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Prize-winning Korean author Kim Hye-jin’s debut confronts familial love, duty, mortality, and generational schism through the incendiary gaze of a tradition-bound mother faced with her daughter’s queer relationship.
When a widowed, aging mother allows Green, her thirty-something daughter, to move into her apartment, all she wants for her is a stable and quiet existence like her own. Ideally, a steady income and, most importantly, a good husband with whom to start a family.
But when Green turns up with her long-term girlfriend in tow, her mother is enraged and unwilling to welcome their relationship into her home. Having centered her life on her husband and child, her daughter’s definition of family is not one she can accept. Green’s involvement in a campus protest against unfair dismissals of gay colleagues throws her into deeper shambles.
Meanwhile, the nursing home where she works insists that she lower her standard of care for Jen, an elderly dementia patient who traveled the world as a successful diplomat, chose not to have children, and has no family. Outraged, Green’s mother begins to reconsider the unfair consequences of choosing one’s own path.
With bracing honesty, Kim Hye-jin taps into the complexities of mother-daughter dynamics while unearthing the mechanisms of violence that target LGBTQ communities in traditional societies. Elegantly translated from the Korean by Jamie Chang, Concerning My Daughter shines a light on all facets of familial love and conflict.
When a widowed, aging mother allows Green, her thirty-something daughter, to move into her apartment, all she wants for her is a stable and quiet existence like her own. Ideally, a steady income and, most importantly, a good husband with whom to start a family.
But when Green turns up with her long-term girlfriend in tow, her mother is enraged and unwilling to welcome their relationship into her home. Having centered her life on her husband and child, her daughter’s definition of family is not one she can accept. Green’s involvement in a campus protest against unfair dismissals of gay colleagues throws her into deeper shambles.
Meanwhile, the nursing home where she works insists that she lower her standard of care for Jen, an elderly dementia patient who traveled the world as a successful diplomat, chose not to have children, and has no family. Outraged, Green’s mother begins to reconsider the unfair consequences of choosing one’s own path.
With bracing honesty, Kim Hye-jin taps into the complexities of mother-daughter dynamics while unearthing the mechanisms of violence that target LGBTQ communities in traditional societies. Elegantly translated from the Korean by Jamie Chang, Concerning My Daughter shines a light on all facets of familial love and conflict.
171 pages, Paperback
First published September 15, 2017
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25827 people want to read
About the author
Kim Hye-jin
15 books159 followersKim Hye-jin was born in Daegu, Korea, in 1983. She debuted in 2012 when her story ‘Chicken Run’ won Dong-A Ilbo’s Spring Literary Award. She won the Joongang Novel Prize for Joongang Station, and the Shin Dong-yup Prize for Literature for Concerning My Daughter.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,023 reviews
February 9, 2022
A dense, exceptionally powerful piece that grew out of Korean author, Kim Hye-jin’s desire to reflect on what the world might look like from her mother’s point of view, it’s narrated entirely from the perspective of a woman of around 70 who has a daughter in her thirties. Their relationship’s blighted by the mother’s inability to comprehend what her daughter, Green, wants from life and why she’s decided to live openly as a lesbian with her partner Lane. At first, I thought this might be another of those rather stereotypical presentations of age versus youth which reinforces ageism, and takes a rather superficial, clichéd approach to representing the fight for LGBTQ rights. But Kim transforms what initially appears to be a well-worn story of generational conflict, conservatism and prejudice, into something far more intricate and moving. Through her self-questioning narrator, Kim constructs a blistering indictment of a culture in crisis, where the social contract has pretty much failed. A society that makes incessant demands of its members, particularly women, but doesn’t deliver on its promises. A culture which is both deeply homophobic and appallingly ageist, with vast numbers of older people living in poverty.
Kim's narrator exists in a perpetual state of fear that borders on terror, she’s done everything required of her, made a suitable marriage, given birth, worked tirelessly but still she has almost nothing to show for it. Her husband’s dead, all she has is a crumbling home, and an exhausting, insecure, low-paid job as a carer in a facility for the elderly. Yet despite this, or perhaps because of it, she’s fixated on steering her daughter Green towards making the same choices, unable to let go of ingrained beliefs in the supremacy of conventional family life as a means to living well: a man, a woman, children. Something that her primary patient Jen, a once highly-successful, single woman, now rapidly deteriorating, chose not to pursue. Kim juxtaposes the narrator’s passionate advocacy for the unconventional Jen with Green’s fight for LGBTQ rights after her university colleagues are fired for introducing gay themes into their lectures. And it’s the relationship that slowly builds between the mother, Green, Lane and Jen that finally offers up the possibility of intimate connection, reconciliation and understanding.
Kim work’s demanding at times, she structures her narrative according to the logic of the narrator’s thoughts and feelings, so there are occasional abrupt shifts in time and setting, and information is drip-fed, with the sudden insertion of sentences or phrases that subtly alter interpretations of the narrator’s position on what’s unfolding around her. The scenes of appalling, casual cruelty in the care home where the mother works parallel the brutal treatment of the LGBTQ protestors at Green’s university, as they’re tormented by savagely homophobic, hate groups, highlighting the painful consequences of discrimination in various guises. Kim doesn’t quite pull things off here, at times she can be a little heavy-handed, underlining, or repeating points already clearly established. But still, it’s an impressive piece. For some western readers I imagine, as with Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982, this will be the type of book that elicits a certain type of voyeuristic, self-congratulatory response. But, although this is strongly rooted in contemporary, South Korean culture, there are many aspects of the ways in which discrimination operates here that should be familiar to anyone living in a similarly, advanced capitalist country: an emphasis on status symbols, outward appearance and positional goods, the ways in which an individual’s worth has become tied to wealth and economic power. South Korea has been slated, rightly, for its lack of recognition of LGBTQ rights and for its treatment of older people, but many of the situations depicted here are occurring elsewhere. In the U.K., to take just one example, there've been frequent exposés of cruelty in care homes, not to mention the large numbers of unnecessary deaths in these settings during the current pandemic, and despite anti-discrimination laws and improvements in the recognition of LGBTQ rights, vicious homophobic, hate crimes are rising rapidly.
First published in South Korea in 2017 as 딸에 대하여 ("About My Daughter"), Kim Hye-jin’s award-winning novel’s translated here by Jamie Chang.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Picador for an ARC
Kim's narrator exists in a perpetual state of fear that borders on terror, she’s done everything required of her, made a suitable marriage, given birth, worked tirelessly but still she has almost nothing to show for it. Her husband’s dead, all she has is a crumbling home, and an exhausting, insecure, low-paid job as a carer in a facility for the elderly. Yet despite this, or perhaps because of it, she’s fixated on steering her daughter Green towards making the same choices, unable to let go of ingrained beliefs in the supremacy of conventional family life as a means to living well: a man, a woman, children. Something that her primary patient Jen, a once highly-successful, single woman, now rapidly deteriorating, chose not to pursue. Kim juxtaposes the narrator’s passionate advocacy for the unconventional Jen with Green’s fight for LGBTQ rights after her university colleagues are fired for introducing gay themes into their lectures. And it’s the relationship that slowly builds between the mother, Green, Lane and Jen that finally offers up the possibility of intimate connection, reconciliation and understanding.
Kim work’s demanding at times, she structures her narrative according to the logic of the narrator’s thoughts and feelings, so there are occasional abrupt shifts in time and setting, and information is drip-fed, with the sudden insertion of sentences or phrases that subtly alter interpretations of the narrator’s position on what’s unfolding around her. The scenes of appalling, casual cruelty in the care home where the mother works parallel the brutal treatment of the LGBTQ protestors at Green’s university, as they’re tormented by savagely homophobic, hate groups, highlighting the painful consequences of discrimination in various guises. Kim doesn’t quite pull things off here, at times she can be a little heavy-handed, underlining, or repeating points already clearly established. But still, it’s an impressive piece. For some western readers I imagine, as with Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982, this will be the type of book that elicits a certain type of voyeuristic, self-congratulatory response. But, although this is strongly rooted in contemporary, South Korean culture, there are many aspects of the ways in which discrimination operates here that should be familiar to anyone living in a similarly, advanced capitalist country: an emphasis on status symbols, outward appearance and positional goods, the ways in which an individual’s worth has become tied to wealth and economic power. South Korea has been slated, rightly, for its lack of recognition of LGBTQ rights and for its treatment of older people, but many of the situations depicted here are occurring elsewhere. In the U.K., to take just one example, there've been frequent exposés of cruelty in care homes, not to mention the large numbers of unnecessary deaths in these settings during the current pandemic, and despite anti-discrimination laws and improvements in the recognition of LGBTQ rights, vicious homophobic, hate crimes are rising rapidly.
First published in South Korea in 2017 as 딸에 대하여 ("About My Daughter"), Kim Hye-jin’s award-winning novel’s translated here by Jamie Chang.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Picador for an ARC
January 24, 2022
English: Concerning My Daughter (coming in April 2022)
In this novella, Kim Hye-Jin gives us the perspective of a homophobic Korean mother who discriminates against her thirtysomething lesbian daughter, accusing her kid's girlfriend, portrayed as a loyal and loving partner, of ruining her life. But the narrative viewpoint gives room to complications: The mother is also a hard-working widow who is terrified by what she witnesses in her job as a caretaker for the elderly, she fears that without a traditional life, a husband and children, her own beloved daughter will end up alone and unhappy - and that's what makes the text special: While it's easy to hate the bigoted views of our narrator, it's hard to hate her, because she is driven by fear and, ultimately, love for her only child.
When the daughter and her girlfriend move in with her due to monetary issues, conflicts arise, but while the mother first despises her daughter's activism for colleagues who got fired because of their homosexuality, she slowly sees that the humanist concerns that torture her in her job are not that different from what plagues her daughter: They both long for dignity.
The compisition of the story is simple, but stringent and effective, and while knowing a thing or two about Korean society will certainly help, it would probably be to easy to dismiss what is portrayed here as a Korean problem (this is one of the connections to Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982): The marginalization of LGBTQ+ people and the elderly is real in many societies all over the world.
At the same time, this text is somehow basic, adressing very obvious issues in a straightforward manner, working with many cliches. You can certainly make a case that this doesn't render the text less relevant, and you would be correct, but I would have enjoyed a more complex construction and more nuanced characters.
In this novella, Kim Hye-Jin gives us the perspective of a homophobic Korean mother who discriminates against her thirtysomething lesbian daughter, accusing her kid's girlfriend, portrayed as a loyal and loving partner, of ruining her life. But the narrative viewpoint gives room to complications: The mother is also a hard-working widow who is terrified by what she witnesses in her job as a caretaker for the elderly, she fears that without a traditional life, a husband and children, her own beloved daughter will end up alone and unhappy - and that's what makes the text special: While it's easy to hate the bigoted views of our narrator, it's hard to hate her, because she is driven by fear and, ultimately, love for her only child.
When the daughter and her girlfriend move in with her due to monetary issues, conflicts arise, but while the mother first despises her daughter's activism for colleagues who got fired because of their homosexuality, she slowly sees that the humanist concerns that torture her in her job are not that different from what plagues her daughter: They both long for dignity.
The compisition of the story is simple, but stringent and effective, and while knowing a thing or two about Korean society will certainly help, it would probably be to easy to dismiss what is portrayed here as a Korean problem (this is one of the connections to Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982): The marginalization of LGBTQ+ people and the elderly is real in many societies all over the world.
At the same time, this text is somehow basic, adressing very obvious issues in a straightforward manner, working with many cliches. You can certainly make a case that this doesn't render the text less relevant, and you would be correct, but I would have enjoyed a more complex construction and more nuanced characters.
February 25, 2024
Un libro duro que habla de homofobia, del trato de las personas mayores en las residencias, del choque intergeneracional y de los prejuicios.
A mi me llegó especialmente la parte de las residencias de ancianos porque creo que es algo que estamos viendo día a día delante de nosotros sin que nadie haga nada... pero la mirada hacia la homofobia en Corea del sur es espeluznante.
Muy recomendable si buscas una historia realista, que te haga reflexionar y empatizar con puntos de vista y situaciones muy diversas a través de una voz única y veraz.
A mi me llegó especialmente la parte de las residencias de ancianos porque creo que es algo que estamos viendo día a día delante de nosotros sin que nadie haga nada... pero la mirada hacia la homofobia en Corea del sur es espeluznante.
Muy recomendable si buscas una historia realista, que te haga reflexionar y empatizar con puntos de vista y situaciones muy diversas a través de una voz única y veraz.
June 8, 2022
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Despite its short length Concerning my Daughter is by no means a breeze to read. It is a candid and stark study of a fraught mother-daughter relationship. In Concerning my Daughter Kim Hye-Jin examines generational differences, cultural conservatism, and the realities of being an lgbtq+ person living in a heteronormative and traditionalist society.
The story is told from the perspective of a middle-aged woman, a widowed careworker and mother to Green, who is now in her thirties. When Green asks her to rent out a room to her, she reluctantly obliges and is horrified to discover that Green will be joined by her long-term girlfriend, Lane. The mother wants her daughter to be happy, but her vision of contentment does not align with Green’s. The narrator longs for Green to lead a ‘normal’, expected, life: husband, children, a house. But here she is in her thirties and living with her. Worst, she is 'unapologetically' and 'unabashedly' gay, and has no intention of hiding her relationship from the prying eyes of others. In fact, Green is fighting for lgbtq+ rights, protesting the discrimination and unfair dismissal faced by members of her community at the university where she was employed at.
Throughout the course of the narrative, the mother fails to understand her daughter, and to a certain extent vice-versa. The author never condemns the mother for her lack of knowledge or her unwillingness to understand her daughter’s sexuality. Without excusing her homophobia, she identifies instead the harmful rhetorics promoted by her society. Additionally, we are shown repeatedly that it is this desire to protect her daughter from discrimination and injustices that leads her to reject Green’s ‘unorthodox’ lifestyle. Being in her head was by no means pleasant but her perspective rang sadly true to life.
The narrative swings between the mother’s uneasy relationship with Green and her girlfriend, to her taxing workplace. There she witnesses how uncaring and downright neglectful the staff is towards one of her elderly dementia patients. The patient has no family to speak of and therefore no one but our narrator looks out for her. The mother fights against the idea that this patient should be treated this way because she did not conform to society (the patient was a diplomat of some renown who travelled the world). I found the parallelism between this patient and Green banal …
I also disliked the gratuitous descriptions of the patients’ bodily functions and wounds. The author could have made us understand her neglectful living conditions without lingering on scenes detailing these things.
Her experiences with this patient lead to some depressingly bleak questions about mortality and ageing that at times came across as a wee bit too predictable.
I think I would have found this to be a more compelling story if the narrative had focused exclusively on the mother-daughter relationship but neither of these characters struck me as particularly fleshed out. It would have been nice also if the perspective could have alternated between the mother and Green’s girlfriend, just so we could see Green both in the role of daughter and partner.
Still, I appreciated the issues raised in this narrative. In some ways, it hit a bit too close to home as I am a lesbian from a fairly conservative country that has yet to legalize gay marriage and cares little about the wellbeing of its lgbtq+ citizens and I am temporarily living with someone who has dementia and needs full-time care...so yes, maybe readers who are more removed from the events described in the narrative, or are not as 'thin-skinned' as I am, will find this to be a more poignant read than I did.
“The expectations and ambitions, possibilities and hopes concerning my daughter - they still remain and torment me no matter how hard I work to get rid of them. To be rid of them, how skeletal and empty do I have to be?
Despite its short length Concerning my Daughter is by no means a breeze to read. It is a candid and stark study of a fraught mother-daughter relationship. In Concerning my Daughter Kim Hye-Jin examines generational differences, cultural conservatism, and the realities of being an lgbtq+ person living in a heteronormative and traditionalist society.
The story is told from the perspective of a middle-aged woman, a widowed careworker and mother to Green, who is now in her thirties. When Green asks her to rent out a room to her, she reluctantly obliges and is horrified to discover that Green will be joined by her long-term girlfriend, Lane. The mother wants her daughter to be happy, but her vision of contentment does not align with Green’s. The narrator longs for Green to lead a ‘normal’, expected, life: husband, children, a house. But here she is in her thirties and living with her. Worst, she is 'unapologetically' and 'unabashedly' gay, and has no intention of hiding her relationship from the prying eyes of others. In fact, Green is fighting for lgbtq+ rights, protesting the discrimination and unfair dismissal faced by members of her community at the university where she was employed at.
Throughout the course of the narrative, the mother fails to understand her daughter, and to a certain extent vice-versa. The author never condemns the mother for her lack of knowledge or her unwillingness to understand her daughter’s sexuality. Without excusing her homophobia, she identifies instead the harmful rhetorics promoted by her society. Additionally, we are shown repeatedly that it is this desire to protect her daughter from discrimination and injustices that leads her to reject Green’s ‘unorthodox’ lifestyle. Being in her head was by no means pleasant but her perspective rang sadly true to life.
The narrative swings between the mother’s uneasy relationship with Green and her girlfriend, to her taxing workplace. There she witnesses how uncaring and downright neglectful the staff is towards one of her elderly dementia patients. The patient has no family to speak of and therefore no one but our narrator looks out for her. The mother fights against the idea that this patient should be treated this way because she did not conform to society (the patient was a diplomat of some renown who travelled the world). I found the parallelism between this patient and Green banal …
I also disliked the gratuitous descriptions of the patients’ bodily functions and wounds. The author could have made us understand her neglectful living conditions without lingering on scenes detailing these things.
Her experiences with this patient lead to some depressingly bleak questions about mortality and ageing that at times came across as a wee bit too predictable.
I think I would have found this to be a more compelling story if the narrative had focused exclusively on the mother-daughter relationship but neither of these characters struck me as particularly fleshed out. It would have been nice also if the perspective could have alternated between the mother and Green’s girlfriend, just so we could see Green both in the role of daughter and partner.
Still, I appreciated the issues raised in this narrative. In some ways, it hit a bit too close to home as I am a lesbian from a fairly conservative country that has yet to legalize gay marriage and cares little about the wellbeing of its lgbtq+ citizens and I am temporarily living with someone who has dementia and needs full-time care...so yes, maybe readers who are more removed from the events described in the narrative, or are not as 'thin-skinned' as I am, will find this to be a more poignant read than I did.
September 21, 2022
3.5
This little novel was hyper-realistic, the simple, matter-of-fact writing contributed in a way to that realism.
The narrator of this novel is a widowed woman in her late sixties who works as a carer in an old people's home, where she looks after a woman suffering with dementia. It's a hard job, both physically and emotionally. The narrator wonders how long she'll be able to do this exhausting work and fears ending up like most residents, who have no one to visit them and are just waiting to die.
And then, her only daughter, now in her thirties, has to move in with her, as she's broke and can't find a permanent job. She shares her room with her long-term partner, another woman.
The narrator is unhappy with this arrangement, she doesn't get it, she doesn't see the point, how can they have kids, and how about what people say. All these qualms are only amplified by the fact that the daughter and her girlfriend are protesting unfair dismissal and discrimination in the workplace.
Concerning my daughter looks at intergenerational conflict, tradition, ageing and to a degree, loneliness in Korean context.
This little novel was hyper-realistic, the simple, matter-of-fact writing contributed in a way to that realism.
The narrator of this novel is a widowed woman in her late sixties who works as a carer in an old people's home, where she looks after a woman suffering with dementia. It's a hard job, both physically and emotionally. The narrator wonders how long she'll be able to do this exhausting work and fears ending up like most residents, who have no one to visit them and are just waiting to die.
And then, her only daughter, now in her thirties, has to move in with her, as she's broke and can't find a permanent job. She shares her room with her long-term partner, another woman.
The narrator is unhappy with this arrangement, she doesn't get it, she doesn't see the point, how can they have kids, and how about what people say. All these qualms are only amplified by the fact that the daughter and her girlfriend are protesting unfair dismissal and discrimination in the workplace.
Concerning my daughter looks at intergenerational conflict, tradition, ageing and to a degree, loneliness in Korean context.
October 20, 2023
This really triggered my mommy issues lol.
May 6, 2023
What an interesting sparse novel, told from an unlikely perspective about queer lives in Korea and investigativing other issues like ageism, elder care, and how the heteropatriarchay and capitalism fail to fulfill their promises, especially to women. I was fascinated to read that this author began this book with the idea of trying to see things from her mother's point of view. Diving into the perspective of an older generation steeped in deepseated homophobia and sexism is not for the faint of heart.
The mother, our unnamed narrator and protagonist, works for low wages as a carer at a facility for older adults, although she herself is in her 70s. Financially, she has to continue working to provide for herself, as her husband has died and the money she makes from renting rooms in the old house she inherited on her husband's death isn't enough to cover her expenses. She's forced to finally reckon with the fact that her 30something daughter is a lesbian when she and her partner of seven years have to move in with the mother, also for financial reasons.
It's to Kim Hye-Jin's credit that the protagonist never veers into villain territory, despite some of the nasty things she says and does, especially to her daughter's partner. It's a brutal irony that she continues to insist her daughter needs to marry a man and have children in order to be happy and establish financial security and social status, when following that very path for herself did not have those consequences!!
She's not a static character though; the movement here is her relationship with Jen, a woman she cares for who has dementia and no family, having spent her younger days traveling, being a diplomat, doing charity, and accomplishing a lot career wise. When Jen's well being is jeopardized, the narrator is forced to consider the parallels between Jen and her daughter.
Definitely recommended, especially as a queer book in translation from outside Europe as per Laura Sackton's #QueerYourYear reading challenge!
The mother, our unnamed narrator and protagonist, works for low wages as a carer at a facility for older adults, although she herself is in her 70s. Financially, she has to continue working to provide for herself, as her husband has died and the money she makes from renting rooms in the old house she inherited on her husband's death isn't enough to cover her expenses. She's forced to finally reckon with the fact that her 30something daughter is a lesbian when she and her partner of seven years have to move in with the mother, also for financial reasons.
It's to Kim Hye-Jin's credit that the protagonist never veers into villain territory, despite some of the nasty things she says and does, especially to her daughter's partner. It's a brutal irony that she continues to insist her daughter needs to marry a man and have children in order to be happy and establish financial security and social status, when following that very path for herself did not have those consequences!!
She's not a static character though; the movement here is her relationship with Jen, a woman she cares for who has dementia and no family, having spent her younger days traveling, being a diplomat, doing charity, and accomplishing a lot career wise. When Jen's well being is jeopardized, the narrator is forced to consider the parallels between Jen and her daughter.
Definitely recommended, especially as a queer book in translation from outside Europe as per Laura Sackton's #QueerYourYear reading challenge!
May 11, 2023
Η πρωταγωνίστρια είναι μια γυναίκα -χήρα συγκεκριμένα- που προσπαθεί να επιβιώσει στις δύσκολες εποχές της χώρας της, δουλεύοντας σε ένα οίκο ευγηρίας βγάζοντας τα προς το ζην. Εκεί φροντίζει την Τζεν, μια γυναίκα που στο παρελθόν αγωνιζόταν για τα δικαιώματα των άλλων, ενώ τώρα που πάσχει από άνοια, δεν έχει κανένα να την φροντίζει παρα μόνο εκείνη. Παράλληλα η αφηγήτρια έχει μια κόρη που θα αναγκαστεί να ζητησει βοήθεια από τη μητέρα της για να μείνουν για ένα διάστημα εκείνη και η σύντροφός της μαζί της. Όσο κι αν δεν δέχεται να φιλοξενήσει τη σύντροφό της, θα καταλήξουν και οι τρείς να μένουν κάτω από την ίδια στέγη και η σύγκρουση δεν θα αργήσει να εμφανιστεί.
Το "Η κόρη μου" μπορεί να είναι ένα βιβλίο μικρό σε μέγεθος αλλά τεράστιο σε βάθος, είναι από τα βιβλία που μπορεί να υπογραμμιστεί κάθε φράση, κάθε λέξη και που καταφέρνει να μιλήσει για πολλά θέματα. Κάποια από αυτά που θίγει είναι η ομοφοβία, η ανασφάλεια στον εργασιακό χώρο, η ηλικία,η έλλειψη ενσυναίσθησης. Επισης θιγει τα θέματα των οικογενειακών σχέσεων για το πόσο δύσκολο είναι να καταλάβει ο γονιός το παιδί ή το αντίστροφο, να επικοινωνήσουν και να κατανοήσουν τα θέματα που τους απασχολούν και να δώσουν την προσοχή που χρειάζονται για το τι νιώθει ή σκέφτεται ο κάθένας αντίστοιχα. Φυσικά πρωταρχικό ρόλο έχει η ομοφοβία που επικρίνεται μέσω της μισαλλοδοξίας και μιας κουλτούρας που νοιάζονται για το τι θα πει η κοινωνία και όχι να ζήσουν τη δική τους ευτυχία.
"Ο κόσμος της κόρης μου είναι πολύ μακριά από τον δικό μου. Η κόρη μου δεν θα επιστρέψει ποτέ ξανά στην αγκαλιά μου."
Η γραφή των Ιάπωνων- Κορεατών συγγραφέων για κάποιο λόγο με γοητεύει παραπάνω απ’ όσο περιμένω κάθε φορά.Με κάνει να νιώσω ένα συνοθύλευμα συναισθημάτων τοσο έντονο που μένει μέσα μου καιρό.
Να το διαβάσετε!
Το "Η κόρη μου" μπορεί να είναι ένα βιβλίο μικρό σε μέγεθος αλλά τεράστιο σε βάθος, είναι από τα βιβλία που μπορεί να υπογραμμιστεί κάθε φράση, κάθε λέξη και που καταφέρνει να μιλήσει για πολλά θέματα. Κάποια από αυτά που θίγει είναι η ομοφοβία, η ανασφάλεια στον εργασιακό χώρο, η ηλικία,η έλλειψη ενσυναίσθησης. Επισης θιγει τα θέματα των οικογενειακών σχέσεων για το πόσο δύσκολο είναι να καταλάβει ο γονιός το παιδί ή το αντίστροφο, να επικοινωνήσουν και να κατανοήσουν τα θέματα που τους απασχολούν και να δώσουν την προσοχή που χρειάζονται για το τι νιώθει ή σκέφτεται ο κάθένας αντίστοιχα. Φυσικά πρωταρχικό ρόλο έχει η ομοφοβία που επικρίνεται μέσω της μισαλλοδοξίας και μιας κουλτούρας που νοιάζονται για το τι θα πει η κοινωνία και όχι να ζήσουν τη δική τους ευτυχία.
"Ο κόσμος της κόρης μου είναι πολύ μακριά από τον δικό μου. Η κόρη μου δεν θα επιστρέψει ποτέ ξανά στην αγκαλιά μου."
Η γραφή των Ιάπωνων- Κορεατών συγγραφέων για κάποιο λόγο με γοητεύει παραπάνω απ’ όσο περιμένω κάθε φορά.Με κάνει να νιώσω ένα συνοθύλευμα συναισθημάτων τοσο έντονο που μένει μέσα μου καιρό.
Να το διαβάσετε!
February 4, 2023
‘Ben iyi biriyim.
Hayatım boyunca bunun için çabaladım. İyi evlat. İyi kardeş. İyi eş. İyi anne. İyi komşu. Ve bir dönem de iyi öğretmen.
Gerçekten emek harcadım.
Başkalarıyla empati kurabilen biriyim.
Her konuda elimden gelenin en iyisini yaparım.
Yardımseverim.
Başkalarına anlayış gösteririm. Elbette herkese.
Düşünceli biriyim.
Ya da belki. Korkağın tekiyim. Hiçbir şey duymak istemeyen, risk almaktan kaçan, başkasının meselesine burnunu sokmayan biriyim. Etliye sütlüye karışmayan, kıyafetleri kirlenmesin diye hep kenarda duran biriyim. Duyulmak istenenleri söyleyen, görülmek istenen ifadeyi takınan, çaktırmadan geri adım atan kişiyim. Yine de iyi biri olmak mı istiyorum? Peki ya konu kızım olduğunda?’
.
Bu monolog uzun zamandır düşündüklerimin bir özeti gibi. İçimdekiler ile dışa yansıttıklarımın birbirinden ne kadar farklı olduğuna dair..
.
Kızım Hakkında Her Şey’e başladığımda bir ebeveyn hikayesi okuyacağımı düşünmüştüm ama okudukça şunu gördüm: hepimiz her gün bir savaşın ortasına çekiliyoruz. Çalışıyoruz, koşturuyoruz üstelik sürekli izleniyoruz, eleştiriliyor ve yargılanıyoruz. Kızım Hakkında Her Şey’de de bu savaşlar var. Kızından beklentilerini topluma ve yargılarına göre şekillendiren bir anne ama bunun yanında şefkatini hiç bağı olmayan birine daha çok gösteren bir kadın..
Temelde çok düz şeyleri anlatsa da üzerine düşünülmesi gereken çok soru bırakıyor yazar Kim Hye Jin.
.
Tavsiye ederim!
.
Sevda Kul çevirisi, Hamdi Akçay kapak tasarımıyla ~
Hayatım boyunca bunun için çabaladım. İyi evlat. İyi kardeş. İyi eş. İyi anne. İyi komşu. Ve bir dönem de iyi öğretmen.
Gerçekten emek harcadım.
Başkalarıyla empati kurabilen biriyim.
Her konuda elimden gelenin en iyisini yaparım.
Yardımseverim.
Başkalarına anlayış gösteririm. Elbette herkese.
Düşünceli biriyim.
Ya da belki. Korkağın tekiyim. Hiçbir şey duymak istemeyen, risk almaktan kaçan, başkasının meselesine burnunu sokmayan biriyim. Etliye sütlüye karışmayan, kıyafetleri kirlenmesin diye hep kenarda duran biriyim. Duyulmak istenenleri söyleyen, görülmek istenen ifadeyi takınan, çaktırmadan geri adım atan kişiyim. Yine de iyi biri olmak mı istiyorum? Peki ya konu kızım olduğunda?’
.
Bu monolog uzun zamandır düşündüklerimin bir özeti gibi. İçimdekiler ile dışa yansıttıklarımın birbirinden ne kadar farklı olduğuna dair..
.
Kızım Hakkında Her Şey’e başladığımda bir ebeveyn hikayesi okuyacağımı düşünmüştüm ama okudukça şunu gördüm: hepimiz her gün bir savaşın ortasına çekiliyoruz. Çalışıyoruz, koşturuyoruz üstelik sürekli izleniyoruz, eleştiriliyor ve yargılanıyoruz. Kızım Hakkında Her Şey’de de bu savaşlar var. Kızından beklentilerini topluma ve yargılarına göre şekillendiren bir anne ama bunun yanında şefkatini hiç bağı olmayan birine daha çok gösteren bir kadın..
Temelde çok düz şeyleri anlatsa da üzerine düşünülmesi gereken çok soru bırakıyor yazar Kim Hye Jin.
.
Tavsiye ederim!
.
Sevda Kul çevirisi, Hamdi Akçay kapak tasarımıyla ~
May 20, 2022
Family oriented novels is some of my favorites to read and I was sure this was going to be at parts intense and bit emotional and it definitely delivered. This would have been a great book club read if I was in one
August 23, 2024
3.5 stars
(English title: Concerning My Daughter)
short review for busy readers: S. Korean novel about a widow in her 60s facing a number of problems, not the least of which is taking in her daughter and daughter's partner whose relationship she doesn't approve of. 1st person narration in episodes, not chapters. Our narrator does lot of introspective soul searching on many topics. Sudden switches between thought and action. The S. Korean setting stays in the background but provides strong cultural context. Written more in a western style than E. Asian.
in detail:
Our narrator, a widow in her 60s, is facing an entire phalanx of problems.
Her health is not what it once was. She's employed by a worker leasing company as a caretaker for the elderly (a world-wide problem it seems), and isn't making hardly enough to survive. Her patient in the rest home is slowly slipping into dementia and now her daughter and her daughter's partner have asked to come and live with her because they can't pay their rent any more.
There are a lot of themes in this novel, but I'd like to address one specific one in this review: meaning.
What things or people have meaning for us? Tsen, a famous, independent woman, is now elderly and in need of daily care. Because of her, the care facility has received a lot of publicity and gotten more patients. And yet, even though Tsen's paying large sums for her care, the admin wants our narrator to skimp on medical supplies and when Tsen begins to slip into dementia, ship her off to a place where it's hoped she'll simply die quickly.
This elderly woman has meaning for our unnamed narrator. She sees that not only is this woman worth of high respect for her life and achievements, but also what financial and advertising profits her simply being there has brought the facility.
Even in her dotage, Tsen has great influence and the ability to fascinate.
And yet, for the admin and other nurses, Tsen is just another backside to wipe. The narrator also sees herself in Tsen. What will happen to her when she's that far gone?
Green, the narrator's daughter, is a university lecturer and a political activist. When other lecturers at a uni she teaches at are fired for no reason (real reason: they're gay), she and others start a protest action, which escalates into violence.
For Green, who is gay herself, this fight has meaning. It could be she next on the uni chopping block, or anyone who is different. But her mother doesn't understand. Why put herself in danger for strangers? Why make such a loud fuss over something so many are in support of? Why does her daughter think anyone else in the world sees meaning in her protests or finds them at all important?
On the other hand, Green can't comprehend what is so meaningful about a dement, stinky old lady that her mother goes to such lengths for. After all, she's not family! Why the fuss?
The irony here is both Green and her mother are motivated by love. The mother doesn't want her daughter hurt or unhappy, and Green doesn't want to see her mother exhaust herself more than she already is and be unhappy. They have the same problem: incomprehension of what another finds meaning in, sees themself in, and is willing to go all out for...and that due to their own protective love.
It's a neatly drawn paradox.
Although I found this a slow read, I was appreciative that there was no big enlightenment scene where the mother suddenly realises her homophobia is wrong and runs out to join FFLAG or something. Much more realistically, she begins to wonder if her daughter can truly find happiness in a place and lifestyle she can't comprehend. Because it's not about conventional vs unconventional, it about happiness, about living a meaningful life, isn't it?
At the end, this is just starting to dawn on our narrator. We know she's got a long way to go, but she's taken the first steps. This won't satisfy those readers who like full closure to a story, but it works in context very well.
A quiet, contemplative work with a lot to say.
(English title: Concerning My Daughter)
short review for busy readers: S. Korean novel about a widow in her 60s facing a number of problems, not the least of which is taking in her daughter and daughter's partner whose relationship she doesn't approve of. 1st person narration in episodes, not chapters. Our narrator does lot of introspective soul searching on many topics. Sudden switches between thought and action. The S. Korean setting stays in the background but provides strong cultural context. Written more in a western style than E. Asian.
in detail:
Our narrator, a widow in her 60s, is facing an entire phalanx of problems.
Her health is not what it once was. She's employed by a worker leasing company as a caretaker for the elderly (a world-wide problem it seems), and isn't making hardly enough to survive. Her patient in the rest home is slowly slipping into dementia and now her daughter and her daughter's partner have asked to come and live with her because they can't pay their rent any more.
There are a lot of themes in this novel, but I'd like to address one specific one in this review: meaning.
What things or people have meaning for us? Tsen, a famous, independent woman, is now elderly and in need of daily care. Because of her, the care facility has received a lot of publicity and gotten more patients. And yet, even though Tsen's paying large sums for her care, the admin wants our narrator to skimp on medical supplies and when Tsen begins to slip into dementia, ship her off to a place where it's hoped she'll simply die quickly.
This elderly woman has meaning for our unnamed narrator. She sees that not only is this woman worth of high respect for her life and achievements, but also what financial and advertising profits her simply being there has brought the facility.
Even in her dotage, Tsen has great influence and the ability to fascinate.
And yet, for the admin and other nurses, Tsen is just another backside to wipe. The narrator also sees herself in Tsen. What will happen to her when she's that far gone?
Green, the narrator's daughter, is a university lecturer and a political activist. When other lecturers at a uni she teaches at are fired for no reason (real reason: they're gay), she and others start a protest action, which escalates into violence.
For Green, who is gay herself, this fight has meaning. It could be she next on the uni chopping block, or anyone who is different. But her mother doesn't understand. Why put herself in danger for strangers? Why make such a loud fuss over something so many are in support of? Why does her daughter think anyone else in the world sees meaning in her protests or finds them at all important?
On the other hand, Green can't comprehend what is so meaningful about a dement, stinky old lady that her mother goes to such lengths for. After all, she's not family! Why the fuss?
The irony here is both Green and her mother are motivated by love. The mother doesn't want her daughter hurt or unhappy, and Green doesn't want to see her mother exhaust herself more than she already is and be unhappy. They have the same problem: incomprehension of what another finds meaning in, sees themself in, and is willing to go all out for...and that due to their own protective love.
It's a neatly drawn paradox.
Although I found this a slow read, I was appreciative that there was no big enlightenment scene where the mother suddenly realises her homophobia is wrong and runs out to join FFLAG or something. Much more realistically, she begins to wonder if her daughter can truly find happiness in a place and lifestyle she can't comprehend. Because it's not about conventional vs unconventional, it about happiness, about living a meaningful life, isn't it?
At the end, this is just starting to dawn on our narrator. We know she's got a long way to go, but she's taken the first steps. This won't satisfy those readers who like full closure to a story, but it works in context very well.
A quiet, contemplative work with a lot to say.
January 31, 2024
This was such a sad and heartbreaking novel and I wasn't really prepared for it. It is told from the perspective of a Korean woman who has recently found out her daughter is a lesbian but just can't accept it. Through the book she constantly laments why she can't just find a husband to settle down with, despite her daughter having a girlfriend she is very much in love with. The homophobia the daughter experienced from her job and her mother was so horrible to read and I didn't expect to feel as emotionally affected by it as I was. It was just completely heartbreaking to see a mother act this way towards her daughter and not just accept her who who she is and want her to be happy. The mother also works at a care home and it is in looking after a childless but really smart and intelligent elderly woman here who has severe dementia that she begins to try and rectify her relationship with her daughter and the girlfriend.
I would definitely recommend this book but I think it's so sad and would definitely give content warnings for intense homophobia and the exploration of really damaged mother-daughter relationships. I've never read a book from the point of view from someone like this before so it's a really strange and shocking book to experience but one I definitely think is worth checking out.
I would definitely recommend this book but I think it's so sad and would definitely give content warnings for intense homophobia and the exploration of really damaged mother-daughter relationships. I've never read a book from the point of view from someone like this before so it's a really strange and shocking book to experience but one I definitely think is worth checking out.
March 31, 2023
Una lectura que toca diversos temas, pero el foco principal está en la idea de aceptación, tanto en el sentido orientación sexual, como sobre la vejez, los cambios, entre otras cosas. La novela me gustó muchísimo, y creo que mi parte favorita es la narración en primera persona por parte de la madre. Ver todo a través de sus ojos puede ser doloroso, triste y también terrorífico: se trata de una mujer en sus 70 que tiene que aceptar una realidad que no le agrada en lo absoluto. El desarrollo de su personaje y su vínculo con la hija me conmovió muchísimo.
Mi única observación negativa es que sentí que me faltó algo en el final. No sé, me pareció que el cierre fue un poco abrupto, que dejó algo inconcluso. Más allá de eso, es una lectura que disfruté y padecí en igual medida por las horribles situaciones que las tres mujeres de esta historia tienen que atravesar.
Mi única observación negativa es que sentí que me faltó algo en el final. No sé, me pareció que el cierre fue un poco abrupto, que dejó algo inconcluso. Más allá de eso, es una lectura que disfruté y padecí en igual medida por las horribles situaciones que las tres mujeres de esta historia tienen que atravesar.
February 21, 2025
Un personaje principal excelentemente construido, en ningún momento está historia o sus pensamientos se sienten inverosímiles. Es una novela simple pero que logra su propósito. Ojalá podamos leer más de esta autora.
En 2025 lo vuelvo a leer para mi club de lectura y me pregunto por qué el entendimiento se puede contraponer tanto al deseo.
En 2025 lo vuelvo a leer para mi club de lectura y me pregunto por qué el entendimiento se puede contraponer tanto al deseo.
June 7, 2024
3.25 stars
The fear a 70-year-old mother has for her 30-year-old lesbian daughter is portrayed in this short story. Her daughter resides with her mother in cohabitation with her girlfriend.
The novella follows the mother's journey as she struggles to reconcile her acceptance of her daughter's right to be accepted with her worry that she will end up alone.
We also get to observe the mother's life as a dedicated caregiver at a special needs facility, where she meets an elderly woman named Jen. The mother fears that her daughter will turn out to be like Jen.
At the same time, this literature is very plain, addressing very evident topics in a straightforward approach. The story is composed in a simple yet strict and effective manner.
Though none of these characters really stood out to me, I believe that this would have been a more engaging story if the narrative had only focused on the mother-daughter bond.
My primary concern with this is the repeated quote and procedure, which I can somewhat understand given that we are inside the narrator's head. However, given the simplicity of the work, it's also possible that the author used this as a writing trick to make it easier to write.
Still, if you're looking for a really quick read this Pride Month, I'd recommend it.
The fear a 70-year-old mother has for her 30-year-old lesbian daughter is portrayed in this short story. Her daughter resides with her mother in cohabitation with her girlfriend.
The novella follows the mother's journey as she struggles to reconcile her acceptance of her daughter's right to be accepted with her worry that she will end up alone.
We also get to observe the mother's life as a dedicated caregiver at a special needs facility, where she meets an elderly woman named Jen. The mother fears that her daughter will turn out to be like Jen.
At the same time, this literature is very plain, addressing very evident topics in a straightforward approach. The story is composed in a simple yet strict and effective manner.
Though none of these characters really stood out to me, I believe that this would have been a more engaging story if the narrative had only focused on the mother-daughter bond.
My primary concern with this is the repeated quote and procedure, which I can somewhat understand given that we are inside the narrator's head. However, given the simplicity of the work, it's also possible that the author used this as a writing trick to make it easier to write.
Still, if you're looking for a really quick read this Pride Month, I'd recommend it.
February 24, 2022
Do you have a sangju (상주)? The employee comes by with the itemized list of expenses and asks if we’ve picked a sangju, or chief mourner. I tell him we won’t be getting many visitors.
You will have to have a sangju. We have to put up the name, and we keep a record here as well.
I’ll do it, my daughter says.
Sangju is usually a man. Don’t you have any men around?
I am reminded of my daughter’s situation again as my face turns red.
What does it matter if it’s a man or a woman? Lane chimes in. There’s no law against it.
The employee looks at me. I nod. The thought that my sad, pathetic situation has been exposed again tears through me again. I walk down the hall of small funeral rooms packed in together and go outside.
Concerning my Daughter is Jamie Chang’s translation of 딸에대하여 by 김혜진 (Kim Hyejin).
Jamie Chang, who teaches at the prestigious 이대, was the translator of Kim Ji-young, born 1982.
김혜진 was (per the blurb) "born in Daegu, Korea, in 1983. She debuted in 2012 when her story ‘Chicken Run’ won Dong-A Ilbo’s Spring Literary Award. She won the Joongang Novel Prize for Joongang Station, and the Shin Dong-yup Prize for Literature for 딸에대하여."
The novel opens:
The server brings over two bowls of hot udon. I look at my daughter as she grabs chopsticks and spoons from the box of utensils. She looks tired, or thinner, or older.
You didn’t get my text? she asks.
I did. I was going to call, but I kept forgetting, I say. That’s a lie. I wore myself out racking my brain over her problem all weekend. And yet here I am, sitting across from her at a table without a single alternative suggestion or plan.
The narrator is a woman in her seventies, her daughter in her mid-30s. The narrator rents out the top floor of her modest home and her daughter, in needs of cash, suggests that the mother converts the tenants from paying monthly rent (월세) to the traditional Korean jeonse (전세) system where the tenant pays a large upfront deposit in lieu of rent, something the narrator is reluctant to do as the house is the only thing she has to show for all her many years of work, and she needs the rent to supplement her meagre income.
Labor without end. The thought that no one can save me from this exhausting work. Concern over what will happen when the moment comes when I cannot work anymore. In other words, what worries me isn’t death, but life. I must do whatever needs to be done to withstand this suffocating uncertainty that will be with me for as long as I am living. I learned this too late. Perhaps this is not about aging. Maybe it’s the malady of the times, as people say. Our times. This generation. Naturally, I am reminded of my daughter again. We have arrived at this point, her in her mid-thirties, me past seventy.
And the world that she will reach, that I won’t be around for – what will it look like? Better than this? Or more relentless?
The end solution is for the daughter to move in with her mother, but we realise the issue isn’t so much financial as social, as she brings “Lane”, her partner, for seven years, with her. “That girl” as the narrator refers to her, who is slow to realise and unable to accept that the two girls are in a long-term relationship and not just friends.
Why can’t you just accept me for who I am? I’m not asking you to agree with me on every little thing. Weren’t you the one who told me that there were all kinds of people in the world? Who live different lives? You said different wasn’t bad! You’re the one who taught me all that. How come these things never apply to me?
Because you’re my daughter! You are my child!
Her daughter, who Lane insists on calling by a nickname, Green, is embroiled in a protest at the university where she lectures, after a fellow lecturer was accused of promoting homosexuality and dismissed. The mother worries about her failing to settle down (aka in a heterosexual relationship) and have children, and focus on building her career rather than get involved in the dispute.
But meanwhile the mother gets involved in a dispute of her own. She is an agency worker as a carer as a facility for elderly patients, becoming particularly close to one, a woman in her 90s with a distinguished past, but now suffering from dementia and with no family. She ends up losing her job when she protests over the woman’s treatment, which triggers anxiety about her own fate, given her advancing years:
How do I explain that I see myself in that woman whose wrists and ankles are bound? How do I articulate such a vivid premonition? Is it her fault that she has nothing and no one? Am I seeing myself in her because I’ve given up hope of depending on my daughter in old age? Will I – and even my daughter – likewise find ourselves punished by a rude, wretched wait for death at the end of our interminable lives? How far will I go to avoid that?
An interesting character study of a very flawed of long-suffering narrator, with her good intentions, as she acknowledges, derailed by her tradition-based prejudices and expectations for her daughter. Although I found the story a little repetitive and the prose quoditian.
Thanks to the publisher via Netgalley for the ARC. 2.5 stars
You will have to have a sangju. We have to put up the name, and we keep a record here as well.
I’ll do it, my daughter says.
Sangju is usually a man. Don’t you have any men around?
I am reminded of my daughter’s situation again as my face turns red.
What does it matter if it’s a man or a woman? Lane chimes in. There’s no law against it.
The employee looks at me. I nod. The thought that my sad, pathetic situation has been exposed again tears through me again. I walk down the hall of small funeral rooms packed in together and go outside.
Concerning my Daughter is Jamie Chang’s translation of 딸에대하여 by 김혜진 (Kim Hyejin).
Jamie Chang, who teaches at the prestigious 이대, was the translator of Kim Ji-young, born 1982.
김혜진 was (per the blurb) "born in Daegu, Korea, in 1983. She debuted in 2012 when her story ‘Chicken Run’ won Dong-A Ilbo’s Spring Literary Award. She won the Joongang Novel Prize for Joongang Station, and the Shin Dong-yup Prize for Literature for 딸에대하여."
The novel opens:
The server brings over two bowls of hot udon. I look at my daughter as she grabs chopsticks and spoons from the box of utensils. She looks tired, or thinner, or older.
You didn’t get my text? she asks.
I did. I was going to call, but I kept forgetting, I say. That’s a lie. I wore myself out racking my brain over her problem all weekend. And yet here I am, sitting across from her at a table without a single alternative suggestion or plan.
The narrator is a woman in her seventies, her daughter in her mid-30s. The narrator rents out the top floor of her modest home and her daughter, in needs of cash, suggests that the mother converts the tenants from paying monthly rent (월세) to the traditional Korean jeonse (전세) system where the tenant pays a large upfront deposit in lieu of rent, something the narrator is reluctant to do as the house is the only thing she has to show for all her many years of work, and she needs the rent to supplement her meagre income.
Labor without end. The thought that no one can save me from this exhausting work. Concern over what will happen when the moment comes when I cannot work anymore. In other words, what worries me isn’t death, but life. I must do whatever needs to be done to withstand this suffocating uncertainty that will be with me for as long as I am living. I learned this too late. Perhaps this is not about aging. Maybe it’s the malady of the times, as people say. Our times. This generation. Naturally, I am reminded of my daughter again. We have arrived at this point, her in her mid-thirties, me past seventy.
And the world that she will reach, that I won’t be around for – what will it look like? Better than this? Or more relentless?
The end solution is for the daughter to move in with her mother, but we realise the issue isn’t so much financial as social, as she brings “Lane”, her partner, for seven years, with her. “That girl” as the narrator refers to her, who is slow to realise and unable to accept that the two girls are in a long-term relationship and not just friends.
Why can’t you just accept me for who I am? I’m not asking you to agree with me on every little thing. Weren’t you the one who told me that there were all kinds of people in the world? Who live different lives? You said different wasn’t bad! You’re the one who taught me all that. How come these things never apply to me?
Because you’re my daughter! You are my child!
Her daughter, who Lane insists on calling by a nickname, Green, is embroiled in a protest at the university where she lectures, after a fellow lecturer was accused of promoting homosexuality and dismissed. The mother worries about her failing to settle down (aka in a heterosexual relationship) and have children, and focus on building her career rather than get involved in the dispute.
But meanwhile the mother gets involved in a dispute of her own. She is an agency worker as a carer as a facility for elderly patients, becoming particularly close to one, a woman in her 90s with a distinguished past, but now suffering from dementia and with no family. She ends up losing her job when she protests over the woman’s treatment, which triggers anxiety about her own fate, given her advancing years:
How do I explain that I see myself in that woman whose wrists and ankles are bound? How do I articulate such a vivid premonition? Is it her fault that she has nothing and no one? Am I seeing myself in her because I’ve given up hope of depending on my daughter in old age? Will I – and even my daughter – likewise find ourselves punished by a rude, wretched wait for death at the end of our interminable lives? How far will I go to avoid that?
An interesting character study of a very flawed of long-suffering narrator, with her good intentions, as she acknowledges, derailed by her tradition-based prejudices and expectations for her daughter. Although I found the story a little repetitive and the prose quoditian.
Thanks to the publisher via Netgalley for the ARC. 2.5 stars
May 6, 2024
a mother and daughter divided by their generations. despite only being told through the mother’s perspective, Concerning My Daughter manages to find a balance in exploring both sides of the story, giving the reader an opportunity to scrutinize and empathize with both mother and daughter through its wandering-like narration. i like to think that this explores all three stages of womanhood: the maiden (the daughter), the mother (obviously, the mother), and the crone (the old woman the mother cares for in the nursing home). through multiple dips into these facets of life, it looks at both the beauty, tragedy and the eternal fear of loneliness that comes with being a woman. the more i study literature, the more i learn to appreciate shorter works. not just because they’re quicker reads, but for how much talent it requires to simplify the great magnitude that is life. i appreciate this novella in all its less than 200 pages for being able to express how painful it is to know our mothers and for telling me that it is equally painful for them to know their daughters.
May 21, 2022
2.5/5. I found this extremely frustrating to read which was definitely the point, but in this case, it felt grating and repetitive in a way that didn't entirely work for me.
April 12, 2023
4,5. La narradora y protagonista de “Sobre mi hija” es una mujer viuda que ya ha pasado la barrera de los sesenta y que se gana la vida trabajando en una residencia de ancianos. Allí cuida de Jen, una mujer famosa por luchar por los derechos de los demás en el pasado, y que ahora que la enfermedad la ha atrapado y sufre demencia, se halla sola, únicamente cuidada por esta otra mujer. Por otro lado, la narradora nos habla de su hija, de la falta de entendimiento entre ambas y de la “amiga especial” que desearía que nunca hubiera conocido, cuya existencia trata de ignorar lo máximo posible. Sin embargo, por cosas de la vida, acabarán viviendo las tres bajo el mismo techo, y el conflicto no tardará en aparecer.
“Sobre mi hija” es un libro breve en tamaño pero enorme en profundidad, uno de esos en los que se puede subrayar cada frase, cada palabra, que logra hablar sobre muchísimos temas, todos ellos entrelazados, y lo hace con tanto acierto que consigue agitar irremediablemente al lector. Entre los temas que toca, podemos destacar la homofobia, la precariedad laboral, el edadismo, la falta de empatía o las relaciones familiares y la dificultad para comunicarse y entenderse entre los miembros de una familia.
El retrato que mi Kim Hye-jin hace de su protagonista, de la hija de esta y del choque que ambas tienen, transmite verdad por todas partes. Rara vez me pasa que empatice tantísimo con personajes que defienden ideales anticuados o que tienen pensamientos o comentarios intolerantes tan brutales como los que muestra la protagonista, y que pese a todo, sea imposible sentir rechazo hacia ella, y que como lector estés deseando que aprenda, que comprenda. Casi como si quisieras que te comprendiera a ti mismo. Es increíble lo bien construida que está la protagonista.
Pese a que tiene muchos temas principales, que ahora tocaré, creo que el más importante es el que hace relación a la homofobia de la madre hacia la hija, y creo que es el tema que más destaca, no porque sea el único central, porque lo son varios, sino porque es el único que se toca de manera diferente. Mientras que temas como el desprecio a las personas de cierta edad o el esclavitud laboral reciben una crítica directa a través de su protagonista, de sus reflexiones y sus quejas, la homofobia es criticada a través de la intolerancia e ignorancia de ella misma, fruto de su educación y de una cultura que enseña a vivir dando más importancia a la opinión social, que a la felicidad propia o de los seres queridos. Por eso choca la cantidad de comentarios horribles que la madre suelta sobre su hija, sobre su nuera o sobre la homosexualidad en general, pero la autora sabe crear bien ese personaje, para que el lector, aún horrorizándose de lo que piensa, pueda entender su circunstancia e ir asistiendo poco a poco al avance y a la apertura de su mente. No de forma tan rápida como nos gustaría y llena de contradicciones, eso sí, pero demostrando perfectamente la confusión mental por la que está pasando la madre.
La parte más emotiva de la historia la vivimos con la relación entre la protagonista y Jen, la anciana de la residencia. Son constantes las reflexiones sobre como la sociedad aparta a las personas mayores, considerándolos inservibles, sobre como los hijos olvidan en ocasiones a sus padres, siendo estos, muchas veces, dejados en malas condiciones y sin nadie que los defienda. Esto no es algo que pase solo en Corea del Sur, creo que en mayor o en menor medida en todas partes se dan circunstancias similares, por lo cual es muy fácil empatizar con la unión de estas dos mujeres. Hay muchísimos momentos tristes que te llenan de impotencia y que han hecho que derrame algunas lagrimillas en más de una ocasión.
Además de estos dos pilares tan importantes, también nos encontramos ante una crítica brutal a la precariedad laboral, a como personas muy mayores, incluso enfermas, deben trabajar por un sueldo indigno para subsistir, a sabiendas de que tendrán que hacerlo hasta que mueran, destrozando su salud por el camino, otra cosa fácilmente reconocible en cualquier lugar. También se habla mucho, de la que para mí puede ser la razón principal de la mayoría de los conflictos de la protagonista, la incapacidad para expresarse delante de los demás, abrirse a otros y tratar de llegar a un entendimiento común. Esto último, sí que es algo cultural y que se encuentra mucho en la literatura asiática.
“Sobre mi hija” es un libro impecable, una historia dura que te crea impotencia, pero que también te hace empatizar, que consigue entristecerte, mostrándote lo mucho que aún queda por hacer, pero también intentando trazar un camino a seguir. Es un libro que me ha perturbado muchas veces durante la lectura, ya que tenía la habilidad de hacerme sentir todo este revoltijo de emociones en una sola página. No quisiera yo aventurarme demasiado pero, salvando las distancias, tuve una conexión parecida con este libro a la que tuve cuando leí “La vegetariana” de Han Kang. Asi que necesito ya más obras de Kim Hye-jin, por favor.
“Sobre mi hija” es un libro breve en tamaño pero enorme en profundidad, uno de esos en los que se puede subrayar cada frase, cada palabra, que logra hablar sobre muchísimos temas, todos ellos entrelazados, y lo hace con tanto acierto que consigue agitar irremediablemente al lector. Entre los temas que toca, podemos destacar la homofobia, la precariedad laboral, el edadismo, la falta de empatía o las relaciones familiares y la dificultad para comunicarse y entenderse entre los miembros de una familia.
El retrato que mi Kim Hye-jin hace de su protagonista, de la hija de esta y del choque que ambas tienen, transmite verdad por todas partes. Rara vez me pasa que empatice tantísimo con personajes que defienden ideales anticuados o que tienen pensamientos o comentarios intolerantes tan brutales como los que muestra la protagonista, y que pese a todo, sea imposible sentir rechazo hacia ella, y que como lector estés deseando que aprenda, que comprenda. Casi como si quisieras que te comprendiera a ti mismo. Es increíble lo bien construida que está la protagonista.
Pese a que tiene muchos temas principales, que ahora tocaré, creo que el más importante es el que hace relación a la homofobia de la madre hacia la hija, y creo que es el tema que más destaca, no porque sea el único central, porque lo son varios, sino porque es el único que se toca de manera diferente. Mientras que temas como el desprecio a las personas de cierta edad o el esclavitud laboral reciben una crítica directa a través de su protagonista, de sus reflexiones y sus quejas, la homofobia es criticada a través de la intolerancia e ignorancia de ella misma, fruto de su educación y de una cultura que enseña a vivir dando más importancia a la opinión social, que a la felicidad propia o de los seres queridos. Por eso choca la cantidad de comentarios horribles que la madre suelta sobre su hija, sobre su nuera o sobre la homosexualidad en general, pero la autora sabe crear bien ese personaje, para que el lector, aún horrorizándose de lo que piensa, pueda entender su circunstancia e ir asistiendo poco a poco al avance y a la apertura de su mente. No de forma tan rápida como nos gustaría y llena de contradicciones, eso sí, pero demostrando perfectamente la confusión mental por la que está pasando la madre.
La parte más emotiva de la historia la vivimos con la relación entre la protagonista y Jen, la anciana de la residencia. Son constantes las reflexiones sobre como la sociedad aparta a las personas mayores, considerándolos inservibles, sobre como los hijos olvidan en ocasiones a sus padres, siendo estos, muchas veces, dejados en malas condiciones y sin nadie que los defienda. Esto no es algo que pase solo en Corea del Sur, creo que en mayor o en menor medida en todas partes se dan circunstancias similares, por lo cual es muy fácil empatizar con la unión de estas dos mujeres. Hay muchísimos momentos tristes que te llenan de impotencia y que han hecho que derrame algunas lagrimillas en más de una ocasión.
Además de estos dos pilares tan importantes, también nos encontramos ante una crítica brutal a la precariedad laboral, a como personas muy mayores, incluso enfermas, deben trabajar por un sueldo indigno para subsistir, a sabiendas de que tendrán que hacerlo hasta que mueran, destrozando su salud por el camino, otra cosa fácilmente reconocible en cualquier lugar. También se habla mucho, de la que para mí puede ser la razón principal de la mayoría de los conflictos de la protagonista, la incapacidad para expresarse delante de los demás, abrirse a otros y tratar de llegar a un entendimiento común. Esto último, sí que es algo cultural y que se encuentra mucho en la literatura asiática.
“Sobre mi hija” es un libro impecable, una historia dura que te crea impotencia, pero que también te hace empatizar, que consigue entristecerte, mostrándote lo mucho que aún queda por hacer, pero también intentando trazar un camino a seguir. Es un libro que me ha perturbado muchas veces durante la lectura, ya que tenía la habilidad de hacerme sentir todo este revoltijo de emociones en una sola página. No quisiera yo aventurarme demasiado pero, salvando las distancias, tuve una conexión parecida con este libro a la que tuve cuando leí “La vegetariana” de Han Kang. Asi que necesito ya más obras de Kim Hye-jin, por favor.
August 8, 2020
Đối với mình, nó xứng đáng 5 sao. Một cuốn sách tuy ngắn nhưng vô cùng sâu sắc, nó giúp mình hiểu về cái nhìn của mẹ hơn lúc mình came out với bà, mình đã từng nghĩ rất nông cạn là tại sao mẹ lại phải cố lờ đi như thế, tại sao? tại sao? tại sao?
February 8, 2023
a culturally significant piece of literature, but one that i did not find particularly exceptional or arresting.
July 16, 2023
Zafascynowała mnie w tej książce przede wszystkim prawdziwa i bezpośrednia perspektywa matki oraz jej relacja z córką.
January 3, 2025
anne-kız anlatılarını çok seviyorum. bu kitap da sevdiğim bir örneği oldu. olup biteni hep anneden dinlediğimiz, anneye hak vermek ve ondan anlayış beklemek arasında seksek oynadığımız bir metindi. kadın olmak, işsiz olmak, eşcinsel olmak, yaşlı olmak gibi bir sürü "azınlık" olma hâlinin iç içe geçmesini çok sevdim. spoiler olur mu emin değilim ama sonunda mucizevi bir dayanışma görmemek de çok gerçekti, iyi ki "ve sonsuza dek mutlu yaşadılar" görmedik. birbirimizi tam olarak anlamadan da yan yana durabiliriz, ve zaten durmalıyız?
son olarak kore ile ne kadar benzer toplumsal dinamiklerimiz olduğunu unutuyorum bazen. kitap türkiye'de de geçse kültürel bağlamda o kadar az değişikliğe ihtiyaç duyardı ki.
son olarak kore ile ne kadar benzer toplumsal dinamiklerimiz olduğunu unutuyorum bazen. kitap türkiye'de de geçse kültürel bağlamda o kadar az değişikliğe ihtiyaç duyardı ki.
September 10, 2024
I listened to this mother-daughter story in between my reading of The Poems of Octavio Paz and Wartime Diary by Simone de Beauvoir. It was the right reprieve to lengthy reading, and I found the performance by the reader to be spectacularly soothing.
This novella is a contemplative read laced with nuanced subtleties and I loved it chiefly for that reason. The mother, a hardworking Korean mom who finds herself adhering to societal norms while toiling away at a facility for elderly and sick, tells the story pensively, as she reflects on her life choices. She wonders if she has made the right decisions; she considers how poorly life has treated her; she ponders the unfairness of life and those thoughts are transferred positively to her patient, a former diplomat who is treated unfairly in the nursing home. The mother gives extra attention to this patient whose life trajectory she admires and believes that she should be cared for with grace.
The mother is older, tired, depressed, and yet she must work to continue her way of life. All of this is compounded when her grown daughter asks to move back home with her because she has lost her job. She is resentful—here she is, working and tired, and now she must work for two. Still, she sticks to her duty as a mother and welcomes her daughter. But her daughter is not moving home alone, she is also bringing her partner. Not only does the mother need to have enough resources to provide for two, she must now also condone a homosexual relationship she does not believe in. She ignores her daughter’s partner, even treats her unfairly. Her daughter’s partner shows her grace, more grace than necessary because the mother is foul to her, close-minded.
Yet, just as life burdens the mother, it unburdens her mind, her way of thought, her prejudice. She begins to understand the weightiness of invisibility and the harm that could come to her daughter simply for being who she is. The story morphs into subtle twists and turns, with lessons that are gracefully executed, and empathetic views of each character. It was a worthwhile five-hour listen.
This novella is a contemplative read laced with nuanced subtleties and I loved it chiefly for that reason. The mother, a hardworking Korean mom who finds herself adhering to societal norms while toiling away at a facility for elderly and sick, tells the story pensively, as she reflects on her life choices. She wonders if she has made the right decisions; she considers how poorly life has treated her; she ponders the unfairness of life and those thoughts are transferred positively to her patient, a former diplomat who is treated unfairly in the nursing home. The mother gives extra attention to this patient whose life trajectory she admires and believes that she should be cared for with grace.
The mother is older, tired, depressed, and yet she must work to continue her way of life. All of this is compounded when her grown daughter asks to move back home with her because she has lost her job. She is resentful—here she is, working and tired, and now she must work for two. Still, she sticks to her duty as a mother and welcomes her daughter. But her daughter is not moving home alone, she is also bringing her partner. Not only does the mother need to have enough resources to provide for two, she must now also condone a homosexual relationship she does not believe in. She ignores her daughter’s partner, even treats her unfairly. Her daughter’s partner shows her grace, more grace than necessary because the mother is foul to her, close-minded.
Yet, just as life burdens the mother, it unburdens her mind, her way of thought, her prejudice. She begins to understand the weightiness of invisibility and the harm that could come to her daughter simply for being who she is. The story morphs into subtle twists and turns, with lessons that are gracefully executed, and empathetic views of each character. It was a worthwhile five-hour listen.
April 25, 2022
*Thank you to Books That Matter for sending me their April box that had this book in to review!*
I had no idea what to expect from this book, but it was so beautifully done and really made me contemplate several things. The writing (or translation should I say) was beautiful and in a style that I personally really connect and engage with.
There are a lot of themes in here that made me sit and contemplate several times. It goes a lot over ageing and motherhood, sexuality, shame as well as cultural and societal expectations. These are also coupled with generational differences and exploring familial and working relationships and caring for vulnerable people. This book itself felt quite vulnerable and honest. It made me think about things I’ve never considered before, as well as offering different perspectives on issues. While the narrator was at times frustrating and disagreeable, being in her head and seeing her reasoning for her beliefs and feelings and actions was very interesting.
I liked the growth that this book and the characters in it had. As its so character focused, the plot is quite minimal but it remains engaging. The mundane day-to-day life of these characters was made to feel interesting and I actually cared about what was happening to them. It’s written in quite a raw way, and the long stretches of internal monologue are great for really getting inside someone's head and seeing how they’re perceiving events and how it’s having an impact on them.
I really liked this one, despite the fact that it was tough to read in sections and quite heavy and emotional to wade through. Considering it was such a short piece, it really packed a punch with what it was saying and had some interesting outlooks on the themes it explored through it. One I’ll definitely be recommending in the future. If you’re not a fan of books without speech marks though, this might drive you up the wall. But I really like that style of writing.
I had no idea what to expect from this book, but it was so beautifully done and really made me contemplate several things. The writing (or translation should I say) was beautiful and in a style that I personally really connect and engage with.
There are a lot of themes in here that made me sit and contemplate several times. It goes a lot over ageing and motherhood, sexuality, shame as well as cultural and societal expectations. These are also coupled with generational differences and exploring familial and working relationships and caring for vulnerable people. This book itself felt quite vulnerable and honest. It made me think about things I’ve never considered before, as well as offering different perspectives on issues. While the narrator was at times frustrating and disagreeable, being in her head and seeing her reasoning for her beliefs and feelings and actions was very interesting.
I liked the growth that this book and the characters in it had. As its so character focused, the plot is quite minimal but it remains engaging. The mundane day-to-day life of these characters was made to feel interesting and I actually cared about what was happening to them. It’s written in quite a raw way, and the long stretches of internal monologue are great for really getting inside someone's head and seeing how they’re perceiving events and how it’s having an impact on them.
I really liked this one, despite the fact that it was tough to read in sections and quite heavy and emotional to wade through. Considering it was such a short piece, it really packed a punch with what it was saying and had some interesting outlooks on the themes it explored through it. One I’ll definitely be recommending in the future. If you’re not a fan of books without speech marks though, this might drive you up the wall. But I really like that style of writing.
May 9, 2023
Τα γηρατειά τα φοβάμαι. Όχι δεν φοβάμαι τη φθορά του σώματος, το σακουλιασμένο δέρμα, τις ρυτίδες και την αδυναμία. Φοβάμαι τη φθορά του μυαλού. Φοβάμαι μη και ξεχασω, όλα όσα έζησα. Τους ανθρώπους μου, τις στιγμές μας.
Το βιβλίο "η κόρη μου", ήταν ένα βιβλίο που με
τσάκισε για δυο λόγους. Πρώτον γιατί παρουσίαζε το κομμάτι των γηρατειών και δεύτερον γιατί παρουσίαζε τη σχέση μαμάς και κόρης.
Στο κομμάτι των γηρατειών πολλές φορές αισθάνθηκα ένα σφίξιμο στο στομάχι. Ο τρόπος με τον οποίο η πρωταγωνίστρια παρουσιάζει ότι μεγαλώνει είναι μοναδικός. Η σκηνή που μπαίνει σε ένα κατάστημα και έχει μόνο νέους ανθρώπους και αισθάνεται ότι είναι διαφορετική, ότι δεν ανήκει εκεί και ότι θα τη διώξουν μου μετέδωσε ένα απίστευτο συναίσθημα, για το πως αντιλαμβανομαστε τη φθορά του χρόνου.
Στο δεύτερο κομμάτι, αυτό της γονεικοτητας με έκανε να αναρωτηθώ για το πόσες φορές εμείς οι γονείς πιστεύουμε οτι τα κάνουμε τα πράγματα σωστά αλλά τελικά σωστά για ποιον; για εμάς ή για τα παιδιά μας;
Ποτέ θα συνειδητοποιήσουμε οτι τα παιδιά μας δεν είναι παιδιά μας, δεν μας ανήκουν. Και ποτέ θα πάψουμε να θεωρουμε πιο σημαντικό το τι θα πει η ρημάδα η κοινωνία από το τι αισθανομαστε εμείς.
5 ⭐️
Το βιβλίο "η κόρη μου", ήταν ένα βιβλίο που με
τσάκισε για δυο λόγους. Πρώτον γιατί παρουσίαζε το κομμάτι των γηρατειών και δεύτερον γιατί παρουσίαζε τη σχέση μαμάς και κόρης.
Στο κομμάτι των γηρατειών πολλές φορές αισθάνθηκα ένα σφίξιμο στο στομάχι. Ο τρόπος με τον οποίο η πρωταγωνίστρια παρουσιάζει ότι μεγαλώνει είναι μοναδικός. Η σκηνή που μπαίνει σε ένα κατάστημα και έχει μόνο νέους ανθρώπους και αισθάνεται ότι είναι διαφορετική, ότι δεν ανήκει εκεί και ότι θα τη διώξουν μου μετέδωσε ένα απίστευτο συναίσθημα, για το πως αντιλαμβανομαστε τη φθορά του χρόνου.
Στο δεύτερο κομμάτι, αυτό της γονεικοτητας με έκανε να αναρωτηθώ για το πόσες φορές εμείς οι γονείς πιστεύουμε οτι τα κάνουμε τα πράγματα σωστά αλλά τελικά σωστά για ποιον; για εμάς ή για τα παιδιά μας;
Ποτέ θα συνειδητοποιήσουμε οτι τα παιδιά μας δεν είναι παιδιά μας, δεν μας ανήκουν. Και ποτέ θα πάψουμε να θεωρουμε πιο σημαντικό το τι θα πει η ρημάδα η κοινωνία από το τι αισθανομαστε εμείς.
5 ⭐️
December 11, 2024
4,5 ⭐
La novela está contada por la madre, viuda que ya pasa los sesenta, y que, junto con su marido se han esforzado y sacrificado para ofrecer lo mejor a su hija, y tener una vejez con cierta tranquilidad.
Para mejorar sus ingresos, trabaja en un establecimiento para ancianos privado, donde va creciendo su indignación por el maltrato y descuido de los ancianos, para favorecer su lógica comercial mezquina; esto, para alguien de su generación y su formación cultural, es casi un sacrilegio.
Mientras lidia con los desencuentros permanentes con su hija, a quien le reprocha que después de tanto que hicieron por ella, en lugar de elegir una carrera próspera, un marido y una familia, se dedica a ser profesora, con un puesto temporal, en la Universidad; y desde ese lugar estar casi permanentemente participando de manifestaciones contra las políticas de la Universidad, en particular contra su última decisión que fue la de expulsar a los profesores abiertamente homosexuales. Pero el mayor problema con a su hija, que tiene atragantado y que no logra superar, y que trata de negar e ignorar, es su condición de homosexual, que está desde hace siete años conviviendo con su pareja.
“Cuándo me enteré que la persona a quien mi hija le escribía, y con quién hablaba era una chica, decidí no entrometerme, porque así pasa a veces entre las jovencitas. Cuándo se fue a la universidad y comenzó a vivir sola, había algunas cosas que me parecían raras, pero decidí ignorar las señales y mantenerme al margen. Quizá fue entonces que nos distanciamos tanto que después yo ya no pude hacer nada al respecto.”
Su hija se encuentra en problemas con su vivienda: ante un inminente desalojo, no logra acceder a un crédito para comprar, ya que es trabajadora temporal; ni tampoco a una vivienda social, porque no es una persona carenciada. Por lo que termina viviendo, con su pareja en el departamento de su madre; y a pesar de la extrema amabilidad de la pareja de su hija, se inicia una difícil convivencia.
“Ahora mismo no soy quien para hacerle rendir cuentas. Ya se acabó la época en que ese era un derecho incuestionable por el simple hecho de haber traído hijos al mundo. Ahora es algo que debe actualizarse de forma constante y yo ya no tengo la energía ni la capacidad de hacerlo.”
Mientras tanto la actividad militante de su hija, irá llevando gradualmente a situaciones cada vez más graves y violentas, y pondrán a prueba a los protagonistas.
“- No hay nada que comprender. Tampoco es algo que debamos pedir que comprendan. Es nada menos que un derecho que todos tienen desde el momento en que nacen. Además de que la vida privada debe estar separada de lo laboral. ¿Acaso es mucho pedir? Que no se mezcle lo privado con lo laboral, que se protejan los derechos básicos de los profesores. Es lo mínimo que deberíamos tener.”
Una muy buena novela, en la que la narradora opta por la perspectiva de la madre, haciéndolo así más rico e interesante. Y presenta algunos malestares de la vida coreana, que combina ciertos hábitos conservadores, un fuerte autoritarismo y una forma de capitalismo de las más crueles. Y por sobre todo, el debilitamiento de las redes sociales de afecto, respeto y solidaridad.
Kim Hye-jin nació en Daegu, Corea, en 1983, y ha sido cálidamente elogiada por Han Kang.
La novela está contada por la madre, viuda que ya pasa los sesenta, y que, junto con su marido se han esforzado y sacrificado para ofrecer lo mejor a su hija, y tener una vejez con cierta tranquilidad.
Para mejorar sus ingresos, trabaja en un establecimiento para ancianos privado, donde va creciendo su indignación por el maltrato y descuido de los ancianos, para favorecer su lógica comercial mezquina; esto, para alguien de su generación y su formación cultural, es casi un sacrilegio.
Mientras lidia con los desencuentros permanentes con su hija, a quien le reprocha que después de tanto que hicieron por ella, en lugar de elegir una carrera próspera, un marido y una familia, se dedica a ser profesora, con un puesto temporal, en la Universidad; y desde ese lugar estar casi permanentemente participando de manifestaciones contra las políticas de la Universidad, en particular contra su última decisión que fue la de expulsar a los profesores abiertamente homosexuales. Pero el mayor problema con a su hija, que tiene atragantado y que no logra superar, y que trata de negar e ignorar, es su condición de homosexual, que está desde hace siete años conviviendo con su pareja.
“Cuándo me enteré que la persona a quien mi hija le escribía, y con quién hablaba era una chica, decidí no entrometerme, porque así pasa a veces entre las jovencitas. Cuándo se fue a la universidad y comenzó a vivir sola, había algunas cosas que me parecían raras, pero decidí ignorar las señales y mantenerme al margen. Quizá fue entonces que nos distanciamos tanto que después yo ya no pude hacer nada al respecto.”
Su hija se encuentra en problemas con su vivienda: ante un inminente desalojo, no logra acceder a un crédito para comprar, ya que es trabajadora temporal; ni tampoco a una vivienda social, porque no es una persona carenciada. Por lo que termina viviendo, con su pareja en el departamento de su madre; y a pesar de la extrema amabilidad de la pareja de su hija, se inicia una difícil convivencia.
“Ahora mismo no soy quien para hacerle rendir cuentas. Ya se acabó la época en que ese era un derecho incuestionable por el simple hecho de haber traído hijos al mundo. Ahora es algo que debe actualizarse de forma constante y yo ya no tengo la energía ni la capacidad de hacerlo.”
Mientras tanto la actividad militante de su hija, irá llevando gradualmente a situaciones cada vez más graves y violentas, y pondrán a prueba a los protagonistas.
“- No hay nada que comprender. Tampoco es algo que debamos pedir que comprendan. Es nada menos que un derecho que todos tienen desde el momento en que nacen. Además de que la vida privada debe estar separada de lo laboral. ¿Acaso es mucho pedir? Que no se mezcle lo privado con lo laboral, que se protejan los derechos básicos de los profesores. Es lo mínimo que deberíamos tener.”
Una muy buena novela, en la que la narradora opta por la perspectiva de la madre, haciéndolo así más rico e interesante. Y presenta algunos malestares de la vida coreana, que combina ciertos hábitos conservadores, un fuerte autoritarismo y una forma de capitalismo de las más crueles. Y por sobre todo, el debilitamiento de las redes sociales de afecto, respeto y solidaridad.
Kim Hye-jin nació en Daegu, Corea, en 1983, y ha sido cálidamente elogiada por Han Kang.
June 1, 2023
Nu am putut s-o las din mână. Deși are o scriitură simplă, cartea e de multe ori zguduitoare, scoțând în față probleme grave ale societății coreene, care sunt general-valabile, de fapt, pentru toată lumea actuală așa-zis civilizată.
"Oare când voi putea să ridic și eu vocea și să spun cu voce tare astfel de cuvinte? Voi fi vreodată în stare să-mi exprim fricile și tristețile, să povestesc despre situațiile în care m-am simțit trădată, în care am fost furioasă sau în care m-au lăsat toate puterile? Va veni vreodată ziua în care să pot recunoaște cu putere că astfel de persoane stau în picioare, verticale, în mijlocul unei lumi necruțătoare?"
"Oare când voi putea să ridic și eu vocea și să spun cu voce tare astfel de cuvinte? Voi fi vreodată în stare să-mi exprim fricile și tristețile, să povestesc despre situațiile în care m-am simțit trădată, în care am fost furioasă sau în care m-au lăsat toate puterile? Va veni vreodată ziua în care să pot recunoaște cu putere că astfel de persoane stau în picioare, verticale, în mijlocul unei lumi necruțătoare?"
April 2, 2022
Mutter und Tochter könnten auf den ersten Blick nicht unterschiedlicher sein: die Mutter ist Pflegerin in einem Seniorenheim, führt(e) ein bescheidenes Leben, immer mit dem Fokus, dass sie und ihre Tochter gut über die Runden kommen. Mit nun über 30 Jahren hat die Tochter immer noch keinen Mann, sondern seit sieben Jahren eine Freundin, kein geregeltes Einkommen und geht demonstrieren, um sich für eine bessere Gesellschaft einzusetzen.
Die Konflikte sind natürlich vorprogrammiert nachdem die Tochter mit Freundin bei der Mutter einzieht. Allerdings entwickelte sich für mich persönlich der Roman zu einer tiefgründigen und realen Situation. Die Darstellung der Figuren auf 172 Seiten fand ich sehr interessant. Die Schicksalsschläge und alltäglichen Situationen laden die Protagonisten zum Innehalten und Reflektieren veralteter Gedankenmuster ein. Vor allem die Mutter-Tochter-Beziehung und die Dialoge hat die Autorin wunderbar herausgearbeitet.
Gern und hoffentlich mehr von Kim Hye-Jin!
Absolute Leseempfehlung.
Die Konflikte sind natürlich vorprogrammiert nachdem die Tochter mit Freundin bei der Mutter einzieht. Allerdings entwickelte sich für mich persönlich der Roman zu einer tiefgründigen und realen Situation. Die Darstellung der Figuren auf 172 Seiten fand ich sehr interessant. Die Schicksalsschläge und alltäglichen Situationen laden die Protagonisten zum Innehalten und Reflektieren veralteter Gedankenmuster ein. Vor allem die Mutter-Tochter-Beziehung und die Dialoge hat die Autorin wunderbar herausgearbeitet.
Gern und hoffentlich mehr von Kim Hye-Jin!
Absolute Leseempfehlung.
October 23, 2022
Kitabı, Koreya ədəbiyyatından tərcüməyə uyğun olarmı, düşüncəsiylə oxumağa başlamışdım, mövzunun LGBT olfuğundan xəbərim yox idi. İlk 30 səhifə sonra mövzunu anladım, - bu bizim bazara giriləsi kitab deyil, - deyib kənara qoydum. Amma nə qədər çalışsam da, kitab fikrimdən çıxmadı. İlişdi qaldı, oxumağa davam elədim. Müəllifə alqış düşür, hekayəni bizə çox yaxşı çatdırır.. Dilimizə belə kitabən gəlişi və uğuru barədə şübhə içindəyəm, amma bu kitabı oxumağı uyğun bilirəm.. Məncə, imkan düşəndə oxunulmalıdı. Ədəbi şedevr heç nə yoxdu, hekayə sadədi, personajların düşüncə biçimi sadədi, amma müəllif sadə şeylərlə gözəl iş görə bilib. Düşündürür.
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