Twelve apartments, twelve families. An intense application and screening process determined which twelve families would be selected to live in a communal apartment house in rural Korea. This was a government project that was intended to increase the number of babies born in Korea. While it was interesting from a cultural sense there is a lot of redundancy. One example: recycling discussed ad nauseam. Read the book and you'll see what I mean. The story followed four women in the apartments and the cattiness of one of them just wore me out. For me, the plot was an interesting concept but didn't hold my attention. Thankfully, it was short. I am appreciative of the complimentary digital ARC that I received from NetGalley and Hanover Square Press. I am sorry that I cannot leave a better review. This is my own opinion.

This short novel was along the lines of a "slice of life" novel that followed a group of characters, rather than one that is plot-driven. Much in the way that life proceeds while caring for children, life happens, but it's hard to remember any specific event. I would have enjoyed it more if there was some explanation about the point of the communal living building and requiring a commitment to having three children, but that fact was a vague sinister feeling in the background. I really enjoyed Gu Byeong-mo's "Killers of a Certain Age" and felt like Apartment Women fell far short of the intricate plotting found there.

There was a single, casual anti-fat comment made by one character, but it was otherwise weight neutral.

Apartment Women by Gu Byeong-mo is a poignant look into the lives of four mothers living in a government-run communal apartment complex outside Seoul, intended to boost birth rates through community support. Each woman, facing unique challenges, navigates the intense societal pressures on mothers, from career compromises to the struggles of communal living.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this eARC.

Gu Byeong-mo’s Apartment Women is a poignant and incisive exploration of motherhood, societal expectations, and the hidden struggles of women. Set in the experimental Dream Future Pilot Communal Apartments outside Seoul, this novel deftly intertwines the lives of four women, revealing the complexities and pressures they face.

The story centers around Yojin, who moves into the communal apartments with her husband and daughter, seeking a fresh start. The government-run complex promises support for families with at least three children, but the reality is far from idyllic. As Yojin navigates her new environment, she forms connections with three other women, each grappling with their own challenges. The narrative unfolds through their intertwined stories, exposing the unspoken imbalances and societal expectations placed on mothers.

Gu Byeong-mo excels in creating deeply relatable and multifaceted characters. Yojin’s journey is both heart-wrenching and inspiring, as she confronts her past and strives to build a better future for her family. The other women in the complex—each with their own unique struggles and strengths—add richness and depth to the story. Their interactions and evolving relationships highlight the solidarity and resilience that emerge in the face of adversity.

Gu’s prose is both lyrical and sharp, capturing the emotional nuances of her characters’ experiences. The vivid descriptions of the communal apartments and the surrounding environment create a palpable sense of place, immersing readers in the world of the novel. The narrative is skillfully paced, balancing moments of quiet introspection with scenes of intense drama and conflict.

Apartment Women delves into themes of motherhood, community, and the societal pressures that shape women’s lives. The novel challenges the notion that “it takes a village” to raise a child, instead highlighting the often-overlooked labor and sacrifices of mothers. Gu Byeong-mo’s exploration of these themes is both thought-provoking and deeply moving, offering a nuanced perspective on the complexities of family and societal expectations.

Apartment Women is a compelling and thought-provoking novel that shines a light on the hidden struggles of women and the societal pressures they face. Gu Byeong-mo’s masterful storytelling and richly developed characters make this a standout read.

Highly recommended for readers who appreciate character-driven narratives and insightful social commentary.

If you could live free in an apartment building, would you? Sounds great in given the housing crisis facing many of the cities in which we live right? Wrong. What if it was communal living? And your government created a lottery system, which you had to qualify for. You have to be a family with at least one child, with plans for more. At least one member of the family must stay home to help with the communal aspects of the apartment. If you try to leave, the fines will be astronomical. And you can forget about privacy. In case you haven’t gathered from this description, this book is a statement on societies expectations of mothers. The story follows four vastly different women, only alike in the depth of their unhappiness. From the synopsis I expected this read to be right up my alley, in the end it slowly meandered off the rails.

Apartment Women was a deceptively light and easy read that had a lot of hidden depth. I enjoyed the multiple-POV narration as this allowed us to see the characters both as others saw them and from their own perspective. Quite often the reasons behind their actions were misinterpreted by others, which is a good life lesson to bear in mind, as no one else can ever know fully our inner thought processes, so it is easy to be misunderstood and to misunderstand others. The novel painted an interesting picture of life for families (with a focus on the mothers) in modern-day Korea as they struggle to manage both home life and work. It also considered the good points and bad points about apartment living. I am giving it 4 stars. I really enjoyed it, but a part of me wished it could have been a little longer and given us more details on the characters before things concluded.

(This review will go live on Goodreads and my blog at the links below on 11 November, as per your preference to hold reviews until a month prior to release.)

In an experimental apartment complex outside of Seoul, several families with young children try to coexist. The purpose of the experiment is to encourage couples to have more children, but the story certainly doesn't make that seem easy or even desirable. This follows four women who live in the complex and their lives are all at different points.
The story drags in places and TBH the names start to get me confused on who belongs to whom and how they are connected.
I was fascinated by the dynamics of Korean life and the society that exists. The dynamics of the infertility of the nation spurred this experiment and it sound like it could be an interesting story but I just couldn't get into the storytelling. It felt a little flat to me and there weren't any characters that I felt especially interested in.

I think this book suffered from poor expectation setting. The marketing copy makes it sound dystopian and full of big drama, and it's more like a quiet slice-of-life novel with small interpersonal domestic dramas. Especially after reading The Old Woman with the Knife, I expected more thrills and twists than a little sexual tension in the carpool group. But will continue to read more of Gu Byeong-mo's work in the future.

Yojin moves with her family to the "Dream Future Pilot Communal Apartments," in South Korea she has committed to a national goal. She hopes have at least two more children in addition to 6 year old Siyul. The population rate has fallen sharply and it is hoped this new pilot will help bolster numbers (especially to their neighbor in the North).

The community seems to share much, but Yojin feels uneasy and suspects there is an undercurrent of something else. Through the story we meet many other couples and learn about their fears, loves and obstacles. Please note, this is not a thriller!
#harlequintrade #apartmentwomen #gubyeongmo

The book was kind of slow to read but the cultural band socio-economic aspect of a communal apartment was interesting to read about. It was almost overwhelming to read about all the paperwork that went in just to get accepted to live there.

The social media posts and text messages kind of melted in with everything else written which was a bit confusing. The ending was a bit jumbled up and it wasn’t clear where the epilogue started.

It was interesting to read about all these different families that dealt with different situations within their marriage.

The premise of four families living in a communal space as part of a project to fulfill South Korea's societal need to produce more children was so fascinating. I had received this ARC back in February and must have read the description as being more Thriller or speculative fiction. Being new to NetGalley at the time, I was still figuring out how to use the site, my excitement got the best of me and I requested and received books without really checking what the book was. No problem though. I realigned my expectations and dived in.

First off, I hope the finalized published version does something about the formatting because it was disorienting being thrown into a different POV without much indication that a switch had been made. Despite that, I did enjoy being inside the characters’ heads. Their motivations and frustrations were clear to me and I could empathize with their struggles with the role they were trying to fill and what society expects of them. However, in many ways, the execution fell flat for. I wished the plot went somewhere different (maybe even more speculative actually). I was back and forth about the writing style itself, too. It was straightforward which I can appreciate but in combination with the story not going anywhere, it made for a mechanical and almost boring read. Perhaps a translation issue as I saw some reviews point this out too. I wanted to DNF the book a few times but I pushed through. I’m a little frustrated because I can’t in good faith recommend this book to anyone in my life because (like me) they would be expecting more from the plot and I know it wouldn’t be able to deliver.

I was excited to read this book as its premise was very interesting to me. In order to encourage people to have children, the government opens up subsidized housing and offers a community style living situation so that people have a built in village to help.
I don’t know if something was lost in translation or if I am missing subtle parts of this book that would have added meaning. I didn’t find the characters compelling and the book seemed to skip from some tough situations that seemed typical for strangers living together to an ending that seemed extreme and unexpected. The book almost seemed like a murder mystery/cover-up without the excitement of the actual murder. I feel like the idea of this book was better than the execution.

The premise sounded amazing and like a great study on society but in practice this book felt long and difficult to get through. I'd like to think it was partly due to translation, or that I just don't understand the cultural context as much as I am not living in Korea.

Thank you for allowing me to read this book prior to release. I was interested in this book because it was outside of my normal genre of reading. The story was a great look into how another culture functions and how critical family can be. The storyline did not seem to move in any particular direction and did not provide the reader with closure or a sense of completion after reading the story. I wanted more from the characters and from the story.

On the surface Byeong-Mo’s novel is a fictitious social experiment–testing out the ancient practice of communal living with modern amenities. Once deep within its pages, you will quickly realized this book is a statement– one that transcends borders– about the never ending societal expectations placed on mothers, even in the 21st century.

Byeong-Mo compares the lives of the four matriarchs living in the apartments (Seo Yojin, Hong Danhui, Gang Gyowon, and Jo Hyonae) to highlight their different struggles with motherhood. Yojin is the clearest main character and the only mother to work outside of the apartment complex, while her husband Euno stays home with the other wives. Danhui is the quietest of the women, not really appearing or making a fuss until the very end of the book. (Her husband, however, is another story.) Gyowon is what some may consider the perfect housewife, constantly cooking, cleaning, and finding the best bargains on resale pages on the Internet. She has the least shame out of the four women, while also being the judgiest of the bunch. Hyonae, a freelance children’s book illustrator is learning to balance the life of being a new mother and a career woman, while being thrust into this very unique living situation.

The four woman in this novel are vastly different, but in the end all equally unhappy. Each is faced with a unique shame, guilt, or doubt that they try to contain like a secret. But, living with the many eyes of their neighbors on them creates a metaphorical pressure cooker of judgment that causes each woman to implode in her own way and, by the last page of the novel, only one woman is left standing.

I can honestly say, I was hesitant about this book at the start, but it quickly became a beautiful exploration of the unrealistic expectations women have carried for generations.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for allowing me to read and review this ARC.

This is the story of four families living together in a government-run apartment complex outside Seoul. The process to get into the complex is competitive; ultimately the complex will house four families. The complex is experimental—the families agree to have and raise multiple living in this communal living space. The story centers on the experience of the four women, four mothers, in these families. Who ultimately bears the burden of the communal living? Spoiler alert: it’s the ladies. The story is a quiet but deep look at the interior lives of the women. It’s a quick read but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to know these women and their troubles.

I often wonder what would happen if we changed how we lived with others. Suppose we intentionally interacted and lived with our neighbors, who were deeply entwined in their lives and allowed them into ours. Well, Gu Byeong-mo reminds us it will be exceedingly messy.

Apartment Women zooms in on four families that enter a pilot communal apartment meant to encourage families to have larger families and build community. Quickly, we see what happens when very different people with differing opinions on how to do family and spouses that don't truly talk end up. This book describes the plight of motherhood and, even more specifically, womanhood. And by the end, you question if a large communal backyard table is worth being the main focal piece of the backyard.

It is easy to want to romanticize everything, but community is complex, and Byeong-mo reminds us that sometimes, the mess behind closed doors will impact the whole apartment. However, I think there is a way to do community well, but maybe not as a government-funded apartment that leads to three kids and cheaper rent. As enticing as affordable living spaces are.

This took me so long to read such a short book. I kept picking it up and putting it down.
Maybe it was the layout of the book or perhaps the translation, but I felt at times it was difficult to read. At times, it seemed characters melded into each other. I’d have to reread sections because characters would switch up. I’d be reading one characters pov then in the switch of a paragraph, I’d be reading another pov.
The book got interesting in the last ¼ of the novel…but even then, I was truly not that invested. I do keep thinking about the characters, which I always attribute to great books, but the effort to get to the end was not what I was thinking it would be.

Thank you to Hanover Square Press and Netgalley for the Advanced Reader Copy.

A decent short read. On one hand, I'm not sure I understand what I was supposed to get out of the book. There's some social commentary on the unseen labor that the women are putting into their relationships and the burdens they're carrying on their shoulders. There's also some commentary on the government housing project and how it forces a community upon these different couples. But in the end, I didn't know what I really got out of it.

I do think that Gu Byeong-mo did a great job of slowly building the tension and setting up these personalities meticulously. In particular, Yojin's inner monologues were often deeply relatable. The struggles that each woman faced in their particular situation was well-articulated. The weaponized incompetence was so real that I could feel myself getting more and more frustrated as I read.

I didn't mind the translation so much, but I do think the flow between stories was sometimes not that smooth. It's unclear whether or not that's related to the original text or the translation.

Received a free copy from Netgalley.

What a delightful, wry, and delicate read Apartment Women is! Gu Byeong-mo spun a masterful tale about the life of one small precarious community. The story is set in a poorly planned and designed government-sponsored project. It is meant to make people’s lives better (in theory), but as it often happens, the execution did not fit the idea, As such, something that is supposed to improve the quality of life of the residents becomes a backdrop to the farce that is apartment living.
While following the lives of the families throughout the book, I couldn’t help but get drawn right into the heart of their lives and feelings, At some point in the book I am Yojin, I am Danhui, I am Gyowon, I am Hyonae. I want to be a perfect mother who feeds her kids organic foods and buys them sustainably produced toys, I want to be warm and welcoming and polite, I want to be a team player and a good cook, and I want to be left alone and not be drawn into the forced sense of community, I want to be a part of something bigger, but not at the expense of my own identity. I weep at the universal truth of the hardships of motherhood, a womanhood, and a neighborhood. This unique little story will stick with me for a while.