I chose to read this author because of an excerpt from her previous book, used in a writing workshop. Another interesting aprt of it was the translation. I am learnign Japanese, so translations are on my radar now. The language is beautiful engaging. The subject is not easy for me to read.

Thank you to Hogarth and NetGalley for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Han Kang’s newest novel, We Do Not Part, follows two women, Kyungha and Inseon, and their friendship. When Inseon is sent to Seoul to be hospitalized, she tasks Kyungha with helping her save her pet bird back in her home in Jeju.
Kang’s latest work is filled with imagery of snow and shadows which accompany the narrative’s retrospective writing. The plot explores different points of Korean history such as the Korean War, the Japanese occupation, and the Jeju uprising (Jeju April 3 incident), highlighting the difficulty of revisiting traumatic events. The narrative is informative and introduces readers to Korean history through fiction. Likewise, Paige Aniyah Morris and e. yaewon provide a compelling English translation of Kang’s prose.

In my experience with Kang’s work, we start with a melancholy unease that develops into a darker unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. The cause is elusive - is it the prose? The subject matter? The atmosphere? In this case, it’s all three. I read We Do Not Part over a week and a half, and was feeling oddly detached and confused by it for the first 50% of the novel. We follow our main character as she lets us in to her isolated, depressed days, soon disrupted by an urgent favour for an old friend. I can tell that Kang was carefully building up to facing the tragic history of the Jeju uprising, but reading this book in fragments made it difficult for me to see, much less appreciate, the big picture. The second half of the novel, Kang plunges us into the heaviness of “remembering”, the legacy of trauma that is passed on through blood and bone, the fallibility of parents that lived through our worst imaginings. I need to revisit this work, as I can imagine devoting time to reading it with more continuity would made it hit even harder. Despite my elongated read, I still found it moving, heartbreaking, and eerie. Recommended to those that have read Kang’s work or folks that are intrigued by the way land holds memories and tragedy can’t be forgotten if it is passed on.

This is Han Kang at her best; if you like the way she explores abstract concepts with imagery and embodiment, you will like this as well. It is a more experimental style, so it will not be for everyone.

Between 1948 and 1950 an estimated 30,000 inhabitants of the small Korean island of Jeju were murdered as part of a scorched earth policy to eradicate presumed Communist rebels on the island. Entire villages within an established perimeter were burnt down and men, women and children executed on beaches and in caves.

For decades, the government-led massacre was swept under the carpet, but since the early 2000s a truth commission has carried out an independent investigation and the horrible facts have been documented and brought to light.

Han Kang takes on the difficult task of fictionalising the 'Jeju massacre', and she pulls it off. 'We Do Not Part' is not a historical novel though, it retains Han Kang's unique style, playing with dreams and supernatural elements and also the vivid descriptions of excruciating pain and cruelty.

As in The Vegetarian and Human Acts we have a female protagonist, Kyungha, unable to cope with the demands of normal life. One day, Kyungha receives a call from her artist friend, Inseon, who needs her help urgently - she has sown off her fingers. The second half of the novel is more engaged, as it largely describes the massacre by way of presentating the research carried out by Inseon and discovered by Kyungha.

I found it really beautifully done - the snowy, dreamlike island with its silent secrets and the friendship between the two women struggling to find a way to recover and remember.

Much of this book read like a fever dream and this approach to exploring memory and legacies left me a little confused at parts. It's a style that will draw some in, but repel others. It left me more curious about the history of Jeju, which I have encountered more in other novels that center the haenyo.

This book is so many things. It’s a fever dream about friendship and also about how trauma from a previous generation can still haunt you today.

It opens with Kyungha, who is left in a deep, debilitating depression from the last book that she wrote. As she is coming out of it and starting to resume life, she gets a text from her friend, Inseon. Kyungha flies out to join her in Seoul, where she has been hospitalized for an accident. Unable to go herself Inseon asks that Kyungha goes to her home in Jeju to rescue her bird, who has been left without someone to care for it in her absence. As Kyungha makes the journey to save the bird, she struggles to survive the heavy snowfall as day turns into a very cold night. When she makes her way to the house, she is confronted with the story of Inseon’s family as told by second hand memories from her mother about the Jeju massacre.

The writing is absolutely captivating. The imagery and atmosphere are so immersive that it invokes sensation throughout my entire body. It really brought the story alive in a way that I haven’t experienced before. The way that the past and present are connected throughout the book is an art form. This seems like a book you get more and more from with each time you read it.

I loved The Vegetarian. This one didn’t work for me, the narration style was difficult for me to connect with.

I’m torn. The prose of course is unparalleled. She is one of the authors that I have exclaimed as prosey. Yep, when you have exhausted all the great adjectives to describe prose, you realize some authors are just prosey. And Han Kang fits the bill. She had me rooting for a bird! A bird!

When Kyungha is sent by her friend Inseon to go rescue her pet bird, I was riveted by the prose, and so became easily invested in the bird’s survival. When Kyungha arrives to the island home of her friend, it is during a snow storm. And the way Han Kang describes snow and individual snow flakes is simply bedazzling.

So, will she make it to the home in time to save this little bird? The story gets kicked up a notch as readers are taken into a little South Korean history of a past massacre that happened near Inseon’s home. And the dialogue gets a bit tricky, but that prose will literally have you not caring one bit about the bewildering exchanges. If bewilderment causes you angst, I say fight through the….well, bewilderment. The battle will be more than worth the effort. By winning that battle you’ll be rewarded with the happiness that comes from conquering a great work of literature.

A great big thanks to Hogarth Publishers and Netgalley for an advanced DRC. Book drops in January 2025.

Plagued by horrible nightmares of death and dying, Kyungha has slowly found herself alone and contemplating her own death. After eating her only meal for the day, Kyngha receives a message from an old friend, “Kyungha-ya” then, “Can you come right away?”

Inseon and Kyungha met in their twenties, and what started as a professional relationship blossomed into a friendship spanning decades. After Inseon was injured and found unresponsive, she was flown to the hospital. After she awakens from her surgery she reaches out to the only one left in her life, Kyungha for her help.

This novel spans a friendship and what two women will do for each other. It is riddled with nightmares and ghosts from the women’s past.

Suggestions and concerns:

I would have loved for the opening scene/nightmare to have more detail. This grabbed my attention immediately but it was too short. I believe the author could enhance this section. Actually all the nightmares should be enhanced not just a couple of sentences or paragraphs. It is linked to Kyungha’s state of mind.

The lack of quotation marks was very distracting and confusing especially when 2 or more people are talking at the same time. And why use italics at some points and not others?

Indentation is not consistent. Nor is spacing between paragraphs.

I believe this was written in Korean but the translation needs to be revised as some words did not translate correctly or aren’t easily understood. An example she didn’t cut her fingers off with and ax, she did it with a saw.

The times between meeting was also confusing. I honestly did not realize it was a year since Kyungha has seen Inseon until I read the book description.

Most points of the story use Korean terms such as Halmoni for grandmother, budgie for parakeet, carer for caregiver or nurse, juk shop for rice shop/restaurant, but used the British Mum for mother and grandum for grandmother, and grandmother, grandchild, etc. Using the British mum and grandmum took part of the Korean scenerio away from the book. Later, nurse was used instead of carer. Needs consistency.

Another portion where she is writing about the cousin she calls her niece unni- does the author mean niece big sister?

I also do not like that the author switched the speaker with no warning or informing us that she was doing that-very confusing. This happened many times and I had to reread the paragraph
The author switching between past and present is off putting and hard to follow. At some points it is in the same paragraph writing about the past and preset.

A town named P- needs to be filled in.


Pg 33/180-piece should be peace “I see,” Inseon answered when I had said my peace.


Pg 34/180-what should be what’s “Were they doing so regularly enough? What’s with the constant bleeding?

Pg 44/180-"as" should be "at"- home exists at a precise…


I stopped at this point due to confusion and lack of interest. At this time I will not post a review. I would love to revisit this book after the editing has been corrected. I do not feel it is ready to be published. I appreciated the story's plot and feel its a story to be told.

Having enormous respect for Han Kang, the Korean born author, I’m a devoted reader of her work.
Kang was born in 1970… the year I graduated from High School.
Her books have the power to produce deep emotion.
I’ve read:
“The Vegetarian” (Winner of the International Booker)
“Human Acts”
“The White Book”
“Greek Lessons”
…..and now
“We Do Not Part”

***All of Han Kang’s books are brilliant***

Note ….
…..(sweet sharing)….
Hang Kang’s earliest memory (taken from an interview in ‘The Guardian’ years ago):
“When I was a child, my father, a young and poor novelist, kept our unfurnished house packed with books. A deluge spilled out from the shelves, covering the floor in disorderly towers like a secondhand bookstore where the organizing had been put off forever. To me, books were half living beings that constantly multiplied and expanded their boundaries. Despite the frequent moves, I could feel at ease thanks to all those books protecting me. Before I made friends in a strange neighborhood, I had my books with me every afternoon”.

There are a few well-known historical figures mentioned in “We Do Not Part” —but this is a fiction novel.
The novel is divided into three parts.
Part 1 Bird
Part 2 Night
Part 3 Flame
A little back history (taken from Google)
“On April 3, 1948, on the Korean island of Jeju, communist guerrillas went on a rampage, killing police officers, election workers; and others; setting houses on fire; terrorizing villagers, all to discourage them from voting in the upcoming May 10 elections that would establish the Republic of Korea.
Up to 30,000 civilians lost their lives. those who survived were branded traitors and communists”.

How does one write about a massacre?
Note ….
….. I’ve been deep in thought about “We Do Not Part” for weeks. I read the 272 pages S L O W L Y ….with my whole body and soul…..a book I’ll think about for a long time.
In a ‘Lit Hub’ article of Feb. 2016, (in conversation with Bethanne Patrick), Han Kang shared about Violence, Beauty, and the (Im)possibility of Innocence …..
The article resonated with me …. because Han Kang and her books resonates with me.
“We Do Not Part” is a significant novel.
It’s emotionally wrenching, intellectually rigorous, with indelible characters, and one of the most passionate vindications of the written word I’ve read in years!!!
“We Do Not Part” had me gripping my blanket tightly …..and it literally took my breath away . . .
> soooo >
I was looking for — wanting more of Han Kang …..
…..wishing to engage ‘with’ her as much as possible.
In the article ‘ Lit Hub’ ….Han Kang said this:
(after writing “The Vegetarian”)… which applies to all her work in my opinion….
“I think this novel has some layers: questioning human violence, and the (im)possibility of innocence; defining sanity, and madness; the (im)possibility of understanding others, body as the last refuge or the last determination, and some more. It will be inevitable that different aspects are more focused on by different readers and cultural backgrounds. If I could say one thing, this novel isn’t a singular indictment of Korean patriarchy. I wanted to deal with my long lasting questions about possibility/impossibility of innocence in this world, which is mingled with such violence and beauty. These were universal questions that occupied me as I wrote it”.

More about “We Do Not Part” ….
I must wholeheartedly give special recognition to the person who wrote the blurb. It says just enough — and not too much at the same time ….. It’s perfect!
but forgive me ….I’m still going to say a little more….
I’m going to share some excerpts (they will be taken out of context in order to avoid spoilers) —but they speak to me ….

There are a few well-known historical figures mentioned in “We Do Not Part” —but this is a fiction novel.
Jetsu Island is one of the two special self-governing provinces in South Korea….meaning that the province is run by local politicians.
The people are indigenous to the island, and it has been populated by modern human since the early Neolithic period.
There is dark history (of which I knew nothing about)….that I slowly began to learn from this book.

Han Kang very uniquely and very intimately raised my personal interest in the Jetsu massacre ….not with dry facts….(we could look up specific details ourselves > as I did)…..
Instead she explores a friendship ….a friendship between two women: Kyungha (a writer) and Inseon (a documentarian filmmaker).

In “We Do Not Part”….
There is tragedy, loneliness, grief, starvation, injury, dreams, nightmares, memories, past family history, sensory chilling scenes, “a coping saw beneath the mattress”,
darkness, trembling, shivering, harsh winters, seawater pushing through black trees, endless snow, personal matters that thwarted plans between Kyungha and Inseon, a bus ride during a blizzard snowstorm, more heartbreak, more remarkable storytelling, more remarkable writing…..
…..and for me there was a heavy ‘tiredness-experience’ in my body …..as often the story felt incomprehensible, perplexing, cryptic, …..
…..at the same time, it’s one of the best books — [meaningful, affecting, and engrossing] I’ve read this year.

***Magnificent crafted with stunning and agonizing prose***

Inseon had an urgent favor to ask Kyungha. Close to an impossible favor. In there twenty years of friendship, (they hadn’t seen each other in a year), Inseon had never once asked her for an unreasonable favor.
Inseon’s bird, Ama, needed saving.
Kyungha knew that Inseon didn’t have a lot of friends, but it hadn’t occurred to Kyungha that she would be the person — the only person — that must carry out Inseon’s request - an impossible favor.
“This past summer, when I consider to whom my last wishes might be addressed, Inseon hadn’t crossed my mind. Her being relatively far away, likely had a lot to do with this. And I’d had no wish to burden Inseon again after the four years she spent caring for her ailing mother and then sitting vigil with her in her final moments. But even if it was true that Inseon had distanced herself from me during that period and I’d had my own trials, couldn’t I have made more of an effort? After all, the island was only an hour’s flight away, if that. Surely, I could have thought of something, something other than letting her drift out of reach?”.

A couple more excepts:
“Here, where the road was barely wide enough for a small car to pass through, the snow came up to my knees. I had to plunge my legs in, then pull them back up to walk through the snowdrifts, which took time. My trainers and socks were drenched”.

“I rub my eyes to see what I’m doing, and realize
something’s oozing from my eyes. I carelessly wipe my hand, now covered in the sticky discharge as well as blood from my earlier run in with the bush in the woods, on the front of my coat. Stinging viscous tears well up again and gum up the wound.
I don’t know why. Ama wasn’t my bird. I didn’t care enough, let alone love her to be feeling such grief”.

Extraordinary and powerful!
I can’t say it any better that Katie Kitamura (author of Intimacies) did:
“A visionary novel about history, trauma, art, and its tremendous cost. Han Kang is one of the most powerfully gifted writers in the world. With each work, she transforms her readers, and rewrites the possibilities of the novel as a form”.

Another fantastic book from Han Kang. It's about grappling with the grief and trauma of a past generation, as well as the importance of remembering past atrocities. As uncomfortable as it gets, it's the least we can do for the victims and their loved ones. The writing is atmospheric and contains striking imagery; I struggled with how surreal it gets at times. Initially, I had mixed feelings about how the narrative is structured. However, had the Jeju Massacre anecdotes been interwoven into the present-day story, it would not have the same emotional impact. Devastating, poignant, and unforgettable. One of my favorite reads of the year.

Everytime I read a book by Han Kang I get lost in the imagery she uses, it's very dreamlike and surreal. We Do Not Part is consistent with that. If you enjoyed Human Acts by Han Kang, I think you will enjoy this one, too. She explores the bonds of friendship but also a dark part of history that many people don't know about. It's tied together with some dark history in other places at a similar time in history, through her friend's documentary series (that I wish I could really watch). The second half of this book was confusing and had me questioning a lot of things, but also it was incredibly engaging and hard to put down. Even though I finished it a week ago and loved it, I'm still thinking about it. I hope to buy a physical copy of this when it's released.

Thank you @netgalley for the ARC of We So Not Part. I loved The Vegetarian by Han Kang so I was excited to read this book by her. The writing is gorgeous, but the story fell a little flat for me. I enjoyed the start and the story of Inseon’s family is horrible, but I think I would have liked either more story about the two friends or a complete story about the family.

Kyungha is called to Seoul by her friend Inseon when she injure herself woodchopping. She must get back to her house to care for Inseon’s pet bird. Through the book, the story of Inseon’s family is revealed about a massacre on the island.

This is a heart wrenching novel. It was a hard but important book to read. I had to pause at times and take a breather. This was a beautifully written book, and I’m glad I read it.

Beautifully written and heartbreaking story of the after effects of the trauma from those that survived genocide during the Korean War. Hard to read at times, but important.

We Do Not Part
by Han Kang
Translated from Korean by e. yaewon and Paige Aniyah Morris
Genre: Literary Fiction
Sub-genre: Historical Fiction
Pages: 272
Rating: 4.5/5
To be published: 21st January, 2025

Even a splintered match stick will burst into light if we swipe its tip against the striking surface with the right force. To me, this is the moral hidden in We Do Not Part.

What we see in the light of the flame depends on us. In that flame, we may see a dear friend, we may see our lost history, we may see ourselves, or we may see everything intertwined together such that parting is not possible. We Do Not Part.

Kyungha and Inseon are friends who do not part, in life and even under the threat of death. The friendship between these two women—one writes and other other makes documentaries—is the emotional setting of this novel, and throughout, this friendship steers the novel into light and darkness

Inseon lives in Jeju, and through Inseon's eyes and soul which reflects the buried memories of Inseon's mother, Kyungha, and thus the readers of this novel, trace the traumatic and buried Korean history of the 1948 Jeju Massacre and following events, which led to the barbaric killing of about 30,000 Jeju islanders.

The exhumation of the Jeju international airport from 2006 to 2010 (project stalled due to lack of budget) unearthed around 400 bodies of people, mostly civilians who were grouped and shot to death in rows of 10, one after another, irrespective of gender and age. Similar shootings took place in mining sites and by the sea, and in the fields.

Like the buried bodies under the airport and in the sea and the mining sites, in We Do Not Part, history remains buried in the lost memory of Inseon's mother, who had lost her brother and sister in the Yeosu-Suncheon rebellion.

We Do Not Part talks about this buried history. But We Do Not Part is much more than a historical fiction in its scope and execution. In its simplest form, it is poetry, metaphors and motifs.

In its deeper exploration, it is an account of intergenerational trauma that has been passed on, sometimes unbeknownst, and which will surface, sometimes as art, sometimes as dreams, sometimes as ghosts and sometimes as a flickering flame.

In its deepest bidding, We Do Not Part is a call to remember and honour our history and memories.

The half-burnt candle in Inseon's hand, as it cast light in the darkness was a metaphor that did such brilliant justice to the subject of the novel. It is simple, yet so apt!

At this point, Han Kang is already known for the intelligence with which she stitches together her plot. Yet, how a certain action, with it own isolated identity, reappear in the plot under the guise or identity of another action, and later at the end of the novel, reveals itself as a motif and a promise, holding together the essence of the entire novel, steals my breath away! I won't elaborate on this as I want readers to discover this themselves and then bask in its brilliance.

Two birds, Ama and Ami, flutter in this novel.

In this novel, snow falls.

Dreams and our desires can take us to a time and space, where nothing is impossible, and everything is real.

Even if birds do not flutter, even if the snow keeps falling, even when darkness lasts longer and even if we lose sense of dream and reality, still, with our essence, We Do Not Part.

In We Do Not Part, we see glimpses of a novel and some documentaries written and created by Kyungha and Inseon respectively.

In some alternate reality, I have read that novel and seen those documentaries, and that I feel so is because of the brilliance of Han Kang and the power of her words. Even the most abstract scene in this novel (I use the word 'scene' because We Do Not Part is very sensory—I saw the snow, tasted the tea, touched the cold skin, heard the birds and smelled the deaths in the excavation sites) finally leads to something very solid in the plot. When readers land upon these firm grounds, they will exclaim with joy at the brilliance of the novel, but maybe a tear will also seep through their eyes. This book made me feel so much that often I had to take breaks in-between reading, and process the emotions in the pages, as they took turns in my heart. The 272 pages felt like 500 pages at least, and took as much reading time as well.

The history in the novel is seen only in vignettes, probably because exposure to all of it in one go in one novel may be unbearable to many readers. Those who want to know more can easily access more details from the internet. Despite the dark history it is seeped in, We Do Not Part is a story of light.

Translating a book like We Do Not Part from Korean to English, with such a bouquet of nuances in it, is no easy job. My heartfelt gratitude to the courage and hard work of translators, e. yaewon and Paige Aniyah Morris for bringing this book to global readers. I will definitely explore more translations by them.

The other three books of Han Kang I have read (in English)—The Vegetarian, The White Book and Greek Lessons, felt closer to the Korean undertone while We Do Not Part felt more 'international'. I wonder if this is due to a change in Han Kang's writing style or due to the translation. These other three books are translated by Deborah Smith, with Greek Lessons co-translated by e. yaewon. This impression comes from reading other novels translated from Korean, and watching Korean content with subtitles.

This was a 5/5 reading for me, but I will rate it 4.5/5, rounded to 5, without wanting to change even a single bit of the book. Every brilliant body casts a shadow; the shadow of We Do Not Part lies in the way the novel begins, keeping readers unsure of what is happening. As a Han Kang fan, it worked for me, because I have complete trust in the author to know that the book will not be lost in dreams and strangeness. But for some new readers of Kang, this maybe concerning. I expect some readers to get lost in the first quarter of the book, and some later too. Yet, this is the perfect beginning, perfect everything for this novel. That's why I call this the shadow of a bright, brilliant book.

My immense thanks to NetGalley and Random House (Hogarth) for giving me this unexpected opportunity to read an ARC of this novel. However, my gratitude is not a part of the review, and every opinion expressed in this review is honest. Of course this review is influenced by the fact that I am a Han Kang fan, but I am her fan because I love how she infuses brilliance and intelligence to the craft of writing, which is again so evident in We Do Not Part.


Q: Do I recommend We Do Not Part by Han Kang to my fellow readers?
A: Absolutely, absolutely; provided you enjoy literary fiction.

A heartwrenching tale of love between two women in Seoul, we follow the lives of Kyungha as she receives a message from her dear friend. They haven't seen each other in over a year, and this is the tale of what led up to that separation as the friend is now bedridden. The story looks into that friendships mean, how perception of society can rip them apart, and the conviction needed to stay together.