Another beautifully written novel by Han Kang. An exploration of loneliness and helpless of language. The silent struggle of both main characters is touching and their meeting at the end was tender and rewarding to the slow progression of their stories.

I remember years ago when I was a PhD student in classics, a visiting professor probingly asked us all why we had chosen to learn these dead languages. Everyone in the room had compelling reasons—a desire to understand and curate a body of literature that still exerts a profound impact on modern discourse; a sense of ethical obligation to reckon with problematic rhetorics of imperialism and their colonial legacies; an interest in recovering and revivifying the subaltern voices of antiquity, women, slaves, queer people, that have been erased from the canon. But as I listened to all these high-minded ideals, I couldn't honestly recall why I chose to learn Latin and Greek. When I think back to my earlier undergraduate classes, I remember them as a motley of queers and Catholics, and I was in both camps. Some students were there because they wanted to understand the patrimony of the Catholic Church, to read the Bible in Greek and to listen to Latin Mass; others were there to read a literature that was so profoundly queer—Sappho, Plato, Anacreon, Catullus, a pantheon of early homoerotic poets and philosophers. But as Han Kang's novel subtly shows, there is a special, underlying character to the dead language class, a silent shyness, a patient, introspective love of language, a philology that obsesses over words and their meanings even when no one speaks them any longer or can be confident about what they mean any more. Every ancient Greek class is committed to the necromancy of close reading, trying to revitalize beauty while doggedly parsing the monstrous chain of verbal prefixes and suffixes, reduplications and ablauts. It is an art that appeals to soft-spoken introverts.

Ethereal and delicate, <i>Greek Lessons</i> is about an enigmatic and tender connection that forms between a young woman in Seoul, who has lost her language, and her ancient Greek teacher, who has become blind. They are a contrasting pair of lonely outsiders. All through her childhood, she had eagerly taught herself Hangul and voraciously read books in the library but then, at the age of sixteen and then later again, when she lost her custody battle for her child, she simply lost her language, suffering a baffling form of aphasia in which she no longer could think in language or process the sounds. She had become mute and no psychotherapy or special education could remedy her condition. Unexpectedly, it was a French lesson in her childhood that triggered her memories of phonemes and language. So when she suffers a relapse, she decides to learn ancient Greek, hoping that its plethora of grammatical forms will help reconnect her with language. Her teacher, on the other hand, is a Korean man who had moved to Germany in his adolescence, was diagnosed with a condition of degenerative blindness and had committed himself to ancient Greek, to find some redemptive consolation in Platonic philosophies of virtue and excellence and forms beyond the material world.

In its style and plot, <i>Greek Lessons</i> reminds me of Yasunari Kawabata's <i>Dandelions</i>, about a woman who suddenly loses the ability to recognize her fiancé and is locked in a psychiatric ward while her fiancé and mother stand outside talking in circles about beauty and calligraphy and madness, constantly re-examining their memories to understand her condition. In both novels, there is a contemplative attempt to understand how we perceive the world and pathologize those who see the world differently. In <i>Greek Lessons</i>, the mute protagonist rejects the advice of her therapist. His interpretations and rationalizations of her condition are banal. It's not trauma or stress or some childhood memory that causes her muteness; language itself is the root of her aporia. Words terrorize her; they "thrust their way into her sleep like skewers". Language is the most intimate form of touch, vibrations of air moving up from the body, past the lips and into the ears of the other. And language requires her to "disseminate her self". Language involves an intrusive form of presence that is inimical to her character. Like Kawabata, there is a skepticism of therapists' explanations and doctrinal convictions about the human mind. <i>Greek Lessons</i> is a gentle and often paradoxical meditation on the nature of language and pathology.

I liked this book a lot, although at times it became too dense. But reading it, I felt genuine moments of self-recognition and it was wonderful to read. Thank you to Netgalley and the publishers for the opportunity to read!

This was kinda crazy. What a strange book. I am happy to say that it definitely worked for me, and I read it at the perfect time.

We follow a woman who doesn't speak, and a man that can't see. They both seem to be in search of something. The woman has lost all language, and doesn't know how to get it back. But for the man, language doesn't seem to be enough, for he will soon lose all sight. He is eager to talk, and all she does is listen.

We start to get these vignettes into their respective backstories, as well as following a present timeline in which the woman is one of the man's Ancient Greek students.

Let's just get into it. This book is extremely dense, and I don't mean that as a bad thing. I just mean the writing feels thick, like you have to use some elbow grease to get into it and vibe with it.
It reminded me of one of my favorite books of all time: This is How You Lose the Time War.
Both of these books have very poetic/flowery writing that almost seems too whimsical. This can 100% work for me if I feel this writing serves a bigger purpose in the overall execution of the novel.

This book felt like a dream. A dream that I got to expand on each night. The characters still feel distant to me, and yet I feel like I got to know them in rather intimate ways.

This book felt like looking into a neighbors window and getting glimpses of their movements and routines; just enough information that you can start to understand them a bit better as individuals, but not enough to explain any of their quirks.

I can 100% see why someone would hate this lol. And I would totally get it. I think this book can come off as snobby, pretentious, and just straight up confusing. The writing is doing a lot. It's sometimes saying a whole lot of nothing, but the way this book made me feel? As I reflect on this novel, I can still recall the dreamy sensation I felt, and the hazy images I conjured all whilst reading.

The reason I said I read this book at the perfect time is because I have been on a huge linguistics kick! If you enjoy language(s) and linguistics as themes in your novels, then I would encourage you to give this a try, that being one of the main elements in Greek Lessons.

Thank you so much to NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group/Hogarth for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

A beautifully written, quiet novel that gets better with every re-read (so far I've read it twice). We broke this down on the podcast if you want more.

Thank you for the early copy of this enticing book. As a non-Greek speaker married into a Greek-American family, the description and title appealed to me. Initially, I requested the book for considering on the Read.Talk.Grow podcast which then went on hiatus. I know have purchased a physical copy of the book and look forward to enjoying it in the future.

Greek Lessons (희랍어 시간), by Han Kang (한강), was originally published in Korean in 2011, and was translated into English by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won and published by Hogarth Press in 2023. This is Han Kang's fifth book translated into English and was one of my most anticipated reads of 2023.

I consider Han Kang to be one of my favorite authors. "The Vegetarian" and "Human Acts" were both stellar, memorable reading experiences for me, and I was looking forward to the same gut wrenching feeling, enveloped in exquisite prose. Unfortunately, "Greek Lessons" did not quite deliver for me. While the prose was beautiful, I didn't really become that invested in the book, and found my attention spiraling often.

The plot follows the relationship between two people, a woman losing her ability to speak, and a man losing his ability to see. The prevalent themes are those of human isolation, suffering, connection, and intimacy. It's very much a character driven novel, rather than a plot driven novel. That's not usually an issue for me, but in this case I found it hard to stay engaged. Perhaps my mistake was that, in trying to conquer my long Netgalley list, I resorted to the audiobook, and this is a book best read than listened to. Out of my love for Han Kang's previously read books, I am considering giving this one a second chance and trying to read it at a slow pace, but most likely not for a while.

Thank you to NetGalley and Horgarth Press (Random House) for the e-arc in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own. "Greek Lessons" has been available since April 2023.

Within the first chapter of this book, I wasn’t sure I was going to finish it. But because I have a rule that I always give books at least four chapters before I DNF, I decided to stick it out. AND I am so glad I did!

This is what I would call quiet literary fiction. It was the perfect read right after finishing a fast-paced thriller. This book explores so many interesting topics such as religion, existentialism, childhood trauma, language, cultural differences, and more. But when I think about it, I think the most important theme is how we cope with challenges in life caused by situations that are out of our control, and how those challenges have a tendency to alienate people from others — often through no fault of their own. It made me realize how often people are walking around bearing something really hard and doing so quietly.

While this isn’t a book you’re going to see on BookTok, I predict that this is a book people will still be reading 50 years from now. I think this is the kind of book that could be assigned reading in a college-level course because of the wide breadth of philosophical topics it explores.

And, yes, given the title, part of the book does take place in a Greek course. I took three years of Ancient Greek in college, so I loved the parts where they discussed the intricacies of the Greek language, and what it’s like learning a dead language.

Expect this one to be a slow burn at the start, but given that it’s less than 200 pages, it’s over rather quickly.

My first thought after finishing this one is that I want to read it again! I rarely feel that way about a book.

3.5
Greek Lessons was enjoyable, but it took me a while to figure out which characters were controlling the narrative at any one time, and that didn't really become clear until quite a way into the book, when the Korean man who teaches Greek and who had lived in Germany for some time, began to interact with the mature woman student in his class, due to a minor accident and his need for help.

Both these characters are dealing with issues, the woman has just lost custody of her 6 year old child, due to an imbalance in power and wealth between the two parents. She was mute as a child and had a special relationship with language, which has lead to her unique desire to learn to read and write in Greek.

The teacher remembers a lost, unrequited love and the mistakes he made. His narrative is addressed to her, there are letters that recount his memories, as well as the discomfort of living in another culture and his desire to return to Korea without his parents.

Ultimately I was a little disappointed, because it lacked the emotive drive that I had encountered before from Han Kang. There were flashes of it, but about halfway, I lost interest and stopped reading for a while. I am glad I persevered as I enjoyed the last 30% when the characters finally have a more intimate encounter and are brought out of themselves, but I was hoping for more, much earlier on.

In my eyes, Han Kang can never do wrong. I’ve read a few of her previous works (The Vegetarian, Human Acts, The White Book), so it’s safe to say that I am quite a fan of hers.

Greek Lessons can be described as a story of loss. It follows a Greek lecturer who lost his sight and his pupil who has lost her voice.

Although I think the writing itself was exceptional and the storyline engaging, I just felt like there was something missing for me. Perhaps because the writing style was a bit more detached and analytical.

Regardless, I will be recommending this to my friends who are particularly interested in abstract works.

Greek Lessons was excellent. I love Kang's writing and I liked the examination of translation. The relationship of the main character and professor was interesting

This was an interesting, pristinely written, yet difficult at times to access novel about trauma, and loss. Two people ==a man who is losing his sight and a woman who has lost her speech--both of whom are both dealing with difficult circumstances--develop a bond that slowly brings them out of their individual isolation. I found it meditative and thoughtful, and fascinating in its changing points of view.

Disappointed that I'm dnf-ing this after how much I enjoyed The Vegetarian.
It was honestly just quite boring, I was having a hard time understanding what was going on, and nothing was motivating me to put in the effort to care.

Sadly this one didn't work for me - I found the writing really nebulous and abstract in a way that prevented me from being engaged in the story. As a reader I always want to have something to ground my stories, and I just didn't find that here.

This was a complex but delightful novel. Kang's works are always so unique, and this book did not disappoint. There was so much nuance and care that went into this book, and I loved it so much.

Greek Lessons focuses on the lives of two characters: a lecturer in Ancient Greek who is losing his sight; and one of his pupils, who has lost the ability to speak. The book explores the nature and limitations of language, but it also navigates motifs of trauma, loss, loneliness, and the search for connection.

Having read The Vegetarian, I was really excited to read Greek Lessons, and I thought it was both poignant and, at times, challenging to decipher-- much like the characters' own journeys toward both communication and being understood. This is definitely a text to approach with an alert mind, as its brevity does not indicate the ease of Kang's writing. Nevertheless, I thought the book was beautifully executed.

There is something distinctive with Han Kang’s writing. She first captured me with The Vegetarian so I knew I had to watch out for her upcoming works.

Greek Lessons did not give a powerful beginning as I was struggling to understand what’s happening. Still, Han Kang managed to capture my attention through her beautiful prose and writing. This made me appreciate the two main characters in the story. Overall, the book explored themes of alienation, identity formation, and relationship building through language.

What is the language to use when I cannot see and one cannot speak? How can you communicate? Do you revive an ancient language only to leave the right meaning on a piece of paper or do you rely on touch only? Does it make the love just a feeling or a necessity to share unspoken and unseen feelings?

How hard it must felt to look at someone with a declining vision and hope to see their lips move to speak words or open your mouth to not make sound when you can say them clearly in your mind. Two characters in this book were living exactly this. They were in so much pain and afraid of losing more yet they could not help each other.. They just sat there in each other presence

The Vegetarian was a tale of uncomfortable coexistence. This one is more of an agreeable, not sufficient but will do in absence of other options, coexistence. I applaud Han Kang to be able create both kind.

Thank you to Net Galley and Random House for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.. A young woman in Seoul takes a Greek language class yet she loses her voice. The Greek teacher is attracted to the young woman and he is slowly losing his sight. They share the pain in their lives which bring them together - one of torn between two cultures and languages, the other one of loss of a mother and custody battle for her son. The storytelling goes between first person and third person. The passages sounded lyrical and beautiful but I found it difficult to follow the story line. I read the author's other book, The Vegetarian, and I felt the same about the writing. I think the thing that drew me in was the interesting cover.

quick and thought-provoking. beautiful and slow. not the banger that The Vegetarian was, but I enjoyed my time reading it.

GREEK LESSONS is an exploration of language and communication, told through the perspectives of a young woman who has lost her ability to speak and her teacher who is losing his ability to see. I picked this volume up because I had loved Kang's previous book, THE VEGETARIAN, in which she deftly conveyed the alienation and anguish that comes when people fail to understand one another. GREEK LESSONS was an opportunity to convey the opposite - the connection and intimacy that can form despite apparent barriers in communication.

Unfortunately, I found it difficult to get through this slim volume. Between sections, Kang shifts perspective between the two protagonists, but I sometimes found it difficult to follow the shifts. The language is poetic and frequently abstract, perhaps to convey a sense of universality - but this contributed to a difficulty in becoming invested in each character and their relationship. I think I would have enjoyed this better had I approached it with the understanding that it was poetic prose rather than long-form fiction.