Nachdem ich im Januar die englische Ausgabe der “Vegetarierin” von Han Kang gelesen habe, war mir klar, dass ich auch ihre nächsten Werke lesen würde. Und so musste doch direkt bei Erscheinen Kangs neues Buch “Menschenwerk” her. Es geht um das Gwangju-Massaker, das 1980 in Korea stattgefunden hat. Ich muss sagen, ich hatte noch nie etwas darüber gehört und war geschockt, dass so etwas meinen Wissenshorizont scheinbar verfehlt hat. Nicht, dass ich zu der Zeit schon gelebt hätte, aber in keiner Geschichtsstunde, an die ich mich erinnere, wurde sich außerordentlich mit Korea beschäftigt. Jedenfalls versucht Han Kang hier nicht, eine detailgetreue Wiedergabe von außerhalb und oberhalb vorzunehmen, sondern sie berichtet aus verschiedenen Perspektiven und auch aus verschiedenen Zeiten, wie dieses Massaker sich aus Studentenprotesten ergeben hat und welche Grausamkeit verübt wurde. Aus Sicht der verschiedenen Protagonisten bekommt der Leser aus erster Hand mit, wie Menschen gefoltert werden, was für ein Leid sie sehen, was für ein Elend sie erfahren müssen. “Menschenwerk” ist kein Buch für zarte Mägen und Wesen. Es beschreibt die Erlebnisse, die selbst Kindern widerfahren sind, und nimmt kein Blatt vor den Mund, nicht, um zwingend zu schockieren, sondern um wiederzugeben, was geschehen ist.

Der Leser verfolgt verschiedene Charaktere, vom Schüler Dong-Ho, seiner Familie bis zu Menschen, deren Wege er kreuzt. Was mir in der “Vegetarierin” gar nicht so aufgefallen ist und auch vielleicht an der deutschen Übersetzung liegen mag, ist die eigenartige Erzählweise. Von oben herab wird teilweise erzählt, aber nicht als allwissender Erzähler, sondern viel mehr als eine Seele, die den Protagonisten begleitet und fühlt, was er fühlt, aber nicht mehr weiß als er und auch vielmehr seine Taten und Gedanken in Worte fasst:

"Du fragst dich, wohin die Seele wandert, wenn der Körper stirbt. Wie lange bleibt sie noch in der Nähe ihrer sterblichen Hülle? […] Wenn ein Trauernder einen Verstorbenen betrachtet, steht dann dessen Seele daneben und betrachtet das Gesicht seiner irdischen Hülle?"

Han Kangs Erzählweise ist zunächst ungewohnt, man benötigt einige Seiten, um sich einzufinden. Dann tritt sofort die Sogwirkung des Buches ein und man kann sich nur noch schwer losreißen, auch, wenn man gar kein Zeuge dieses Grauens werden möchte. Wir verfolgen auch einen gefangenen Protestanten während seiner Folter. Diese Kapitel sind definitiv nichts für zarte Gemüter. Wessen Magen sich bei plastischen Beschreibungen in diesem Szenario umdrehen könnte, überfliegt vielleicht lieber einige Seiten, wobei dann natürlich auch ein Teil der Wirkung des Buchs verpufft.

Die Frage nach dem Weiterleben der Seele nach dem Tod der menschlichen Hülle ist eine grundlegende in diesem Werk. Diverse Seelen begleiten uns in “Menschenwerk” und wir erhaschen Einblicke in das, was möglicherweise geschieht nach dem Tod. Ein weiteres zentrales Thema ist der Wert eines Lebens, besonders nach einer Tragödie. Warum überlebt der Eine, während der Andere sterben muss? Und was ist das Leben noch wert, wenn man erst dieses Grauen gesehen hat, das einen bis ans Lebensende verfolgt? Wie könnte man nur eine Sekunde dieses Lebens noch genießen, wenn man überlebt hat, während tausende andere gestorben sind? Mit diesen Fragen setzt Han Kang sich kritisch auseinander, lässt uns die Schicksale ihrer Figuren erfahren und mit ihnen leiden.

"Jeden Tag betrachte ich die Narben auf meiner Hand. Ich streiche über die Stellen, an denen der Knochen offen gelegen hatte […]. Ich warte darauf, dass die Zeit alle Wunden heilt. Darauf, dass der natürliche Tod mich ein für alle Mal erlösen wird von der Erinnerung an den schmutzigen Tod, der mich Tag und Nacht verfolgt."

Fazit: Han Kang hat hier ein Kleinod geschaffen. Nicht, weil es ein Buch ist, das ich an einem Tag verschlingen musste, sondern weil eine so wichtige, von den westlichen Medien damals nicht genau erfasste Tragödie hier an den Menschen gebracht wird. Unser Leiden ist gefragt, unser Mitgefühl. Kang ist jedoch nicht auf Mitleid aus, sondern möchte lediglich auf die Ereignisse aufmerksam machen und uns dieses näher bringen. Das Seelenleben eines Menschen ist ein zentrales Thema in diesem Roman und die Autorin versucht, in Worte zu fassen, was sich vermutlich nach dem Tod abspielt, wie der Mensch als Seele das Geschehene wahrnimmt, ob er von den Grausamkeiten seines Lebens erlöst wird. “Menschenwerk” ist ein Buch, das nicht jedem gefallen wird, einen ungewöhnlichen Erzählstil aufweist und viel vom Leser abverlangt. Nichts für zwischendurch und ebenfalls nichts für den gelegentlichen Leser, der Entspannung in Büchern sucht.

A collection of short stories regarding brutal violence in South Korea, this tragic book was difficult to read, but left my eyes a little wider to the events of the world. The opening story follows the death of Dong-Ho, and appropriately the final story is about Dong-Ho’s mother, but there are several different perspectives in between.

I’ve not read Kang’s other books, but feel compelled to do so after reading this series of stories. I loved that Kang gave each character a different narrative style, including first person, second person, and third person. I read each story one at a time, as I felt it gave each story a clear start and finish that I wouldn’t get if I simply started and stopped randomly throughout the book.

Kang writes clearly and with emotion, leaving in her wake wonderful quotes and one-liners. This book feels like a personal story being told to me, and as such I hesitate to talk about it with others, and I know I could not explain everything that happens without simply handing you the book to read for yourself. I love that Kang was able to craft a story that feels as though she is there telling it to you and you alone, and yet this book can reach so many people and gives voice to these stories for a wider audience. The size of the book is small, so it’s truly only the heavy content that takes a while to read, but it should be pretty accessible for most people.

I found her epilogue at the end particularly stunning, as sometimes I connect more with memoir than fiction. I loved hearing from her perspective why writing this novel was important to her, and it seems the stories filled her when she was awake and asleep until she learned more about what happened in Gwangju Massacre.

This book was absolutely spectacular! Thank you for the opportunity to read and rate it!

Han Kang is one of the greatest writers of the century and “Human Acts” justifies this title!

It is the 1980 and Korea is boiling. Only a few months previously Park Chung-hee, the strong military man that seized authority of the country via his coup in 1969, was murdered. The Korean people cannot stand the military law enforced by his successor. Things turn uglier instead of better. Men and women get out in the streets to protest and request martial law is withdrawn immediately. Police and military forces are sent to subdue the uprising. The military forces make no exception, no discrimination at all. Men and women, elder and young, teens and university students, mothers and children. They shoot at everyone that stands in their way. The kick bodies and heads as if they were sacks of straw.

A young boy, Dong-ho is part of the demonstration. He is there along with a friend. When the soldiers start shooting, people start running on every direction. He is separated from his friend but he can see a bullet going through his ribs. He only tries to find a safe place until the shooting stops, to stay alive. He manages so and he helps with the ugly work to reconnect the bodies with their bereaved. This doesn’t last long…

Dong-ho’s killing is the trigger point of the story. The author gives in every different chapter a different view of the the same and coming facts in Korean history. Starting from the young boy itself, Dong-ho, his friend that was so abruptly killed in the demonstration, an editor struggling with censorship, a prisoner, a factory girl, even Dong-ho’s grieving mother. Through their voices, their traumatic memories, their torture and heartbreak the author attempts to speak the voice of truth.

This is not a happy book… This is not an easy read. It is a book of human brutality, greediness, taking full advantage of power and authority over everyone. This is a book about how human can underestimate human life. The cruelty described in here is part not only of the Korean military forces of the time, but of people with any kind of authority throughout the world. Human acts can project inhumanity to its greatness…

On the other side, there are also the acts of hope, the acts of greatness, the acts of kindness that the heroes of this book demonstrated. The altruistic way those volunteers worked in order for the dead to be recognised and buried, in order to claim their right of freedom of any kind, in order to be able to live as human beings in their own country is amazing. We can only respect the people that participated in the uprising; those who died and those who were left behind, half men and women, trying to assimilate…

I felt really disconnected from this book. I liked how the story was told in 6 different perspectives but I also didn't understand how it all tied together. Why was it different stories? It took me a long time to get through this book. I kept having to force myself to read. The chapters were super long. The premise of the book was good and some stories were really emotional I just idk I didn't feel connected really.

Human Acts starts with the story of one boy, of what happened to him over a few short days in May 1980. It starts with him looking amongst the dead for his best friend, who he had seen shot in the street by soldiers. It ends with him dead, gun in hand, as he tries to make a stand. There are lots of dead in Human Acts, and lots of friends and family looking amongst them for their loved ones. Loved ones who had taken to the streets just like the boy and his friend had, protesting against military rule in South Korea.

The boy is Dung-ho. He is fifteen. And this is the Gwangju uprising, where – depending on reports – hundreds of people were killed over a period of nine days and others as the result of torture and retribution for having stood up to a brutal regime. Brutal is the only word I can think of to describe what I read. Han Kang pulls no punches in her description of what happened to those that died and those that survived.

What happened to some of the survivors is told through long chapters that are more like short stories. Each survivor is visited at a different times in their lives and at different times in South Korea’s history and each is connected to the first chapter and Dung-ho. None have ever fully recovered from what happened to them as a result of their involvement in the uprising. Most of them were young. There were students, factory workers, parents. One was the author herself, who was a child at the time. None were ever the same as a result of what they went through.

It wasn’t a pleasant or easy read at times and I struggled in places to not skim through graphic details. I felt I needed to read every line though because this isn’t just about what happened nearly 40 years ago, this is still happening – if not in South Korea then in other parts of the world. People are still being tortured and abused and it does make you wonder just what we are as humans if we keep doing this to each other. Han Kang says “the question which remains to us is this: what is humanity? What do we have to do to keep humanity as one thing and not another?”.

I don’t know the answer and wish I did. As strange as it may sound, I feel grateful to Han Kang for asking and opening my eyes in such an eloquent way. Because, after finishing this over two weeks ago, it’s still a question that is rattling round my brain and I don’t feel it is going to go away. I am also grateful to have been given the opportunity to read this book. It is beautifully written, despite the subject matter, and translated. The characters are so real, I felt completely connected to them and their fate. For as dark and as hard to read as it was, I loved this book and can’t recommend it enough.

'It happened in Gwangju just as it did on Jeju Island, in Kwantung and Nanjing, in Bosnia, and all across the American continent when it was still known as the New World, with such a uniform brutality it's as though it is imprinted in our genetic code.'

What an astonishing novel. From the same author who wrote The Vegetarian comes a terrifying and true life tale set in South Korea during the the 1980's. Author Han Kang may have only been a child at the time, but her memories of President Chun Doo-hwan's remorseless cruelty towards student and worker protesters inspired her to write this haunting and authentic novel. The Vegetarian may have grabbed the headlines when it won the Man Booker International award last year, but this is the Han Kang novel that deserves the world's attention.

Reading this book was a truly chilling experience. The atmosphere and tension made it feel more like a dystopian thriller than a work of historical fiction. However, an introduction by translator Deborah Smith and a very personal epilogue by author Han Kang prevent this book from becoming a sensationalist account. Instead, there is a sombre mood and tone as thirty years of recent history is recounted through the eyes of six narrators.

Multiple narratives sometimes can be a bit hit and miss but Kang achieves the perfect storytelling balancing act here. Cleverly, a single thread links all aspects of the novel together. The story opens with schoolboy Dong-ho looking for his friend Jeong-dae. In chapter two, Jeong-dae then gives his version of the same events. A former friend of Dong-ho then comes to the fore as she recounts the immediate aftermath of the uprising five years later.

Tales of torture and continued repression emerge in the main meat of the novel. Here, the author gets inside the minds of a college student and a factory worker who lived through and just about survived the Korean government's brutal crackdown. This makes for very tough reading when the reader considers that these accounts are based on real life experiences.

'There were close to a hundred of us all told, wedged in so tight you could feel the knees of the guy behind you pressing into the small of your back. We sweated buckets; literally, it was like we'd been caught in a downpour. Our throats were screamingly dry, but we were only given water three times a day, with meals. I remember how savage, how animalistic that thirst was, how I would have jumped at the chance of literally anything to wet my lips, even a splash of urine would have done. And I remember the constant terror of thinking I might accidentally fall asleep. The terror of having a cigarette stubbed out on my eyelid, so vivid I could practically smell the singed flesh.

And the hunger, of course. How persistently it clung on, a translucent sucker attached to the nape of the neck. I remember those moments when hazy with exhaustion and hunger, it seemed as though that sucker was slowly feeding on my soul.'

The novel comes full circle with the perspectives of Dong-ho's mother and the author herself. In this way, Han Kang ensures that the characters lives are very closely linked over the course of thirty years.

For me, the telling of this story is shared like the passing of a baton. Upon finishing this book, it is almost as if Han Kang has challenged us to carry her message further and become involved in the fight for human rights. History books around the world recall previous human rights violations with shame and the students and teachers often boldly claim that they will ensure these human acts will never happen again. However despite this shared bravado, these events have still happened and continue to happen. Han Kang has reached out to us by writing this novel, only time will tell how we chose to respond.

'Is it true that human beings are fundamentally cruel? Is the experience of cruelty the only thing we share as a species? Is the dignity that we cling to nothing but self-delusion, masking from ourselves this single truth: that each one of us is capable of being reduced to an insect, a ravening beast, a lump of meat? To be degraded, damaged, slaughtered-is this the essential fate of humankind, one that history has confirmed as inevitable?'

Would I recommend this book to a friend?

Yes. In a age where the internet and media companies spoon feed us the news that they want us to hear, stories like this need more publicity. Far too often the abuse of human rights is swept under the carpet and stories like these are forgotten. Reading this book, I found it incredible that South Korea went on the joint host the 2002 World Cup. South Korea is still feeling the aftereffects of these cruelties today and protests against the government continue.

The prose is simply tremendous. Her writing is so brilliant, that despite the descriptive vileness and violence being described you simply read on. This is a fictionalized version of true events, the Gwangju uprising in 1980 South Korea. She lays bare the cruelty of which human beings seem capable of inflicting upon others. Children, being gunned down for simply protesting. The story centers around a youth, Dong-ho, and his dying so unnecessarily. She lets the story unfold in six chapters from varying perspectives and in differing persons. She goes from writing in second person to third person, depending on who is the narrator. This book is one that requires a careful read, lest one gets lost in the tense switching and time shifting.

Although the author was only nine at the time of these events and safely miles away, she writes with an intensity that makes the reader feel as though she may have experienced the uprising first hand. Dong-ho is just a random youth caught up in the violent repression by the state. The police and army put down the rebellion without conscience or care of their fellow citizens, many of them high school age students. Han Kang captures the violence from the perspective of the victim and it is sometimes tough reading. "My body continued to putrefy. More and more mayflies crowded inside my open wounds? Gadflies crawled slowly over my lips and eyelids, rubbing their dark, slender legs together."

Clearly the book is aptly titled, invoking what acts humans are indeed capable of. The novel is certainly haunting, but the prose will keep the cruelty from overwhelming the reader and the investment of time will be well spent.
I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.

Human Acts is a historical fictional account of the Gwangju uprising in South Korea. The novel is written by Han Kang, the author who brought us last year's hugely acclaimed The Vegetarian, and in this book, again, she tackles difficult subject matter with such imagery that if you're not careful, you might lose your lunch. Human Acts is translated from Korean by Deborah Smith but little of the meaning or imagery gets lost in translation as Smith is careful to point out in the introduction, even showing how she paid homage to Kang's use of indigenous language. Throughout the story, Kang's feeling about the event comes through, evoking sensory responses as well as she calls on emotion and provokes thought. In the novel, she switches back and forth between narrators and accounts, telling several stories but tracing one central theme of humanity - man in response to his environment
I recommend the book for voracious readers of literary or historical fiction. Human Acts informed me about an event that I might not otherwise have ever known about and inspired me to do some research. Readers who like to learn something even from their fiction and who enjoy being challenged by made-up characters, will likely enjoy this book.

This is a fictional account of the 1980 Gwangju uprising. It is told in six chapters from six different points-of-view. I did not like how the first chapter was written. The second chapter was pretty good. I didn't make it all the way through the third chapter. I found this book jumped around too much and I wasn't interested enough to figure out what was going on. It was tedious and a chore to read.

DNF @ 44%.

It is a book about the 'Gwangju Uprising'. The country at the time was a haven for political unrest where children and young men were out in a battle against their own government. Children as young as 12 years of age were being shot and the bodies were thrown on top of another to form a pile and burnt.
The massacre turned out to be not only brutish but inhuman.
'No, none of us fired our guns.
None of us killed anybody.
Even when he soldiers stormed up the stairs and emerged toward us out of the darkness, none of our group fired their guns. It was impossible for them to pull the trigger knowing that a person would die if they did so. They were children. We had handed guns to children. Guns they were not capable of firing.'
A platoon of children incapable of firing was razed to the ground within seconds.
Han kang having lived in the country has seen the impact and the book translated by Deborah smith portrays a psychological picture which is going to be glued on to the blind spot forever.
The book begins with a boy trying to look on to a procession. It looks like a regular rainy day but it is hardly so. 'The Boy' is out looking for his friend and his sister when. Having searched at all the places he takes up work at the mortuary. He prepares the bodies for those who come to identify their relatives. The gory descriptions leave you a scar. The boy while working wonders 'for how long does a soul linger near their body after death'.
'The boy's friend' is death already, stuck beneath a pile of other death bodies. He wants to go looking for his friend. 'When they threw a straw sack over the body of the man at the very top, the tower of bodies was transformed into the corpse of some enormous, fantastical beast, it's dozens of legs splayed put beneath it.' The soul remembers his friends and the days gone by. And then he talks about mere bodies now. As bone chilling as this, this part is probably hit me the hardest.
There are other chapters which are grotesque too. An editor is slapped by a soldier to reveal the information that she has no idea about. She is trying to forget the slaps in her head whereas on the outside it a regular day for her. A prisoner is recollecting his memories from the war. And a mother is remembering her youngest child, wondering if the early death of her husband was a tragedy or a blessing for him.
The stories span several decades after the uprising portraying its impact on each individual.
The book in its entirety holds a good claim for the Booker too. It is not a war novel. It is a psychological ghoul which will follow you everywhere. This is a book that will change lives!

"I never let myself forget that every single person I meet is a member of this human race."

This book is heavy. My heart aches from the passages described in here, but it's oh so important. Human Acts is about an uprising that took place in Gwangju, South Korea in 1980, an event that I never learned about, and likely wouldn't have thought about until reading this book. The narrative shifts for each chapter to a different character, in a different time, with a different story of how the uprising has impacted them.

All of the stories are connected by a boy. All of the characters are connected by the utter humanity that leaks through the words as they struggle to tell their stories. All of the stories are connected by a reminder that it never is, nor will it ever be, an "Us vs. Them," no matter how many times governments will tell us so. Every Them is a collection of individuals, of humans, that have a greater impact than anyone can possibly know. Just like Us.

Han Kang and Deborah Smith are an incredible team that I will be seeking more from, once I give my heart a rest. This was not an easy read, but it is an easy recommendation.

"We would rather die on our feet than live on our knees. Let's join together for a minute's silence in tribute to those who have already paid the price, let's follow in their footsteps and fight to the end, because...because we are noble."

This is the first book I have read by Han Kang, and I found it to be very potent and moving in its fictional accessibility of a real-life student uprising that occurred in Gwangju, South Korea in 1980. As this was an event that I did not know about (which I feel I need to truthfully admit, as I was neither alive at the time, or have had much exposure to anything but the most modern of South Korean history), I found myself drawn to learn more and so did additional research upon completion to see how true the setting and atmosphere of the novel felt. Some of the imagery left me reeling, yet plunging forward through the story.

This book is so thoughtfully written, so well timed, and so important to our understanding of what it means as a human to witness and experience oppression and destruction. It does in fact, as the author explores, make you wonder if cruelty is an essential part of being human.

I think this is a wonderful read, particularly for those inclined to historical fiction with beautiful, brutal philosophical prose. This story is important to all humans as we consider what it is to be a citizen of this world, and how different each of our countries treat their kith and kin. This story may take place in 1980, but the tale carries on each day in a different place.

The author Han Kang is also the recipient of the Man Booker Prize for 'The Vegetarian'. I will be seeking out his works after enjoying this first selection.

“Is it true that human beings are fundamentally cruel? Is the experience of cruelty the only thing we share as a species? Is the dignity that we cling to nothing but self-delusion, masking from ourselves the single truth: that each one of us is capable of being reduced to an insect, a ravening beast, a lump of meat? To be degraded, slaughtered - is this the essential of humankind, one which history has confirmed as inevitable?”


One of the most intense books that I have ever read!

This book... oh man, it educated me, challenged me, and made me look at history through a different lens. Rethink humanity in ways that I hadn't thought about before. What a powerful unforgettable telling of history. The author focused on portraying the reality of oppression in an almost poetic tone. It's hard to put into words, how much of an impact this book can have on people's life. Suffice it to say, go read it!

When I read this quote^, it seemed to summarize the message of this book: that cruelty is inevitable and a part of humankind. Here we follow six povs, exploring the effects and repercussions of the Gwangju Uprising of 1980, and how that had an effect throughout the years. At the center of this novel, is a touching story about Dong-ho's tragic end. If I'm completely honest, I knew nothing about South Korean history, because in the time period that this was set, I wasn't even born yet, nor did anyone teach me this.

Not all the POVs were as interesting as I would have liked them to be. For example, the one with the publishing editor I found to be quite boring because I didn't feel like it had a lot to contribute to the overall story. While the one with Dong-ho's best friend was a fascinating concept, and one of my favorite parts of the book as a whole.

My only negative with this book, was that at some parts I was so completely confused as to where the connection was in the multiple story lines. I know that it wasn't supposed to feel this way, but I thought that the vignettes read as short stories to me, and because this took me a couple of days to finish; I felt quite disoriented. But you know what, this book isn't meant to be read in one sitting, y'know? It's brutal and heartbreaking and gut-wrenching, and sometimes things got a little bit too violently graphic for me personally.

Want to give credit to the amazing Deborah Smith who translated this work so beautifully. I really believe that this book will go on to win awards, and all deservedly so.

**Thanks to NetGalley and BloggingForBooks for publishing me a copy in exchange for my honest review. All opinion are my own.**