The Invisible Hotel transports readers to a realm where dreams intertwine with reality, and the shadows of the past loom large over the present. Set against the backdrop of post-Korean War society, the narrative follows protagonist Yewon as she grapples with the haunting legacy of her country's collective trauma. In the decaying confines of her ancestral village, Yewon's existence is suffused with a sense of unease, a feeling compounded by her recurring dreams of a mysterious hotel with infinite keys and infinite rooms.

From the outset, Ham's prose captivates with its vivid imagery and evocative language, drawing readers into a world steeped in foreboding. However, as the narrative unfolds, cracks begin to emerge in the facade of intrigue. While the writing itself is undeniably compelling, the pacing proves erratic, veering between moments of languid introspection and frenetic bursts of action. This inconsistency detracts from the overall cohesiveness of the story, leaving readers grappling with a sense of narrative whiplash.

The characterisation, too, feels underdeveloped and lacking in depth. While Yewon serves as a sympathetic anchor amidst the tumultuous events unfolding around her, her inner struggles often feel overshadowed by the weight of allegory and symbolism. Secondary characters remain frustratingly opaque, their motivations obscured by the nebulous haze of metaphor. This lack of tangible emotional resonance hampers the reader's ability to form meaningful connections with the cast of characters, further diminishing the impact of the narrative.

Even with its flaws, The Invisible Hotel delivers gripping moments of suspense, especially in its chilling horror scenes. Ham dives deep into themes of collective trauma and societal turmoil, providing a poignant commentary on the lasting scars of conflict. However, while the ambition is evident, the execution falls short. Instead of delving into meaningful discussions about society and politics, the narrative stays in the realm of abstract symbolism, sacrificing emotional depth for mysterious allure.

It ultimately falls short of its lofty ambitions. The novel's uneven pacing, underdeveloped characterisation, and thematic obfuscation detract from its overall impact, leaving behind a trail of unresolved questions and unfulfilled promises. I am only left to ponder the enigmatic corridors of Ham's creation, grappling with the haunting echoes of what could have been.

*I received an ARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thanks for the free book.*

"The Invisible Hotel" is about a traumatised young Korean woman living with her mother. Her father has recently died which has disrupted her plans and life. Politically, the situation with North Korea is frail too, people are prepping for a war. The protagonists brother is in the army and close to the border. Then our protagonist meets an elderly North Korean refugee whom she drives to the prison outside the city where a long lost relative of hers can be found.

So far, this sounds quite ordinary. But this book is very surreal, Gothic horror-ish, existential. The protagonist dreams about a hotel with many rooms and keys. A place which allows one to escape. The trauma of herself is mingled with intergenerational trauma, the last war, history creeping up on you. Her mother washes the bones of her ancestor in a bathtub, she dreams that her bones will join them too. She spirals, barely eats, hallucinates or is she?

What a wild, dark book that kept me going even though I was quite confused. I also learned a lot!

4 stars

Wonderful ideas, interesting stories. They were so thought-provoking and original. The writing was so sleek and readable too. I can only recommend this.

"The Invisible Hotel" presents a captivating premise, blurring reality and hallucination in a haunting narrative. While the tradition of keeping bones in bathtubs adds depth, transitions between real life and dream sequences can feel disjointed. Despite its flaws, the book offers intriguing insights into family dynamics and political impact, delivering a compelling exploration of identity and heritage amidst uncertainty.

Agh, this is such a bummer. I was really looking forward to this one and couldn't get past the first 40 pages. Everyone enjoys a slow burn from time to time, but I just couldn't get into this one at all. I am still very thankful to the publisher and author for sending this one my way, but it just wasn't for me.

I was hooked by the premise immediately. With no expectations going in I found the story to be very haunting, unsure at first if Yewon was dreaming about the hotel or if it was a hallucination. It had a surrealist quality that kept drawing me in. I connected with the characters and felt awful that their family history was so unfortunate, especially considering the political turmoil of the North and how it overshadowed everything in their lives. The most disturbing detail was the tradition of keeping the bones of lost loved ones piled in the bath tub. The idea they would obsessively wash them every day, and the description of the smell was vivid, immersing me in the story.

Ham’s descriptions of the hotel in Yewon’s dreams also stuck with me including the old frail man and his ominous warnings. The graphic details of the long hallways with infinite doors and the people who would wander between them searching for answers. It all felt like a nightmare. I found the rumors circulating about North Korea fascinating although disturbing, curious if they were influenced by more than imagination. The themes of political divide and the country’s collective heritage shone through the characters in this story, making more of an impact when told through the eyes of family. The pace was consistently steady throughout, although it did slow for me when Yewon visited Seoul with Min. The writing style had an urgency to it which I felt more so in the dream scenes, and the author’s voice was compelling enough to keep me turning the pages.

I started with high expectations but was confused by the book. It has a slow pacing and the back and forth left me lost. I kept wanting more. I would personally not classify it as horror.

Yewon lives in a small village in South Korea, Dalbitsori. Here all families keep their ancestors' bones who died since the Korean War in 1953 and fill their bathtubs with it. They wash the bones several times a day and even give birth to their children in the bones. It became a tradition for the grandparents and parents who experienced the war closely, but Yewon's generation and herself question the whole thing and wish for a normal life, far away from the bones and the ever-present death. At the same time, Yewon is trying to come to terms with her father's death and worries about her little brother, who is serving in the military. She dreams of a hotel with countless doors and a few well-known visitors at night and even when she is awake.

First of all, I'm disagree about this book labeled as horror book. Well it has haunting atmosphere and pretty disturbing but it's honestly just literary fiction. So it's not a "real" horror book that I expected it would be.

The pacing was quite slow. The plot of the story goes back and forth between the time when Yewon in her real life time, and when she was at "the hotel".

There are some interesting parts in the book and I like it
- The bones. Wonder you fill your bathtub with the bones and you have to wash them almost everyday, it's so strange, disgusting, and creepy.
- The family dynamics. I found dealing with the whole family dynamic super exciting and I could empathize with many, many points.

The hotel. The hotel experience was a bit confusing for me and sometimes I couldn't keep up but I could imagine that it was about Yewon's inner struggle with herself, war and death, but unfortunately I found the execution far too weak. But I'm sure if this is converted into visual potrayal rather than descriptive text, it would be more easy and interesting.

Overall the book was good, I like the concept of the story and I can still enjoyed the whole story.

Thank you Netgalley, Zando, and Yeji Y Ham for the ARC in exchange of my honest review!

In one word - HAUNTING.

There is a fog like feel to this novel. I instantly felt a chill, mystery, something deeply and heavily unknown. You float along with the words so peacefully placed and to a patient rhythm. A mother, her daughters and son.

We follow them day to day and the matter of fact tone reminds us that we all have secrets, weights in our lives that can often feel like burdens.

What unravels is a cryptic history and a story of neverending healing.

I wanted more from this book and it never gave me everything that I was hoping for. It was a decent book, but not my favorite. The most well done parts of the book were the themes of generational trauma and war. The gothic horror never did much for me and so I don't think that was really a part of the story at least to the level that I was thinking it was going to be.

I'm confused on why this was a horror genre, I personally think this is more literary fiction. This was really slow pace but lots of rich detail. The plot did get confusing and felt like it was all over the place.

My reading experience of this novel was unexpectedly enjoyable, as it deviated from my initial expectations. The horror within its pages is derived from the disjointed and surreal structure of the narrative, as well as the poignant observations on the far-reaching impact of trauma, particularly on the character of Yewon and those around her. I highly recommend this novel to any avid reader of slow-burning horror tales with surreal undertones.



I would like to express my gratitude to Netgalley and Zando Projects for granting me the opportunity to peruse the ARC of The Invisible Hote

Yeji Y. Ham deals with some deeply intriguing topics in an exceptionally delicate manner. Her writing really pulled me into this world of bathtubs filled with bones and a country grappling with generational trauma and grief. The transitions between the Hotel and reality were extremely smooth and created the most eerie feeling. I could relate to the family dynamics and it felt all too real to see them drift alart and suffer in their own ways while not being able to let go completely.
The experience of the Hotel was a little too out there for me and I couldn’t quite follow along. Some parts often felt unfinished and left in a limbo.

Something about it just did not work for me, pacing was quite slow and half way through the book didn't capture my attention at all. Aside from the really fascinating part about the bones I wasn't captivated!

I'm not sure why people are saying this book wasn't horror—women giving birth on the fetid bones of their ancestors so they can never forget the agony and intergenerational trauma of war is a deeply grotesque image and is the heart of the novel. The slippages between the dreamworld of the hotel and the narrator's real-life are really brilliantly done and create an otherworldly and out-of-time sensation. To say the ending was a gut punch is understating it, devastating.

When I read the description of this book it sounded fantastic and I was so up into read it. But when I enter to it I wasn’t so sure how to feel about it. Is such a SLOW burn book, I didn’t like I have to actually do work like a puzzle to understand the book and the whole way of some parraf broke in the middle and I am like totally lost. It is a unique book and rare in a way but I struggle so much in follow and and feel like the whole story plot was dragged so long and become boring

This was an unusual depiction of generational trauma in North Korea. Yeowan lives in a fever dream. Working for her mom during the day, and dreaming at night of a hotel with many keys to many doors going nowhere, with a man in the woods constructing all this. All her ancestors wash the bones of their families in the bathtubs of their homes. That image really stuck with me. This takes place during the reign of Kim Jong Jun, where the threat of war is always present. Yeowan longs to live in Seoul and tries to make a plan to get out by staying with her sister in the city, where she sees the contrast of rapid consumerism versus poverty.

I would say this is more of a magical realism book than gothic horror because no horror actually occurs, just the threat of it. I also didn't understand the symbolism of the hotel. What did that represent? People lost during the war? The plot is a bit confusing at time, but the author focuses on the differences between North and South Korea, and how living in a constant state of fear affects its population.
The writing style is lyrical, but the book itself could be about 50 pages shorter.

I don't always like such a slow burn but this is an exception for me. I felt like I was getting a little more broken, bit by bit, as I meandered through this story and all the memories of the characters and of the country itself. It wouldn't have held my interest so well without the mystery behind the events, but it actually seemed realistic using magical realism to show how generational trauma can affect a nation. The descriptions of Korea were also really interesting.
Thanks to NetGalley for letting me read this

This is not really a review as I gave up after the third chapter (I admit I am an impatient reader). It is just to say why it didn't work for me. Not posting the review anywhere else. Thank you for the copy though.

I requested because I am very much interested in translation plus it was going to be my first book set in Korea. Also, because of my rekindled interest in horror novels. Well, this was too slow for me. Nothing seemed clear, and I wasn't following where it was going. Could not connect with the writing style or the characters.

I’m not sure who needs to know but lately a lot of ARCs are arriving in some kind of format where it’s a puzzle to put the book in order. Sentences stretch across the page, paragraphs are broken up in the middle randomly, and one or two letters of a word are by themselves on a line. At some point, it makes it impossible to read.