 丕賱伲 氐賮丨丕鬲 賵 噩夭亍 賰亘賷乇 賲賳賴丕 亘鬲鬲賰賱賲 賮賷賴 丕賱賰丕鬲亘丞 毓賳 兀禺鬲賴丕 丕賱賰亘賷乇丞 丕賱鬲賷 賲丕鬲鬲 亘毓丿 爻丕毓鬲賷賳 賲賳 賵賱丕丿鬲賴丕 賵 賱賰賳 兀賴賱賴丕 賲賯丿乇賵卮 廿賳賴賲 賷賳爻賵賴丕 丕亘丿丕賸...
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賮賷賴 兀噩夭丕亍 賲賲賷夭丞 亘爻 賲毓馗賲賴 毓丕丿賷 兀賵賷 賵 賰卅賷亘 卮賵賷丞 ...
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 丕賱孬丕賱孬 丕賱匕賷 丕賯乇兀賴 賱賱賰丕鬲亘丞 亘毓丿 丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞 賵兀賮毓丕賱 亘卮乇賷丞 亘爻 兀賳丕 賲賳亘賴乇鬲卮 廿賱丕 亘丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞 賵 賲賯丿乇卮 丕賱氐乇丕丨丞 兀賯賵賱 賴賱 鬲爻鬲丨賯 丕賱噩丕卅夭丞 兀賲 賱丕..
賴丕賳睾 賰丕賳睾 賱賴丕 賲噩賲賵毓丕鬲 賯氐氐賷丞 賵乇賵丕賷丕鬲 賵丿賵丕賵賷賳 卮毓乇貙 賵鬲丨亘 丕賱睾賳丕亍 兀賷囟賸丕 賵賯丿 賳卮乇鬲 毓賱賶 丕賱賷賵鬲賷賵亘 鬲爻噩賷賱丕鬲 賱賴丕 賵賴賷 鬲睾賳賷 兀睾丕賳賷 賰賵乇賷丞 卮毓亘賷丞.
乇賵丕賷鬲賴丕 丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞 賮丕夭鬲 賮賷 鬲乇噩賲鬲賴丕 丕賱廿賳噩賱賷夭賷丞 亘噩丕卅夭丞 丕賱賲丕賳 亘賵賰乇 丕賱丿賵賱賷丞 賵賴賷 賲賳 丕賱乇賵丕賷丕鬲 丕賱賱賷 亘丨亘賴丕 賵 亘毓鬲亘乇賴丕 乇賵丕賷丞 賲賲賷夭丞 噩丿丕賸 賵賲禺鬲賱賮丞 毓賳 兀賷 丨丕噩丞 賯乇兀鬲賴丕 賯亘賱 賰丿丞...
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賴賳丕 毓亘丕乇丞 毓賳 鬲兀賲賱丕鬲 兀賵 禺賵丕胤乇 賰賱 賵丕丨丿丞 賱丕 鬲鬲毓丿賷 丕賱伲 氐賮丨丕鬲 賵 噩夭亍 賰亘賷乇 賲賳賴丕 亘鬲鬲賰賱賲 賮賷賴 丕賱賰丕鬲亘丞 毓賳 兀禺鬲賴丕 丕賱賰亘賷乇丞 丕賱鬲賷 賲丕鬲鬲 亘毓丿 爻丕毓鬲賷賳 賲賳 賵賱丕丿鬲賴丕 賵 賱賰賳 兀賴賱賴丕 賲賯丿乇賵卮 廿賳賴賲 賷賳爻賵賴丕 丕亘丿丕賸...
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 賮賷賴 兀噩夭丕亍 賲賲賷夭丞 亘爻 賲毓馗賲賴 毓丕丿賷 兀賵賷 賵 賰卅賷亘 卮賵賷丞 ...
丕賱賰鬲丕亘 丕賱孬丕賱孬 丕賱匕賷 丕賯乇兀賴 賱賱賰丕鬲亘丞 亘毓丿 丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞 賵兀賮毓丕賱 亘卮乇賷丞 亘爻 兀賳丕 賲賳亘賴乇鬲卮 廿賱丕 亘丕賱賳亘丕鬲賷丞 賵 賲賯丿乇卮 丕賱氐乇丕丨丞 兀賯賵賱 賴賱 鬲爻鬲丨賯 丕賱噩丕卅夭丞 兀賲 賱丕..
November 19, 2024
But can we really call it white? That vast, soundless undulation between this world and the next
Han Kang is the kind of author that happens once in a lifetime. There is something mystical about her work, that even when dealing with ordinary situations, it turns into something far deeper. Most times when reading, it is easy to decipher what the author is trying to convey, the characters are used as bridges to cross to get to a certain conclusion, and the reader can tell what are the author鈥檚 views, morals and beliefs. It is a whole different ordeal with Kang. To understand her work, one must actively engage with it. She is an expert in camouflaging herself threading little webs of consciousness that will make one not only a character of the story, but a central part of it.
When gazing at an abstract painting or listening to a symphony, it is set upon the consumer of the art piece to give their own interpretation, and by doing so, entering an introspective journey that will reveal far more about themselves than the artist. Han Kang is like that, turning her stories into instruments to have a conversation with our selves.
A central theme in her novels is the exertion of violence on non-violent recipients, and this one is not the exception. In this case it is manifested through the color white and the kind of things that usually go unnoticed. We tend to think of white as a synonym for pure, pristine, clear, and even bright, and that characteristic is the most important thing an object can possess. Once it loses this, whether by fading with the passage of time, or getting tainted, it loses its value.
metal door had once been white, but that brightness had faded over time
old white sweater
white glow of stone ruins
billowing whiteness within us
I would like to propose something, for anyone who reads this review, and wants to do it. I would like you to look around and find something white that is attached to a memory you hold dear in your heart, that no matter if the color fades or gets less pure it will still be valuable to you, and if you would like to share it with me, I鈥檒l appreciate it.
For me it's a little white box my best friend gifted me on my birthday a few years ago, and it has some of my favorite song lyrics, and book quotes. While we were having fun we accidentally spilled some sauce on it and the stain stayed. I used to be sad about it, my beautiful white box got tarnished forever, but looking at it now, it reminds me of our friendship, and how beautiful that day was for me. It doesn't matter if it isn't white anymore. The meaning is still pure.
_________________________________
Read December 17th,2021
In hindsight I shouldn't have read this on my birthday. Han Kang owns my feelings forever.
Han Kang is the kind of author that happens once in a lifetime. There is something mystical about her work, that even when dealing with ordinary situations, it turns into something far deeper. Most times when reading, it is easy to decipher what the author is trying to convey, the characters are used as bridges to cross to get to a certain conclusion, and the reader can tell what are the author鈥檚 views, morals and beliefs. It is a whole different ordeal with Kang. To understand her work, one must actively engage with it. She is an expert in camouflaging herself threading little webs of consciousness that will make one not only a character of the story, but a central part of it.
When gazing at an abstract painting or listening to a symphony, it is set upon the consumer of the art piece to give their own interpretation, and by doing so, entering an introspective journey that will reveal far more about themselves than the artist. Han Kang is like that, turning her stories into instruments to have a conversation with our selves.
A central theme in her novels is the exertion of violence on non-violent recipients, and this one is not the exception. In this case it is manifested through the color white and the kind of things that usually go unnoticed. We tend to think of white as a synonym for pure, pristine, clear, and even bright, and that characteristic is the most important thing an object can possess. Once it loses this, whether by fading with the passage of time, or getting tainted, it loses its value.
metal door had once been white, but that brightness had faded over time
old white sweater
white glow of stone ruins
billowing whiteness within us
I would like to propose something, for anyone who reads this review, and wants to do it. I would like you to look around and find something white that is attached to a memory you hold dear in your heart, that no matter if the color fades or gets less pure it will still be valuable to you, and if you would like to share it with me, I鈥檒l appreciate it.
For me it's a little white box my best friend gifted me on my birthday a few years ago, and it has some of my favorite song lyrics, and book quotes. While we were having fun we accidentally spilled some sauce on it and the stain stayed. I used to be sad about it, my beautiful white box got tarnished forever, but looking at it now, it reminds me of our friendship, and how beautiful that day was for me. It doesn't matter if it isn't white anymore. The meaning is still pure.
_________________________________
Read December 17th,2021
In hindsight I shouldn't have read this on my birthday. Han Kang owns my feelings forever.
June 14, 2019
"I hold nothing dear. Not the place where I live, not the door I pass through every day, not even, damn it, my life."
Why you keep on doing this to me, Han Kang? Why? This is the 3rd time you have aesthetically broken my heart and I loved it!
February 27, 2023
(4.5) a meditation on the color white intertwined with a reflection on grief, memories, the passing of time and senses.
May 14, 2025
The White Book is a wonderful masterpiece of poetry melded with storytelling. Honestly, this anthology/poetry collection was unlike anything that I have read before. The depth of emotion that Han Kang skillfully distills on paper is astounding and heartwrenching. Several pieces of her exquisite prose lingered with me for a long time after I read this book. I guess that is how I would sum up this book in the simplest way. It is a work of literature that will linger with you, digging into the marrow of your bones and the catacombs of your soul.
The White Book is definitely worth a read! Perhaps it might not be for everyone since it is very intense emotionally. However, if you are up for a challenge and willing to step out of your comfort zone then I highly recommend you to give this book a try.
The White Book is definitely worth a read! Perhaps it might not be for everyone since it is very intense emotionally. However, if you are up for a challenge and willing to step out of your comfort zone then I highly recommend you to give this book a try.
February 24, 2019
I didn't connect with this one, unfortunately. I really enjoyed the previous two novels I read by Han Kang and was looking forward to reading this. However, it is quite a different style than her more traditional novels. This is an examination of the color white, paralleled with the story of a woman who loses her baby hours after it is born. It re-imagines that baby's life in tandem with the narrator's own life who came into existence only because her older sibling did not survive. It's a very melancholy subject but told in a sort of muted way鈥攍ike the color white. Interesting concept but hard for me to get very invested in, especially because this reads more like poetry at times. Some chapters are only 1 paragraph long; none are more than 3-4 pages. It's a quick read but could also be read very slowly, savoring every line because it's undeniable that Kang is a talented wordsmith. I just prefer, however, her other stories to this one.
January 27, 2019
This comes across as a series of meditations on things that are white, written as vignettes in probing and poignant language you could call prose poetry. I was delighted with the majority of more than 60 pieces, most 1-2 pages long, as wonderful play with metaphors of white. But I was also drawn past delight to accommodation to dark and melancholy paths. The narrator, reflecting back from elderly years, is sharing how she comes to terms with many sources of suffering through the power of language. We get little nuggets suggesting hard life during the Korean War and sources of grief like her mother鈥檚 loss of a prematurely born sibling. The collection includes wintry pieces on frost, snow, sleet, and fog, the austerity of the moon, and moonlight, the blank exuberance of white flowers and white butterflies, the apparent spiritual messages carried by white birds, the primal memories of white sugar cubes and white rice cake, the monotone of white shrouds and death residue of bones and ashes.
To give you a chance to experience the craft of this poetic mind, I share a complete one of these little personal essays/prose poems:
Sugar Cubes
She was around ten years old at the time. Her first outing to a coffee shop, accompanied by her aunt, was also the first time she set eyes on sugar cubes. Those squares wrapped in white paper possessed an almost unerring perfection, surely too perfect for her. She peeled the paper carefully off and brushed a finger over that granular surface. She crumbled a corner, touched it to her tongue, nibbled at that dizzying sweetness, then eventually placed it in a cup of water and sighed as she watched it melt away.
She isn鈥檛 really partial to sweet things anymore, but the sight of a dish of wrapped sugar cubes still evokes the sense of witnessing something precious. There are certain memories that remain inviolate to the ravages of time. And to those of suffering. It is not true that everything is colored by time and suffering. It is not true that they bring everything to ruin.
I was prepared not to like this collection due to my sense that framing them on whiteness was just too arbitrary. But my inspiration and emotional impact from these pieces was quite high. I didn鈥檛 quite get the pleasure I had from a recent 5-star reading experience with William Gass鈥� (alas unreviewed).
This book was provided for review by the published through the Netgalley program.
To give you a chance to experience the craft of this poetic mind, I share a complete one of these little personal essays/prose poems:
Sugar Cubes
She was around ten years old at the time. Her first outing to a coffee shop, accompanied by her aunt, was also the first time she set eyes on sugar cubes. Those squares wrapped in white paper possessed an almost unerring perfection, surely too perfect for her. She peeled the paper carefully off and brushed a finger over that granular surface. She crumbled a corner, touched it to her tongue, nibbled at that dizzying sweetness, then eventually placed it in a cup of water and sighed as she watched it melt away.
She isn鈥檛 really partial to sweet things anymore, but the sight of a dish of wrapped sugar cubes still evokes the sense of witnessing something precious. There are certain memories that remain inviolate to the ravages of time. And to those of suffering. It is not true that everything is colored by time and suffering. It is not true that they bring everything to ruin.
I was prepared not to like this collection due to my sense that framing them on whiteness was just too arbitrary. But my inspiration and emotional impact from these pieces was quite high. I didn鈥檛 quite get the pleasure I had from a recent 5-star reading experience with William Gass鈥� (alas unreviewed).
This book was provided for review by the published through the Netgalley program.
October 25, 2018
I really enjoyed Kang's acclaimed 'The Vegetarian', and this was so totally different in both format and style, that it came as something of a surprise. And while I could certainly 'appreciate' what she does here, I must say the results left me rather ... cold and indifferent; even though the sad event that occasions her musings here are something I can relate to, having had a stillborn older sibling myself.
Partially this has do to my dislike for spare poetic meditations, but may also be due to expecting something more along the lines of Kang's first translated work. I'm not sorry I read it, especially as it can be read in about an hour, as over half its 161 pages are blank, and many others contain only a handful of lines. I just don't think this will leave much of a lasting impression.
Partially this has do to my dislike for spare poetic meditations, but may also be due to expecting something more along the lines of Kang's first translated work. I'm not sorry I read it, especially as it can be read in about an hour, as over half its 161 pages are blank, and many others contain only a handful of lines. I just don't think this will leave much of a lasting impression.
October 10, 2024
Antes de Han Kang nascer, os pais tiveram outra beb茅 prematura que morreu passadas duas horas. Neste "Livro Branco", a autora divaga sobre coisas brancas, como sal, len莽os, nuvens, ossos, porque a m茫e lhe disse que essa beb茅 tinha cara de bolacha de arroz. Depois de ter sofrido tanto a ler "Atos Humanos", que era t茫o brutal e visceral que at茅 me tirava o ar, este livro n茫o me tocou minimamente. Pode ser uma quest茫o de sensibilidade ou o facto de n茫o ter tido nenhuma experi锚ncia que me fa莽a sentir esta culpa de sobrevivente que parece atormentar Han Kang, mas este livro n茫o 茅 para mim.
October 10, 2024
Well deserved Nobel Laureate for Literature 2024!
Very poetical, both in terms of the way the story is told through very brief observation as in the minimal usage of the white pages.
What I found striking in was the sense of loss and, for lack of a better word, 鈥渨hiteness鈥� the author conveyed in very little words. The main character lives in Warschau, a war torn and now rebuild city, and reflects on the death of some of her loved ones. Not much happens in the book but the main painful question which is raised is if you can live your life for someone else when they are gone. The writing is sparse, fitting the subject at hand, and got me questioning if wrote this book from an autobiographical point of view.
Very poetical, both in terms of the way the story is told through very brief observation as in the minimal usage of the white pages.
What I found striking in was the sense of loss and, for lack of a better word, 鈥渨hiteness鈥� the author conveyed in very little words. The main character lives in Warschau, a war torn and now rebuild city, and reflects on the death of some of her loved ones. Not much happens in the book but the main painful question which is raised is if you can live your life for someone else when they are gone. The writing is sparse, fitting the subject at hand, and got me questioning if wrote this book from an autobiographical point of view.
November 9, 2017
It鈥檚 been thrilling to see the recent high acclaim and popularity for Han Kang鈥檚 powerful distinctive writing. She won the Man Booker International Prize in 2016 for and her novel is one of the most devastating portrayals of the victims and survivors of mass warfare that I鈥檝e read. Even though she鈥檚 been publishing fiction in her native South Korea since 1995, Kang鈥檚 writing has only recently been made widely available to a Western audience through Deborah Smith鈥檚 excellent translations. It feels exciting that there is such a large back catalogue which might still yet make it into English translation. 鈥淭he White Book鈥� is another fascinating new book by Han Kang that is uniquely different from those other two English translations, but encompasses some similar themes and familiar inflections of feeling. It could be classified somewhere between a novel, poetry and a memoir. It鈥檚 more like an artistic exercise to self consciously meditate on a colour by making a list of white things and then exploring the deeply personal memories and connections surrounding these objects. The result is an intensely emotional series of accounts that form an outline of losses which are invisible, but still palpably felt in the author鈥檚 life 鈥� especially that of Kang鈥檚 sister who was born prematurely and died shortly after her birth.
Read my full
Read my full
October 13, 2024
through meditations on the colour white, kang imagines the life of her mother鈥檚 first child who died within 2 hours of being born, along with reflections on grief and the fragility of life. the book just scrapes 150 pages, but yet it鈥檚 full of such poignancy, such heart. a beautiful tribute to an older sister kang never got to have, a life not given the chance to be lived. i personally connected with this very deeply.
February 12, 2019
The narrator of this book doesn鈥檛 have a name in the book, although it鈥檚 no secret that this is an autobiographical work by this author and is a love letter to her long deceased older sister. The book starts with a list of white items, including swaddling bands, newborn gown, snow, ice and shroud. This book is a series of very short chapters consisting of meditation-like bursts of thoughts. Running through these thoughts is the story of the author鈥檚 young mother whose first child died only a couple of hours after birth. Throughout the years, the author has often thought of her sister and the grief that has never ended for her family.
The author not only writes about her sister鈥檚 death and the subsequent grief that death imposed upon her family but also writes in such beautiful detail of her sister鈥檚 two hours of life. I think one of the most touching parts of the book is when the author speaks directly to her sister, telling her how much she would have loved having a big sister.
This book has been short listed for the 2018 Man Booker International Prize and I can certainly understand why. Ms. Kang never fails to impress with the uniqueness of her work. 鈥淭he Vegetarian鈥� and 鈥淗uman Acts鈥� are both books that I will never forget and wrench my heart just thinking about them. I know that her newest book will be one that I will pick up again and will open randomly just to enjoy reading one of these lovely ruminations. I read a review that referred to the author鈥檚 short chapters as prayers and I think that is totally appropriate.
Most highly recommended.
This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.
The author not only writes about her sister鈥檚 death and the subsequent grief that death imposed upon her family but also writes in such beautiful detail of her sister鈥檚 two hours of life. I think one of the most touching parts of the book is when the author speaks directly to her sister, telling her how much she would have loved having a big sister.
This book has been short listed for the 2018 Man Booker International Prize and I can certainly understand why. Ms. Kang never fails to impress with the uniqueness of her work. 鈥淭he Vegetarian鈥� and 鈥淗uman Acts鈥� are both books that I will never forget and wrench my heart just thinking about them. I know that her newest book will be one that I will pick up again and will open randomly just to enjoy reading one of these lovely ruminations. I read a review that referred to the author鈥檚 short chapters as prayers and I think that is totally appropriate.
Most highly recommended.
This book was given to me by the publisher in return for an honest review.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,352 reviews
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get help and learn more about the design.