Khongya is living an unhappy and isolated life, seemingly after a breakdown triggered by research for her work as a writer. She is summoned to the hospital bed of an old friend, Inseon, and sent by her to her island home on a mission. Once there, reality, fantasy, dreams , death, trauma and history all begin to blur..
What to make of this novel? Han Kang is an astonishing writer. She adds layers and loops of themes and ideas. Sometimes you don’t really know what’s going on and yet you want to keep reading. I particularly enjoyed the first half of the book, and Khungya’s epic journey through the snow to Inseon’s cabin was totally gripping. Towards the end I feel I lost my way a little due to unfamiliarity with the historical events and locations that come to the forefront. Very interesting novel however and I am glad to have read it. Have ordered Greek Lessons to see how it compares.

" I remember.... everyone who's ever suffered similar fates regardless pf place....
Hit with bullets.
Hit with cudgels.
Lives severed by blades.
How agonizing it must have been"
A harrowing story.
Story about Jeju island on April 3rd Massacre.

‘We Do Not Part’ by Han Kang follows a journey of friendship in a beautifully crafted prose. Kang has a way of writing language that is poetic and yet, wholly involved in telling a clear narrative with striking themes that make you think for a long time past closing the book.
Kang presents the true intimacy of relationships in a raw form. Our vivid outlook into the Kyungha’s mind bares the relationship down to its boundaries and shows us the turbulences throughout her life. This only enhances our outlook on the narrative and creates a sense of welling emotion at the hospitalisation of her friend.
The setting is cold and bitter. It is not a great read for the summer but is wonderful for a cold and brutal day like I read it on.
Thank you to #netgalley for this DRC of #wedonotpart.

The core narrative of this much-acclaimed novel is compelling enough. The narrator Kyungha has decided to end her seemingly pointless life and is thinking about her will. She no longer fears death and is overwhelmed by the cruelty of the world. The she gets a phone call from her friend Inseon who is in hospital, having suffered a gruesome accident, and is undergoing equally gruesome treatment – described in some detail. I’m not sure just why this is dwelt on so much as it adds little to the narrative. Inseon asks Kyungha to go to her home on Jeju Island to rescue her pet parrots, who will surely starve without her. A storm is brewing but Kyungha decides to do as her friend bids her. Her journey is a difficult and dangerous one as the threatened snowstorm rages. Once there the narrative shifts to a description of the 1948 Jeju massacre, a truly terrible event when over 30,000 citizens were killed by South Korean forces in a murderous attack against supposed communist sympathisers. I had to look this up, as I expect many readers will have to, and while the facts are still disputed, there’s no doubt it was a truly horrific massacre. So the personal narrative is merged with real events, and Kyungha’s quest becomes more and more dreamlike, and for me, confusing. On her impossible journey Kyungha seems to be accompanied by Inseon, who is simultaneously in hospital In Seoul. So is she a ghost? This surreal element didn’t sit comfortably with me, nor did the fact that at one point Kyungha buries one of the parrots, who suddenly reappears. I found the whole unsatisfactory although some of the parts were compelling enough. And Kyungha’s descriptions of her migraine attacks are the best I’ve ever read. But that’s a side issue and overall I found the novel slow-paced, hard to get into and then to stay invested in. Not one for me.

I really enjoyed the translation of this. There is a wonderful atmosphere to this book, the dreamlike qualities reflecting the fractured memories and hidden past of the tragic moments explored. The repetitive imagery of snow linking the past to the present, and of continual violence, were so well done. I felt so uncomfortable about the treatment for her friends hand, the way she could not sleep with the pin sharp pain of it was so softly woven with the pain of history keeping the people of Jeju awake though they don't speak of it. I loved Han's use of ghosts and liminality, never quite letting us know what was real, except when it came to the past, when any ephemerality hardened into the facts laid out in the light of day. It did get somewhat relentless towards the end, a jarring change of pace compared to the rest of the book. I get why it was done, but it was hard to read.

fantastic writing as always, but i have to admit that i found myself bored at times -- maybe because of the long wandering (albeit beautiful) prose, or maybe just because i wasn't that invested in the plot, unfortunately.

A lyrical and exquisite exploration of atrocities in South Korea. This novel was just beautiful with a dreamlike quality. The novel explores the massacre which occurred on an island off the coast of South Korea through the friendship of two women and the efforts of those who are left behind to discover those they lost. The author’s writing is deceptively simple and the images she paints will haunt me. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC of this novel in return for an honest review.

Firstly, this book deserved more than I gave it. It deserved absolute dedication and attention even when I couldn’t stomach to pick up my iPad and open Netgalley.
Even so, Han Kang’s latest novel serves as a haunting look into generation trauma and the bonds we form and hold onto as broken, imperfect people that utterly destroyed me. Having only read The Vegetarian by Kang before, I felt like I was diving into the deep end when I picked up this book. I thought I should have made the effort to read her two other novels, ‘Human Acts’ and ‘Greek Lessons’, before steamrolling into her latest. Kang threw my fears and hesitation out the window quickly, lifting me up and tossing me into a snowy wasteland alongside Kyungha as the undercurrent of a bloodstained history was dug up around us.
This novel hits hard and takes it’s time doing it. But that is what makes it brilliant; rather than tear through the revelation and rip us through it like a bandaid, Kang takes our hands and guides us through the door, carefully displaying the bodies and emotions that surround her novel.
I will revisit this novel in time, once I feel ready to tackle it under better circumstances. But for now, all I can say is that I loved it, and you should read it.

Han's *We Do Not Part* is a poetic and haunting exploration of the Jeju 4.3 massacre, using delicate yet austere prose to depict intergenerational trauma, loss, and the struggle for remembrance. Through shifting imagery—snow as both concealment and disappearance, and bloody fingers as a symbol of pain, love, and memorialisation—Han crafts a deeply layered narrative that not only commemorates a historical atrocity but also reflects on humanity’s cyclical violence with an artistry that resists complete despair.

“We Do Not Part” – Han Kang (translated from Korean by E. Yaewon and Paige Aniyah Morris)

My thanks to @penguinhamishhamilton and @netgalley for my copy of this book in exchange for a review.

“...people walked past the window in bodies that looked fragile enough to shatter. Life was exceedingly vulnerable, I realized. The flesh, organs, bones, breaths passing before my eyes all held within them the potential to snap, to cease - so easily, and by a single decision”

On a freezing day in December, Kyungha wanders through a blistering snowstorm on Jeju Island. She has been suffering from insomnia, depression and unbearable nightmares, including a recurring one where the sea rises and engulfs a valley of black tree trunks. A message from an injured friend, Inseon, has convinced her to go to Jeju to care for her bird, and it seems that Kyungha doesn’t have the strength to refuse.

However, the island is a place of trauma for both the characters and Korea itself. It was the site of a brutal massacre beginning in 1948 by right-wing and government forces, who burned villages and drove villagers into camps, eventually leading to the deaths of up to 1/5 of the island. This event has affected Hyangyu, who has previously written a book on the events, and Inseon, who is a native of the island.

What emerges is a dreamlike novel filled with beautiful imagery and sickening facts, a swirling mix of narrative histories and mysteries, one where I felt constantly on edge as I began to (reasonably) question Kyungha’s mental state. It was deliberately unclear on what plain of reality this book resided when it came to her, but it was made forcibly clear when the book goes into the grotesque realities of the massacre and its effect on individuals, society, and even art.

This book was a bit too unclear for me in my present reading state, but I felt this was the best Kang book I’ve read, above “The Vegetarian” and “Greek Lessons”. It’s not a book to take lightly or breeze through, but stick with it!

‘We Do Not Part’ by Han Kang (translated by E. Yeawon and Paige Aniyah Morris) peels back the layers of generational trauma in a delicate excavation of hidden histories of the characters, the community and the nation.

Kang doesn’t really focus on a chain of events; the novel is more of an exploration of the psychological and physical states of Kyungha, and her friend Inseon, than plot-driven. Kyungha’s journey is ethereal and takes place somewhere both different and familiar to her like a dreamworld version of a place she’s been to before. It is in this place that the two friends are able to discuss the Jeju Massacre and South Korea’s long silence about it.

Kang’s writing is beautiful and evocative. Her use of imagery is both simple and complex and the uncovering of South Korea’s past evokes the style of artistic documentaries that the character Inseon creates. The descriptions of extreme weather and physical pain are both representative of the trauma felt by victims of violence, but also create a sensory, rather than intellectual, connection to the horrific events that took place on Jeju Island.

The dreamlike quality of Kang’s writing, and the focus on the characters’ relationships with each other, and the massacre, means the pace is very slow. However, I think this is representative of the slow process of coming to terms with tragedy and being able to speak about it without fearing you’ll burden the listener.

Overall, I really appreciated the quality of writing and the handling of themes, there just wasn’t enough plot for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin for allowing me to read the eArc in exchange for an honest review.

Han Kangs writing never fails to pull me in. It's so vivid, packed with emotion and really makes you think.
This book is no exception to the other ones I've read from her. Just as compelling, although probably an easier entry point into her writing than other books like The Vegetarian. This book tackles difficult topics, but in a perhaps more widely approachable way.

Truly a stunning book.

I haven't read any of Han Kang's work before. And to say that I didn't immediately run to the bookshop to purchase every other book would be an understatement. Book tastes are so subjective, but I now understand why Han Kang's name alone comes attached with such critical acclaim.

In a long, and cold winter, Kyungha is found at her friend, Inseon's, hospital bedside. With Insteon unable to leave her bed, Kyungha accepts the task of flying home to feed and care for Inseon's bird. However, it isn't all that simple. As soon as Kyungha arrives, Jeju Island is hit by a snowstorm. She is now stuck with the task of ensuring she makes it to the bird in time .

Through her journey to care for Inseon's pet bird, in a hazy dream-like sequence, Inseon's deep-rooted family history is revealed, documenting the horrors of the Jeju Island massacre of 30,000 civilians.

In 'We Do Not Part', I have noticed just how people oriented Han Kang's writing style is. Her work is driven by the characters, and I couldn't help but have the characters emotions so deeply replicated off the page within myself. Han Kang manages to masterfully write such an intricately haunting novel, allowing the reader to sit and wallow in the truth of history.

“How does one endure it?
Without a fire raging in one’s chest.
Without a you to return to and embrace.”

'I had not reconciled with life, but I had to resume living'

Although this book combines the strangeness and magical realism of 'The Vegetarian' and the historical and emotional rawness of 'Human Acts', this just did not feel like Han Kang's usual writing that I've come to love (granted I've only read the two books). Whilst her writing usually goes down the 'simple but powerful' route and feels effortlessly beautiful, the writing here almost felt like she was trying too hard and it quickly became quite convoluted and repetitive.

This book also felt a lot longer than the other two I've read, partly due to the writing but also because it was quite a slow paced novel. I didn't mind this as much at first but it did eventually become more difficult to keep interest. Finally, the first half and second half felt like two completely books, with the second half veering down an almost non-fiction route. Whilst I can see why due to the subject matter, the non-fiction style meant I felt less emotionally impacted than say 'Human Acts'.

There were still some moments that I really liked and I can see why some may enjoy this book, but unfortunately for me I was left slightly disappointed.

The story is first set in South Korea and follows a woman whose friend is admitted to hospital.She agrees to go to a distant rural island where her friend lives to feed her captive bird .The island when she arrives is covered in a deep snowfall and she ends up being stranded .
There is a strong dreamlike element to the story and a blending of magic and reality adds to the dream like or nightmarish quality to the story
There is discussion of a historical massacre in the region which adds additional depth to the book .I was not aware of the history so learned something reading the book
The book is firmly set in South Korea and has a similarity with some of the Japanese novels I’ve read recently
This is a novel where very little happens the book concentrates on character development.although personally I felt this wasn’t strong
The author has a clear easily read writing style the book is translated from the original Korean
I read an electronic copy of the novel on NetGalley uk the book was published in the uk 21st January 2025 by Penguin General uk
This review will appear on NetGalley uk ,Goodreads ,StoryGraph and my book blog Bionicsarahsbooks.wordpress.com after publication it will appear on Amazon uk

No review - this hadn’t been sent to my kindle properly and is now archived. I’ll hope to read it one day!

A beautiful story about pain, loss and grief. I have to give credit where credit is due and the lyrical almost poetic writing is really the strong suit of this book filled with metaphors that bring out the core themes of the story.

There is magical realism to the story where we experience moments of dream-like prose which make us unsure of what is reality and what is dream or hallucinations. Those moments are probably the most beautiful parts of the book, however it also detracted from the core focus of the book. This made the narrative a bit choppy and unfocused, which led to a sluggish pacing and slow disinterest in the cruel reality of the Jeju genocide despite it being at the centre of the novel.

I think that the central piece of the story got lost in the meanderings of the characters. I don’t think that we quite needed the main character to be present in this story which I found the most disturbing. I think that we could have been left with only Inseon for better impact and a stronger connection between the indictment against forgetting and the current plot line. It would have helped to focus on the art and the loss.

I think that ultimately, this book was spread too think with too many threads opened and not fully connecting in my opinion. The first half and second half of the book struggle to merge, leaving an unsatisfactory taste in my mouth for both parts. The writing is beautiful and there is so much said in this book but it wasn’t quite executed in a way that would have been fully satisfying for me.

'When I open my eyes, the silence and the darkness are still waiting, unchanged.
It feels as though invisible snowflakes fill the space between us. As though the words we've swallowed are being sealed in between their myriad melded arms.'

The new novel from Nobel winner Han Kang does not disappoint. There is a different tone here, an elegiac but quietly angry voice that permeates the writing. Clearly this is a very personal book, and it packs an emotional punch. My Korean history isn't that great, so I had to do a bit of research into the events of the Jeju massacre that are so important, but even without that this is an extraordinary work of fiction. Part One covers Kyungha being asked by her close friend Inseon to travel to Jeju to make sure her pet bird is still alive. The journey is hard, heading into a snowy wilderness that seems to get further and further away from reality. From there, the next sections of the book develop into a remarkable dream-like vision, and we lose all distinction between reality and vision. What are we reading? Dreams? Memories? And if so, whose memories, whose dreams?

Like the snow everywhere falling, the layers of this book gently increase, and the all-pervading silence will haunt the reader as Kang's luminous prose carries them along. Not much happens, but this is a truly remarkable book that will emotionally challenge the reader. Powerful, visceral, beguiling, this is a work of a writer at their peak. An important and timely story of remembrance.

(With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this title.)

We do not part is a powerful book exploring friendship, trauma and South Korea’s painful past. We follow Kyungha as she travels from Seoul to Jeju Island, to the home of Inseon her hospitalised friend who has asked her to feed her beloved pet bird. As she arrives the Island is hit by a fierce snowstorm which makes us wonder whether she will survive the bitter cold as she tries to find the house, let alone save the bird she is travelling to keep alive. As night falls and she finally arrives at the house, a darkness descends both outside and in as she unveils Inseon’s family history and details of the massacre on the island seventy years before. All of this book is beautifully written, the descriptions of the snow and landscape are sublime. I personally struggled with some of the content and found the second half of the book a bit too abstract, but that’s just me. This book will win many awards I am sure.

Fantastic, enjoyed this one very much, all the dreamy poetic lyricism combined with hard-hitting, thoughtful subject matter that I've come to expect of Han Kang.