some stories crawl under your skin like a spider egg, quiet at first, almost unnoticeable, and then multiply until they take over every part of you. my experience with this short story collection was very much like that.
short story collections are usually hit or miss for me. i need to enjoy most of the stories to confidently recommend a collection, and this is one of those rare cases where i loved every single piece. each story lingers in its own way, refusing to be neatly categorized or easily forgotten.
collection exists on the border between horror and surrealism. it is bizarre and gruesome at times, yet deeply contemplative. even when the imagery is unsettling, you’re left thinking rather than recoiling, forced to sit with what you’ve just read; one cannot move on comfortably.
the stories vary in tone and theme, and the author consistently blurs the lines between gender, trauma, and identity. discomfort feels intentional. at times, the writing seems designed to unsettle the reader, to make you pause and question your own reactions.
(on a side note: it may even come as a surprise to learn that the author uses he/him pronouns, especially after diving deep into the psyche of a female narrator in the opening story)
symbolism runs through every piece, and the references are deeply rooted in korean culture. without some familiarity with the language and cultural context, certain moments might feel confusing or even off-putting. for me, that cultural specificity was one of the collection’s greatest strengths. use of Korean words, the references to shamanistic rituals and beliefs, and the sense of “otherness” created by linguistic shifts all contribute to a deliberate unease. the text makes you uncomfortable, but also curious (and if curiosity wins, you find yourself researching, digging deeper, and engaging more fully with the work.)
as i already mentioned, the collection offers plenty of food for thought, but what truly sets it apart is not just the themes it explores, it’s the way those themes are left unresolved. conflicts aren’t neatly tied up. there is no perfect puzzle, no satisfying symmetry. some pieces are missing altogether; others are mismatched or obscured by cobwebs. the author places them all on the same board and then steps back, leaving the reader to assemble meaning from the fragments.
you have been warned: the final picture will not be clean, tidy, or comforting. but it will stay with you.
if I had to choose the stories i would recommend without hesitation, they would be the titular “God-Disease,” “Kuleshov Effect,” and “Autophagy.” each of these captures what this collection does best, both thematically and stylistically.
“Kuleshov Effect” is the one i feel most personally attached to. (there is a whole lore there) while reading it, there was something deeply unsettling about the way the story was told (and retold,) with ideas shifting and details changing. our memory is unreliable, almost treacherous, and truth feels increasingly slippery. if a short story collection can reach far enough to pull those memories back to the surface, i am not going to complain.
for me these three short stories especially, reflect what makes this collection so effective: its refusal to comfort, its resistance to tidy conclusions, and its insistence on making the reader sit with discomfort.
so yeah, if you are looking for something new and quite uncomfortable to read, check this one out