One Hundred Shadows is my first foray into South Korean fiction and having read South East Asian Literature throught my years, I was keen to try a new perspective

This book is simply stunning

Don't expect K-Drama perfection, or the bright stars of K-Pop, Eungyo and Mujae represesent the reality of South Korea, the people who do not reside in plush apartments of the Gangnam district

Set in a low-rent area of Seoul, Eungyo and Mujae are dropouts who seek work in a repair shop. Our main characters are emotionaly awkward, yet are able to clearly reflect on the phenomenon of the shadows of workers becoming sentient

The book is beautifully presented and the prose is simple, yet has an immense impact. It reflects the restraint of expression in South Korean culture while the content balks against it


I feel that this is an incredibly important piece of literature, not just for South East Asia as a whole, but globally

This ARC was kindly given for free and my review is voluntary

I couldn’t get into this book at all. I hated the dialogue, I felt confused right from the start, and the way the dialogue was written had me lost at points.

Thank you to Kensington Books, Erewhon Books, and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this title!

3.25 stars! Uniquely contemplative and saturated with an eerie flair of magical realism, One Hundred Shadows is a short novel set in a Korean market spanning multiple buildings and populated by electronics vendors. It follows Eungyo and Mujae as they navigate a changing relationship amidst an increasingly unstable economic climate that seems intent on slowly but surely eroding their livelihoods.

Interwoven within Jungeun’s reflection of society and this contemplation of precarious economic circumstances is the narrative of ‘rising shadows’ which trails the characters throughout the novel. This unexplained element of the supernatural disrupts the reality of the setting, creating an unsettling yet alluring atmosphere. I love that the novel is suspended in between a modern-day reality and the world of a supernatural, surrealist landscape.

The more I think about it, the more I’m certain I’m not sure how to feel about this novel. It’s short and easy to read despite the unique, almost disjointed writing style. However, the succinct yet repetitive dialogue did make it a bit difficult to become fully attached to the characters and the story itself. But the manner in which this slowed down the pacing could also serve a purpose—to add to the bleakness of the characters and their environment, reveal their emptiness—so I kind of liked it.

Furthermore, the symbolism of the rising shadows is striking and adds an entirely new dimension to the story. The shadows, which rise and either flee or cling to their person, are effectively written as a metaphor for the emotional state of the characters. The way they are personified just heightens the unsettling nature of the story, emphasising the power of our anguish, and the way we sometimes detach ourselves from our emotions as a way to carry on.

Most of all, I really enjoyed the subtlety of the magical realism and the developing relationship between Eungyo and Mujae, as they slowly and authentically fell in love.

I really do think that this is a beautiful novel with so much intention and meaning written between the lines. The atmosphere it creates is truly astounding, and I’m holding onto that feeling, even if the writing style wasn’t my favourite.

Jungeun offers such an important perspective of the reality beneath the glamour of South Korea that is not only illuminating but empathetic in its critique. One Hundred Shadows is full of contradictions that it embraces so well. Though bleak, unsettling, and even somewhat mystical, it’s authentic, emotional and beautiful all the same.

I’ll start by saying I enjoyed the book. At times though it felt disjointed, but maybe that’s the point. It’s as if the novel is a shadow itself. It took me about 40 pages to make sense of the plot and then I was hooked. The ideas around class disparity, gentrification, human suffering, and the mundane of life are powerful here. I would have loved to see more character depth and development along with a more robust plot but overall not bad. I will note some odd translation choices, words like ‘leant’ instead of ‘leaned’ or ‘aureole’ instead of ‘aura’. These at times took me out of the story and reminded me I wasn’t reading the original language and I wonder how much may have been lost in translation at those times. Thanks to NetGalley and Kensington Books for the advanced reader copy.

'One Hundred Shadows' was translated from Korean to English, and I'm not sure if the issue is the translation but I found the dialogue between the two main characters (and the story in general) hard to follow. The style of storytelling is very disjointed; both the syntax and diction are inharmonious and I was not immersed in what was happening. The background given for the main characters was sparse so I felt little connection with them. The book opens with a description of the Korean "sunshower" or "fox wedding" legend, which I had to research to understand and was pretty fascinating. Even then, I didn't get the connection between the legend and the shadows that make appearances occasionally throughout the story. There's a constant fear of the shadows "rising up", but there's no explanation for why this came about. It might be triggered by grief or depression, and the constant warning from others not to follow the shadows could result in the loss of oneself entirely but that's just an assumption from what I could gather.

The blurb seems misleading; I was anticipating an "emotional magical realist examination of futility in a capitalist society". Instead, I got the characters chatting about the likelihood of their strip of electronics shops being demolished every once in a while, a two-page passage about whorls, and a disheartening recounting of what it's like to grow up poor in Korea. The prologue also mentions that the text takes inspiration from the 2009 Yongsan Tragedy; there were discussions of some building demolitions and financial jargon in layman's terms, but without research, I would think that the characters are just suffering from poverty. This book is bleak, and stays bleak throughout:

"...is it really so natural and inevitable for an old woman to eke out a living by scavenging cardboard boxes? Is that part of the essence of human life? Is dying like that down to the individual, nothing to do with anyone else?"

Although a short book at 148 pages, it was difficult for me to make it through to the end. Footnotes on the specifics of South Korean culture and etiquette would help fill in some of the blanks in storytelling. The formatting and punctuation are lacking and I had to reread sections to distinguish portions of dialogue from the rest. I'd recommend another pass for editing before the official release.

I guess this book came out in 2010 but it's being republished now. Regardless, I love bleak books that have no resolutions. I know that sounds sarcastic but I can assure you, it's not. There's a special place in my heart for books like this.

Everything in this story felt... off. The materializing shadows that never get fully explained, the quickly disappearing buildings, and just the entire vibe of this book was so off-putting and amazing.

It felt very much like Bae Suah's Untold Night and Day - which I obviously love - so it was obvious that I was going to adore this book. Its dreamlike storytelling and offbeat weirdness kept me hooked and I just wish this would have been longer. I've added this to my list of books I want to get physical copies of! That's how much I liked this!

The concept of this story is really imaginative and what drew me in to begin with but a few things made it fall flat for me.
1. The dialogue was so simple and felt like unreal, superficial conversations that didn't offer much to the plot.
2. The lack of grammatic dialogue cues made it very difficult to follow.
3. There was general disconnect from the story. I never knew where I was, who was talking, or what was happening. I found myself often referring back to the book description so I could remember where the story was going.

Thank you Net Galley, Kensington Books, and Erewhon Books for an advanced copy of this book!

I devoured this in one day! What a lovely and odd little book. Immediately, the setting, writing and plot make you feel uneasy. As if there is a “shadow” lurking while you read it. At first the dialogue was hard to follow but once you understood the cadence of the characters’ speech it was easy! Mix in the author’s social commentary and you have yourself the kind of explorative story that really makes you think!

Do go into this one knowing that you’re dropped into the middle of the story with not much explanation for what’s going on. But trust the journey the story is taking you on and you will for sure enjoy it!

Fun fact, One Hundred Shadows was originally published in 2016 and is now being published in a gorgeous hardback edition on August 20th, 2024!

I can’t wait to enjoy more translated fiction this year!

I was originally drawn to the intriguing sounding premise of One Hundred Shadows, people's shadows rising? Wow, what would be the potential outcomes, or twists of this phenomenon? Even just the title was super cool.

And while I realize that the shadows would be somewhat metaphoric and/or related to the social and political messages of the story (it says right there in the blurb the focus is on a slum in the otherwise bright lights of Seoul, South Korea. The honest response from was a bit of disappointment for this book.

Which was frustrating. I have no problem with sociological critique tales, especially challenging the perspectives of the powerful and flashy, and I don't mind a supernatural theme being used sparsely and as an allegory, but I felt like One Hundred Shadows was perhaps just a bit too specific to its niche? As an NZ reader I don't know much about South Korea, and although themes of demolishing slums to build tennis courts are unfortunately highly universal I felt like this book might have had more impact in Korea than outside.

To be a bit more specific, the story presents as a few slices of Eungyo and Mujae's life occasionally mentioning something odd about shadows and occasionally presenting a poignant image about the slums and the impending demolition, but mostly just small anecdote moments of their lives. I think a highly attentive reader who wanted to study this book more academically and connect all the moments and images together with the brief shadow metaphors would enjoy this, or as I already said perhaps if you lived in Seoul or South Korea some of the stories might be more relatable (just as a story about Dunedin would be to me!) however as a general read I found the book a little directionless.

We have the seams of two novels put before us, and never are those seams brought together. We have the fable-like beginning and end with our characters in the wilderness, dwelling on their shadows and the meaning of those shadows in the world. Then the middle section of the hard-scrabble life of Eungyo making up the bulk of the work. This part of the book with its critique on social class and a non-standard love story was stronger. The shadows were so very little utilized for large swaths of the book and never really explained to the point where I found this conceit unnecessary.

2,5/5

For some people who lived a monotonous life, working paycheck to paycheck with minimum wage, the world may look bleak, dry, and dull. In this book, that is the world that the main character is living in. Eun Gyo is a drop out who work in a small repair shop in Seoul. But, there's a sprinkle of fantasy in this world. Unfortunately it doesn't make it less gray. People in this world can have their shadows rising depending on the circumstances that they're in. Throughout the book, I am trying to figure out what this shadow does, what causes this shadow to rise, but it seems that there's not enough pointer to fully grasp what it actually is. To me, the shadow is the visualization of one's internal turmoil. There's a scene about someone who grieved and the shadow has grown so much bigger and it can grow to the point that they have their own entity separated from the person. The bigger the emotional anguish, the wilder the shadow gets. When someone is depressed, sometimes you can spot it with your eyes that said person looks like they have a shadow hovering above them. I can relate to that.

So that's as far as the magical realism world building goes. I admit I love the very intimate yet at the same time distant narrative about the place Eun Gyo lived, the buildings near her work place, what stores are there, and the kind of people near the area. Hwang Jungeun is really nailing that writing style where everything seems as they're abandoned and desolate. It's great.

But.. this book is a big miss for me. There's a lot of time skip so out of the blue that as a reader, i feel frustrated as to what the characters are doing prior the start of time skip. I don't mind time skips, I don't mind fragmentary style, but it needs something that either tied it up in the end, or it being consistently jumping around from the beginning, I would have enjoy it more. The pace is slow and jagged.

Other than that, there's barely any plot. I mean, Eun Gyo's work place and the near buildings are demolished but that only happens nearing the end of the book. The rest is so random and insignificant. don't think this can be considered all vibe no plot either, because there is no vibe.

The characterization? At least there's Mr. Yeo, Eun Gyo's boss that I think is interesting enough to go through the story. Eun Gyo and Mujae was sooooo plain and indistinguishable. Their love story... instant love trope where the readers are barely introduced what kind of characters they are, why they are interested in each other, or any build-up as to what made them a couple in the first place?? So, Thank you Mr. Yeo for existing in the story.

The ending, eh. It was fine. At this point I have no expectation anymore. The premise of the book is great, what it aims to be is interesting, but for me the execution is lacking in many aspects.

Thank you NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an eARC to review this book.

It wasn't bad and I thought the concept of shadows rising was very interesting. Of course they were a metaphor for a poor mental state, but I might have enjoyed it better if that aspect was explored more. Overall I was just very bored.

I also couldn't tell for quite some time how old the characters were because the narration felt childish.

I loved the weird speculative premise of this novel: a world where shadows can detach and lead humans astray. But the novel didn't really deliver on that premise, which is maybe as much a failing of the summary and descriptions as the novel itself. Perhaps I would've been less disappointed at how little the shadows actually affected anything in the story if I hadn't expected them to. I also think digging more into what was going on with the shadows could've heightened the political / socio-economic commentary. As it was, I felt like I was dragging myself through the story more than enjoying it which is such a sad thing to say.

In the aftermath of the 2009 Yongsan Disaster, a Seoul slum marked for demolition witnesses the inexplicable rise of residents' shadows. Electronics-repair-shop duo Eungyo and Mujae, amidst the crumbling landscape, can only watch as their community dissolves, shadow by shadow. The novel dances with understated yet emotional magical realism, exploring futility in a capitalist society. Against the uncaring ruling class and the enigmatic shadows, Eungyo and Mujae find solace in their growing connection, but it may not be enough to fend off the impending shadowscape.

Pros:
🌟 Five stars for this enchanting novella! Lovely prose that's practically magic.

😍 Love the metaphor of the shadows – it's like a poetic language spoken by the characters themselves, leaving you in awe.

📚 Unique format and story – it's as refreshing as a splash of cold water on a hot summer day, with a narrative that dares to step into the shadows of unconventional storytelling.

Cons:
🤷 Honestly, there's no downside to this mesmerizing tale. It's like trying to find a flaw in a moonlit night – you just get lost in the beauty.

Disclaimer: A massive shoutout to NetGalley and the magical wizards at Kensington Books for the bewitching eARC. All opinions are as uniquely mine as the dance moves of the shadows in this captivating novella. 🌌📚

A very solid unique story line. I read this in one setting. So interesting. I look forward to more by this author.

One Hundred Shadows follows Eungyo and Munjae, both working at electronic shops in a poor area of Seoul. The book touches on capitalism, social inequality, the struggles of growing up and living in poverty, mental health, and the importance of companionship in times of hardship. The slow pace in no way makes this an uninteresting book, in the contrary: it makes for a unique experience of reflection, longing, and authenticity that I hadn’t experienced in a really long time.

Although I can see this book could not be for everyone, I absolutely adored it and read it in one sitting. The dialogues that seem so random and irrelevant at the surface, upon deeper thought reveal something deeper about the characters and their world view, which helps us understand what is going on with their shadow. The prose was lyrical and full of symbolisms that nudge the reader into a state of reflection and wonder.

This is one of those books that will stick with me for a long time and I am so amazed at how simple yet impactful it was.

Thank you NetGalley and Kensington Books for providing me with this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

One Hundred Shadows is a short story that comments on the way individuals struggle within a society that prioritises economic development over the working class. The shadows act as a natural way of making poor mental health tangible, and a vehicle for delivering the message of how our interactions with others can affect how they carry themselves through these darker times.

It was an atmospheric read, with the drudgery of living in such a society very well communicated. However, it was very hit and miss with the way some of the ideas were proposed. While some were easy to follow, other anecdotes or patterns of conversation were a lot more difficult to connect to the main storyline. Especially with the way the narrative was written, emphasising the disconnect between the characters and their identity/sense of purpose, it was difficult to be emotionally engaged in the story and so these more abstract concepts needed to be read a couple times over. Despite the heavier subject matter, there was still a small, hopeful tone throughout to highlight that building strong support networks and actively being in the community helps relieve the burden.

Overall, I think it carried out its purpose in condemning gentrification and bringing awareness to the unaddressed high rates of mental illness in South Korea, but for me fell short in creating a lasting emotional impact.

Thank you to Kensington Books and Netgalley for the ARC.

It was a quick, trippy read. A surreal and lyrical fairytale of poverty, gentrification, and erasure.

In a city haunted by creeping shadows, the true horror are the injustices to those stricken with poverty.

Shadows begin to wander from residents of a slum set to be demolished. As the community braces for impact, they cling to each other, fearing both the shadows that tempt them to follow, and the uncertainty of their future.

It’s very clear that the shadows are an allegory for grief and depression. The protagonists Eungyo and Mujae navigate their sad circumstances with these dark feelings around every corner. The ending, although ambiguous, hints at choosing companionship and community, and in taking life one step at a time. I find this book works better as a reflective piece over a thriller novel. Nonetheless, it had a charm to its atmosphere, and a hopeful heartwarming message.

This book contains heavy topics, so read with caution. I’m glad I got to read more about the importance of showing humanity in times stricken with poverty and unjust circumstances. I hope books like this help open doors to educate us on the reality of modern slums and what their residents face.

Thank you to NetGalley and Kensington Books for this ARC.

A short novella exploring the life of an electronics repairer as her life seemingly crumbles around her.

The story meanders through numerous different scenarios, using each to explore a 'meaing of life' style concept. Some are stronger than others, whilst some don't work so well: the dicussion on hair whorls, for example, seems inane. The ruminations of the demolition of old, established buildings and their rusted-on communities are where the novella works best.

There is a horror element running throughout the story, as character's shadows 'rise up' to threaten them as they reach their low points, but I thought that this could been stronger: the shadows kinda stand around being ominous without doing much apart from being a metaphhor.

Some moments of listing items and minutiae that doesn't really serve a purpose, e.g. there's one long paragraph just describing junk in a drawer.

I thought the translation was strong, better than many other translated works I've read.