I'll Love You Forever: Notes from a K-Pop Fan

by Giaae Kwon

Jia Tolentino’s Trick Mirror meets Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings in a meditation that blends memoir and cultural criticism to explore how the author’s love affair with K-pop has shaped her sense of self, charting K-pop’s complex coming-of-age through some of its biggest idols.

I’ll Love You Notes from a K-Pop Fan is a smart, poignant, constantly surprising essay collection that considers the collision between stratospherically popular music and our inescapably personal selves. Giaae Kwon delves into the influence of K-pop artists, from H.O.T. to Taeyeon to IU to Suga of BTS, and reveals how each illuminated and shaped her own life.

In using intimate experiences to examine larger cultural topics, this singular work breaks new ground in its consideration of K-pop. I’ll Love You Forever blends the critical with the personal while spanning the history of K-pop from the perspective of a bilingual and bicultural Korean American. Kwon interweaves profiles of different K-pop idols with topics such as Korea’s obsession with academics, and its attitudes toward plastic surgery, and female sexuality, among others. Combining insightful critique and adoring analysis, I’ll Love You Forever provides listeners with a fuller picture of a culturally and socially complex industry and the machine and heart behind its popularity. Above all, Kwon offers up the passion of a superfan, finding joy in K-pop along the way.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Essays, Music, Audiobook, Pop Culture, History

Audible Audio

First published March 18, 2025

Reviews

[Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars

Overall I really enjoyed this book. As a Vietnamese American who was raised near a Korean church community in northern Virginia, I also grew up with and still listen to a lot of K-Pop. I thought Giaae Kwon did a nice job of writing with nuance about several K-Pop related topics including body image, misogyny, and mental health. I appreciated how she showed her adoration and respect for the genre while still applying a critical lens in her analysis.

I think where this memoir shined the most was when Kwon wrote about her personal life. For example, I was moved by her vulnerability when she wrote about dropping out of school twice and lying about it. I also resonated with her when she wrote about being almost 40 and not feeling like she had her life all figured out, especially in regard to society’s traditional benchmarks of success (e.g., career, amatonormative romantic partner, etc.) In reading Kwon’s self-reflection, it felt clear to me that this is someone who’s worked on herself and has gained self-awareness and self-insight through healing from her pain.

I did perceive at times that some of the connections Kwon made between her own life and K-Pop were a bit tenuous; it seemed that she was trying to stick to the structure of writing about K-Pop even when it didn’t always fit. But, I can see why she did that given the packaging of this book. In sum, an enjoyable book. Even though the analysis may not blow you away if you’re at all deep in the K-Pop discourse like myself, you may still find comfort in Kwon’s writing and honesty.

[Traci Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is such a lovely reflection on art and self. I enjoyed learning about K Pop but struggled to really grasp the references. The writing reads as casual which I was impressed by because that conversational tone can feel cheap in memoir, but not here. It’s very enjoyable— like a convo with a smart friend but not a pretentious one. Kwon is genuine and eager and that is nice to spend time with.

[Dun's · Rating 4 out of 5]

Giaae Kwon's I'll Love You Forever is a very well-written essay collection that combines the writer's experiences as a K-Pop fan and a Korean American, and her thoughtful perspectives of South Korea's history, cultural norms, and social issues. She also openly described about her mental health struggles and navigating her intersectional identities. Through this book, I learned about the less glittery part of K-Pop... the constant pressure to perform, the unspoken demand of staying single, the parasocial relationship (a new term for me), and the fan loyalty - not only to a specific artist or a band, but also to the record label that produces these artists.

You don't have to be familiar with K-Pop music to enjoy I'll Love You Forever. My current knowledge about K-Pop is limited to observing some friends and family members who follow BTS. (I did watch some South Korea TV series including Reply 1997 that the author cited, though Reply 1988 is my all-time favorite 😊). The part of the book that I enjoyed the most was Kwon's commentary about South Korea's current social and cultural issues, especially regarding the importance of family, community, and academic achievements. Being of Asian descent albeit not East Asian, these issues resonate with me.

Many thanks for the ARC I received in a Goodreads giveaway. Expected publication date: March 18, 2025.

[Sarah Swann · Rating 2 out of 5]

This one started out very promising. I was getting some information about the KPop industry and some bands I had not heard of. But as the book kept going, the author went into major political and religious criticisms all about her opinion on them. I understand including some of that to help shape your story, but it was ALOT and the book felt more like it was about that instead of the KPop industry. I lost interest and ended up skimming through when she began to speak of politics or religion.

Huge thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an early copy to read!

[Jennifer · Rating 1 out of 5]

So much simmering rage and bitterness in one place.  So much judgment. So much condescension.  So much repetition.  If I had to take a shot everytime I read a certain phrase or three, then I'd probably be dead from alcohol poisoning.  


I guess I could recommend it for anyone who wants an idea of what k-pop twt has been like since the pandemic began.  A lot of what I encountered in this book I first encountered over there.  Although I don't know why anyone would be interested in that.  K-pop twt is a cesspool most of the time.  This book didn't feel like an improvement in any way, and I had to pay actual, real-life money for it to boot.  I did think about asking for a refund somewhere around the halfway point, but I carried on out of sheer spite.  And now I'm free.

[yush · Rating 3 out of 5]

truly truly wished i liked this more, i thought the synopsis was so fun and fascinating, but i was disappointed! i did NOT want to be a hater!!!!

i think the biggest reason i didn’t connect with this book as much as i hoped to was the lack of specificity. the essays are for the most part fairly general and superficial, each spanning years of korean and kpop history alongside personal reflections. some very surface-level cultural criticism, like yes gender IS a social construct.... so much information was being put into each essay, and it felt like they kept losing track of the original point. the essay about tvxq was about anti-queer sentiment and deconstructing homophobia in christianity and for some reason, in the middle there was a two-page section about one of the members being adopted? idk i thought it was fun to name the essays after different kpop idols/groups, but there were so many tangents in each essay that the original focus would keep getting lost!! towards the end, the essays got a bit sharper, so i enjoyed them more, but it took far too long to get there.

like genuinely sorry to be rude but like lowkey did the people who worked on this book forget that this was an essay collection.. why did multiple essays have almost the same exact paragraphs multiple times. the same things were mentioned over and over again without adding anything new, like pls!! i wouldn't mind this if only there was a new angle! also i am of the possibly lukewarm take that some things about online fandom should remain in online fandom (thinking specifically about that cut article about the pitt fanfiction) and some of the things covered in these essays, i was like woah! that could have stayed on x dot com!

i'm also not sure who this book was intended for, because i don't think i would have understood a lot of these essays if i hadn't already been a kpop fan for six years. there were just soo many names and companies and details and this and that, and i genuinely don't think i would have been able to keep track of them if i didn't already know who these people were.

maybe this is unfair of me but i think of hanif abdurraqib’s they can’t kill us until they kill us and how he also used music as a lens to dissect culture and i think he did it with more weight and intentionality.

this book felt like it couldn't tell if it was cultural criticism, a kpop history or memoir — which, granted, could have been something that worked in its favour, but in this case only seemed to detract! rip

[Booksblabbering || Cait❣️ · Rating 3 out of 5]

This combines piercing examinations of fandom and Korean pop culture into a candid self-portrait.
This examines different kpop idols to discuss topics like body image, depression, feminism, academics, plastic surgery, culture appropriation etc.

This is both positive and critical at times, walking a tightrope of offering nostalgia and happiness, and danger and shortcomings.

This did start to become more focused on the matrices of Christianity towards the end which felt like a personal addition to distance herself.

You don’t need to be a K-pop fan to understand this. However, I do this one weakness is that this knowledge will add to your enjoyment and connection to some of what the author relates, especially her own experiences and memories.

It occasionally became repetitive, but the narrator had a soothing voice and I could lose myself doing other tasks and listening in the background.

Between 3/4 stars⭐️

Audiobook arc gifted by Dreamscape Media.

Bookstagram

[Nev · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have such a soft spot for nonfiction books where people use pop culture to discuss their lives and provide broader social commentary. So this book using the lens of different kpop idols to discuss topics like body image, depression, feminism, academics, plastic surgery, and so much more really appealed to me. I loved reading about Giaae Kwon’s experiences being a Korean American fan throughout different generations of kpop and seeing how she related the various topics to her own life.

This book struck a great balance between being critical and positive, it explores how it can be complicated to be a fan of idols in an industry that is so full of double standards and hazardous conditions. The author is very open and forthcoming when describing dark or difficult situations in her own life. My one negative for the book is that I felt like it got a bit repetitive at times.

I think this book will probably appeal most to kpop fans who already have their own relationships with the idols she’s discussing. But I think that the book could also appeal to non-kpop fans who are interested in getting a nuanced look into different topics related to the kpop industry.

Also, I love that the author and I share the same bias in BTS. Hi Yoongi!

Thank you to the publisher for providing an advance copy via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.

[Enya · Rating 4 out of 5]

A nice reflection on K-pop fandom, I picked this up on impulse as I've been a Kpop multi-stan for the last 10 years and am fascinated by Korean culture and the odd contradictions of cultural attitudes around beauty, food, mental health, self-assertiveness, hierarchy, etc. and especially how Kpop is both influenced and inspired by the West and also very particularly Korean and how that relates to the societal complexities within the nation of South Korea and its place in world politics and history. And it's also very interesting to me how international fans and Westerners in general view Kpop (or, in this case, how a Korean-American fan feels about Kpop and all the topics Giaae Kwon introduces including beauty standards, societal pressure, fat shaming, xenophobia, queerphobia, mental health, work ethics, the soft power of cultural exports and more)

Most of the information about Kpop idols of course was not new to me, as I'm pretty well-informed about Kpop's past and present. But overall this was still enjoyable to read, especially as I could relate to a lot of it and it also got me thinking about my own opinions and attitudes in regards to the Kpop industry and how I interact with fandom. It reminded me of my first experience of a parasocial relationship resulting in a surprisingly intense grief when I fell into a deep depression after Jonghyun's suicide, about stupid fights I had with people online about sasaeng behaviour and fan wars (as someone who felt like a parent-fan to 12+ groups I couldn't stand people insulting other groups for no reason), and countless hours spent watching every single vlog and variety show of my favourite groups (Btob mostly ❣️ but also Monsta X, Blackpink, i-dle, Stray Kids and many more, some as well which I don't support anymore like Bigbang or Hyunah). Some good times were had, but now that I'm almost thirty I'm, just like the author, growing up and out of fandom to some degree and have a much less intense involvement or interest in the lives and personalities of the artists I listen to. These days I don't really follow groups at all beyond listening to and enjoying new releases. I still have fond memories though and still consider myself a fan, and I'm hoping to go to Korea and study Korean more intensely for a few months in the not-too-distant future, which would have never happened had I not discovered a love for Kpop a decade ago.

[Amber · Rating 4 out of 5]

ARC and ALC gifted by the publisher

this cultural criticism essays bring me back to my teenage kpop days following SNSD, 2NE1, f(x), Big Bang, and CNBLUE (anyone?). Kwon's incisive analysis of sexism, exploitation, and cultural appropriation shed light on the seemingly glamorous industry. The essays will resonate with readers of the Asian/Korean diaspora or K-pop fans open to unlearning & relearning through non-eurocentric lenses.

while there are elements of Kwon's personal life, it is sprinkled into her essays. And because of that, readers who crave a more linear and comprehensive memoir might find this book more surface-level in its examination of mental illness

[marcia · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sadly, I'm not the target audience of this essay collection. It's more for casual listeners who are only into BTS and Blackpink. As a die-hard Kpop stan who was and still is deep in those Twitter trenches, this book is merely rehashes of discourses I've encountered thousands of time and have no desire to revisit. I'm by no means discrediting the topics she's writing about, which are indeed complex and important. In fact, I agree with the author's perspective on almost everything. However, I've developed nuanced opinions on these topics years prior and these essays aren't offering new food for thought. To make matters worse, these essays are badly edited and has tons of repetition. The same nuggets of information keep getting brought up, which significantly lessens their impact.

Thanks to NetGalley, Macmillan, and Henry Holt and Co. for a free review copy.

[Steven · Rating 2 out of 5]

tl;dr kwon’s essay collection offers earnest and candid episodes of her life, but many of them are framed around tenuous parallels drawn to the kpop idols that she’s loved (and hated) over the years

Kwon’s essays are a mix of pop culture and the personal. So this review will be similar; firstly, allow me to get some thoughts out of the way.

Firstly, I am a certified music snob.

Secondly, I was a fan of K-Pop for a very brief, and somewhat intense, period of time. There was a channel in between the two main Filipino programming channels called Myx, which often showed a block of music videos from Korea and Japan. I encountered such songs as the bouncy and seductive Abracadabra by Brown Eyed Girls (mentioned in the book), the showstopping girl-power “I Will Survive”-lite anthem Wonder Woman by Seeya, Davichi, and T-Ara, and Nunmuri heureuda (Tears Fall) by ThE THe Band (or simply “the the” in Korean), an absolutely pitch-perfect early 2000s coffee shop indie slow jam (you can smell the grinding of coffee through the song’s lush production) that was extremely difficult to find because of that group’s atrocious SEO (but here it is). These songs were interspersed with Japanese songs as well, including songs by Kaela Kimura and a particularly bubbly, saccharine-sweet Japanese song by Korean boy group DBSK (to whom Kwon devotes an entire chapter) called Summer Dream.

During this time I also became interested in the Hangul alphabet, and learned how to read and write (but not understand) it.

I’ve since grown out of my interest in K-Pop, but I do look at that time of my life quite fondly. I associate that time as one of the last summers I spent with my brother before we went our separate ways into college.

Nowadays, K-Pop is a completely different beast, and Kwon agrees; whereas she felt that her interest was niche (and, on many occasions, described as “weird”), I just felt like I didn’t have an opportunity to fully connect with the community aspect of it – it truly was a way to bond with my brother. However, the communities surrounding K-Pop are ubiquitously accessible, whose explosions can be traced back to TikTok and short-form video content. There are a myriad of ways for K-Pop companies to snag new fans.

The first time I ever saw a random dance play, I was completely in awe. It’s line dancing on steroids. Fans learn pieces of choreo purely for the love of the game, and celebrate those songs in short, sporadic, passionate bursts. Songs whose moves are known by only a handful of individuals (and sometimes, a single person) get the heftiest amount of cheers. Random dance plays are a pure joy to watch, and an awe-inspiring demonstration of K-Pop fandom’s capability of bringing people together.

However, the disingenuity of K-Pop as a product is a glaring aspect of it that I can’t overlook. I hate that it pits young teenagers against each other in training academies; that group placements don’t guarantee security; that companies have full say over what a K-Pop performers does/says/sings/interacts with; that humans are reduced to an image. Whenever my partner plays a song that I don’t like, sometimes it’s excused: “Oh, but the dance is really good.” Buying into K-Pop means buying into a fantasy, which is captured, packaged, and sold; it can be bought at your local Target.

I picked up Giaae Kwon’s collection of essays from the library hoping to gain a new perspective of, if not K-Pop, then at least fandom. After all, if you’re writing the book, you must have some sort of point-of-view. What sets her sense of fandom apart from my friends who love Kingdom Hearts / Batman / Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint / Mouthwashing / Danganronpa?

About 300 pages later, as it turns out, not much. Kwon’s experience of fandom is, to me, dime-a-dozen; I bet you can basically look up any Kingdom Hearts piece on YouTube and find similar sentiments that Kwon expresses about K-Pop: namely that it “got me through a tough time”, that it “saved my life”, etc. etc. I’m happy that Kwon found her way through the hard times via K-Pop, but was it worth writing 300 pages about?

The way that she writes about music is, for me, ineffective. While reading, I thought to myself, okay, this person is not a musician and that’s okay. Obviously, non-musicians can write about music, but they’re often relegated to describing via adjectives and not figurative language, parallels to other artforms, or strictly musical terms. Early on, the way she describes H.O.T.’s “Hope” as causing her “heart to race” made me expect a pulse pounding, club-bumping, high-energy track; color me surprised when I found it was basically a downtempo riff on Janet Jackson’s “Together Again”.

Then came the revelation that she was classically trained, from childhood, in both piano and flute (p. 253), and I was understandably taken aback. Nothing about her music writing evokes the experience of listening to the music, or even watching the videos, just some simple labels thrown on (the word “unique” is used to describe an idol’s voice or a group’s concept a minimum of 15 times). When I ask a nonmusical, casual fan of K-Pop what they like about a song, it’s usually something surface level: I like the beat / I like the concept. That’s totally fine, but I don’t expect them to write a book about it. Kwon’s music writing reads like a slightly dressed up version of “I like the beat”, and often her opinions falter when she tries to explain why something doesn’t work for her; whenever a K-Pop idol/group makes a debut in the West, Kwon blames the lost-in-translationness of it all on “[trying]... to bend her to some idea of what an American pop star should be, instead of playing up her strengths and uniqueness” (p. 51), which applies to BoA, BTS, and BTS member Jungkook (and the latter has experienced, by my estimation, a wildly successful run in the US).

The essays in I’ll Love You Forever falter structurally and thematically, but sometimes come across fascinating points. I think a good essay is both persuasive and invites conversation; one point about K-Pop-consumption that I appreciated was that we shouldn’t place undue pressure on K-Pop idols to try to understand the sociopolitical structures and underpinnings of the West (mostly, America), as they often can hardly speak out about social issues in their home country due to South Korea’s conservative leanings. In a country where a woman posting about a fantastic novel is reason enough for netizens to rally against them, Kwon calls for grace in these matters, which I wholeheartedly agree with.

Other times, she writes words that I agree with, but fail to mesh with the tone of the rest of the essay. In the Jungkook section of her BTS piece, she mentions that Jungkook’s solo debut was released a near-month after October 7, then clumsily tries to weave us through a (not untrue but sore-thumbly out-of-place) diatribe about the plight of Palestinians, and back into the comfort of Kkookie, who by the way, did you know is the maknae? I think even the most skilled essayist in the world wouldn’t attempt a logical thread so preposterous, and in Kwon’s hands, it’s like I just scrolled through three different tweets.

Kwon’s points about cultural appropriation and K-Pop are handled awkwardly. On page 15, she mentions her distaste for BigBang for their storied use of cultural appropriation, but I think we could have referred back to Seo Taiji and Boys and their flagrant use of … we’ll say black aesthetics (a member’s inconspicuous tanned skin and locs). She also uses cultural appropriation to justify her strong hatred for one company in particular, which seems petty and weakens any stance against problematic cultural appropriation elsewhere; it reads very much as It’s only bad when they do it (“they” being BLACKPINK).

Another issue I have with the writing is that Kwon LOVES repetition. I think maybe these pieces are meant to stand alone, as if to be read in any order. Also, I understand that many of these essays were adapted from prior journal columns that she’s written, but the result is awkward. When read in sequence, as presented in this book, many of her opinions, and even mere facts, are repeated. Twice the acronym for the elite universities is explained; twice in the first essay, she refers to her “broken brain”; twice in a different essay the same two kinds of cosmetic eyelid procedures are described; multiple times she mentions that blackface is performed in variety shows. I don’t know if Kwon’s style is optimizing for a low attention span, but it feels like hitting a word count.

Much of I’ll Love You Forever centers around Kwon’s personal life, and while I think her story has lots of ups and downs, I don’t think that the telling of her personal story is particularly remarkable, and often she draws … ambitious parallels between herself and her idols. The thread about her hating BoA at first was particularly grating to read; even though she comes around to eventually liking and appreciating BoA for her representation of older idols in the K-Pop landscape. Similarly, her love-hate for IU sours her attempt to empathize with IU in that essay’s conclusion. Towards the end of her essay, she writes:

At the end of the day, they’re still thin and pretty, and I’m still jiggly and pudgy and not pretty, but I suppose I appreciate the honesty and hope that the more open and genuine women are willing to be about these issues, the more we can strip unreasonable beauty standards of their power. (p. 110)

“I suppose” here feels like it has an unintended implication, as though IU’s struggles with her body image are less real than Kwon’s own. It has an air of invalidation, which feeds into the parasocial aspect of K-Pop; for individuals of low self-esteem, idolizing Idols (in both the love and hate sense) will invariably lead to even less self esteem.

You’re interacting with a manicured image, not a person. K-Pop slots its prettyboys and evergreen-girls into near stereotypes, roles, as though we’re Truman Show-ing these youths. It’s selling authenticity, but it’s not real. To me it’s no different from falling in love with Sora from Kingdom Hearts, Riku from Kingdom Hearts, or Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy VII, but also from Kingdom Hearts (don’t ask me how I know).

The following has less to do with Kwon’s experience of K-Pop than it does just my observations of K-Pop in general: the degree to which you buy into the fantasy will inform how much it will take over your life. For the companies, a fan’s obsession drives the dollars; and like any other company, their only goal is to get more dollars out of you. K-Pop is a product. It has artful aspects, but to me, isn’t primarily art. It's a commodity. K-Pop’s motivation is not to make meaningful contributions to culture, it’s to make money, its purpose since inception. K-Pop has expertly co-opted the phenomenon of fandom from a hobby to a cash cow, and the main victims are the idols, whose self-determination is completely voided so companies can get some money. That people all over the globe feel real human connections to images-of-people means that it's working as intended.

Am I cynical about the whole thing? Yes, absolutely. I’m more critical of K-Pop than I am any other genre since I enjoy music for music's sake. I don’t participate in K-Pop fandom as outlined by Kwon in this book, but I certainly like individual songs (I still think, aesthetically, NewJeans is the best thing to happen to K-Pop in years, which makes their current situation all the worse). Unfortunately, I think what Kwon’s collection of essays, through its ineffective music writing, its repetitious points, its tenuous personal parallels ... it all demonstrates that K-Pop is not about the music.

Look, I do think that songs can save you, but I don’t think it’s an artist’s responsibility to do so. Saying to an artist that a piece of work that they’ve created helped you is acceptable. Saying that they saved you places far too much responsibility on them.

The latter is what K-Pop is selling. Tread with caution.

[Maia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I first discovered Giaae Kwon's writing through a series of excellent and insightful personal essays on kpop published by Catapult, and was delighted when she sold this collection around the same themes. Kwon grew up in a conservative Korean church community in Los Angeles and discovered kpop in its first generation with the group H.O.T. in the late 1990s. This gives her a long view of the industry which has exploded in popularity globally and especially in the US in the past few years. Each essay in this collection focuses on a different group or soloist as its anchor point but the essays range into Korean history and Kwon's personal life. Major content warnings for this book include a lot of references to weight, body shaming, dieting, depression, and suicidal thoughts. The essays aren't equally strong; unfortunately, I thought the BTS essay was one of the weaker ones of the collection, though that might be because BTS is one of very few groups I have actually been following longer than the author. But many of the other essays absolutely hit; the pieces on Tablo (member of Epik High), Taeyeon (member of Girl's Generation) and Shinhwa (longest running still active kpop group) all stand out as shining high lights. The whole collection is absolutely worth a read, and will especially speak to anyone who has been following kpop for long enough to be at least passingly, or deeply, familiar with groups from all five generations of kpop and an interest in the industry as a whole.

[Elena L. · Rating 5 out of 5]

[ 4.5/5 stars ]

I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER is a memoir in essays of Giaae Kwon that blends her personal experiences and her obsession with K-pop.

Alternating between Kwon family's history and K-pop idols' story, the words are brimming with Koreanness that comes from the author's Korean diasporic experience. Deeply heartfelt with a passionate prose that makes the emotions tangible, there's a raw examination of belonging, identity, regret, body-shaming, (stigma of) mental illness and faith as a more personal perspective that interweaves with cultural criticism of the (gendered) Korean society.

By going down the rabbit hole of the fandom world, Kwon exposes from the postwar Korea rooted in /han/ to the messy Korean entertainment industry anchored by misogyny and toxic beauty standards. The author's strength is, by drawing parallels between her life and k-dramas, she allows a deep dive into the Korean culture and it feels intimate, rich and dynamic.

Being a BoA fan in my teenage years, I personally appreciated Kwon's connection with BoA - the way the author incorporates part of BoA's life into her own existence, finding in her comfort. It's also interesting to follow Kwon's writing journey, which all feels more real with its challenges and motivations.

The author doesn't hold back at showing her vulnerabilities and fears, yet in defying stereotypes and pushing boundaries, hope is channeled while Kwon also steeps one in the emotional landscape through her relationship with food.

"Everything is political, from food to literature to K-pop, and it's telling of a person's own privilege to be able to claim otherwise."

For those seeking a profound look into the Korean culture with a refreshing perspective from a K-pop fan, I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER is for you. I thought it was richly tailored.

[ I received an ARC from the publisher - Henry Holt . All thoughts are my own ]

[Anna Kay · Rating 4 out of 5]

An essay collection detailing the life of author Giaae Kwon, I’ll Love You Forever links the role K-Pop has played in her life, from the formative years of her youth to adulthood, and the importance of the genre to the Korean culture as a whole. She recounts the story of her life in this compelling and illuminating memoir while also discussing key moments in Korean pop culture and general history, sharing an intimate look into her life as a Korean American who often didn’t fit the mold the culture demands of young women.

From her first introduction to K-Pop to becoming a loyal fan to 90s boy group, H.O.T., and her reflections on growing up as a Korean American girl, Kwon weaves together the narrative of her life through the pop culture moments that defined those stages of her life.

As a white westerner, my understanding and knowledge of K-Pop and the intricacies of Korean culture are slim, having often relied on the insights of others to help guide me through the nuances and important themes in the music and K-dramas I have enjoyed. From finding a love for K-Pop groups like BLACKPINK and Seventeen as a teenager, to binge watching popular K-dramas during the initial months of the pandemic lockdown, I recognize my lack of context to truly grasp the context of the inner workings of these industries and the Korean culture at large. Because of this, I found this audiobook to be incredibly helpful and insightful not only to understanding the history and importance of K-Pop, but the complex relationships many Koreans and Korean Americans have with the industry and the often steep expectations placed upon Korean girls and women by their own culture.

Giaae narrates her own life story in this audiobook with great emotion for her younger self in reflection, and with great passion in relation to her love for the idols who have become a core part of herself. I highly recommend listening to the audiobook, and many of the essays spoke so close to home, even though my own cultural background is quite different- I felt very seen in the chapters where she discusses her struggles with self image, body dysmorphia, and finding her path in life.

Whether you have a love for K-pop or not, there is so much to gain from experiencing this collection of thoughtful and heartfelt essays. I look forward to hopefully see more writing from Kwon in the future, as I deeply appreciate her approach to tackling the topics of female adolescence, self image, and the innate desire to strive for acceptance by loved ones.

Consider giving this a read or listen if you’re like me- someone who lacks the understand and words to truly capture the importance of K-Pop as a genre and art form and its impact on the world. Not on that, but at so many times during this collection of essays I felt so seen. While my own heritage is not Korean, I cannot begin to recount the times I felt lacking in meeting the expectations of loved ones and my community. Often looking for ways to find meaning and purpose when I couldn’t do so through meeting conventional weight and beauty standards. Finding kinship through those chapters made me feel so seen and understood. It was healing in a way.

[belton :) · Rating 5 out of 5]

this book isn't perfect, but it's perfect for me, and that's all that matters.

https://open.substack.com/pub/beltons...

I found so much comfort reading this, even though it's a dense book with so many difficult topics, like body shaming, s*icide, misogyny, racism, homophobia, etc. This book is perfect for those who love kpop and for those who don't really love it as much. Giaae Kwon talks about a lot of the issues that have arisen in the kpop industry over the years, issues that many kpop fans would be familiar with, but she explains them so well and brings in her own commentary, mentioning her life and her perspective on things in the best way possible.

the part i loved most about this book was Kwon's own life story and what she had to say. She had a rough life, but the one good constant through it all was kpop, and it was inspiring and eye opening to read. the last chapter does a brilliant job just summarizing everything up, but there are definitely positives and negatives to being a kpop fan, but through it all, it's a way of life (which is really silly to say, but it's an industry that helps a lot of people and allows people to truly discover themselves).

I fell in love with kpop in 2017, and although Kwon is a much older fan than I am, I still understood much of the references to older idols like T.O.P. and their shenanigans, but even for people who don't know anything about these idol groups, the book still wouldn't be hard to understand anyway. but this book is not just about kpop. Kwon delves deep into Korean history, as well as social and political events, how things like kpop are even political, how non-Korean fans tend to push their Westernized views on an industry that is, in its nature, Korean, how the kpop industry perpetuates these gender norms and stereotypes, how the industry and fandoms are both advancing the acceptance of queer people, yet holding back their progress at the exact same time. Kwon has all the exact same thoughts as me, but she was the one who put it into words for me.

Like I said, the book isn't perfect. There are lots of repeated phrases and info, such as when Kwon explains the mandatory military service multiple times in one chapter, or when she explains where her username, Jjoongi, came from multiple times in one chapter, but they're only minor inconveniences. Ultimately, the book was sharp, beautiful, extremely vulnerable, and painted such a lovely image of the kpop fandom. it gets rid of the notion that kpop fans are silly and unserious, how there is more to the story than meets the eye.

I also found the book to be seriously relatable. As a Vietnamese American, Kwon and I share a lot of similar experiences (although I never lied about graduating college), and she beautifully articulates everything into words that are easy to understand and empathize. She even looks toward kdramas to explain certain situations, such as iconic ones like SKY Castle (such a good show), to explain how Korean society is wired, how it shaped her thinking, and how she was able to overcome it.

I borrowed this book from the library to read, but I really think I'm going to go out of my way to buy a personal copy. I loved this book so much, and I want my own copy to annotate and keep on my bookshelf. If you're looking for some deep insider, never-before-seen information on kpop, then this perhaps isn't for you, but it's such a heartfelt story about how kpop changed Kwon's life and how she continues to reach for kpop for comfort. Kpop for me has always been a bit of a guilty pleasure, especially because I don't have many people around me who also like kpop and like the same groups I do, but I seriously enjoyed reading a more serious take on the kpop industry. Kwon and I are in the same boat, as I'm getting older as well, and these newer kpop groups are debuting idols who are insanely younger than me (not reaching double digits like Kwon, but even having idols who are five years younger than me makes me insanely uncomfortable), but I don't think I'll ever grow out of kpop. It's served me well in my childhood, and I think it's something I'm gonna keep coming back to.

This is such a wonderful book. I cannot praise it enough. I loved this book mainly for Kwon's life. I want to be Giaae Kwon's friend. I think we would be besties if we were given the chance. This is a must read if you're a kpop fan, but even if you're not one, I think this is a brilliant introductory look inside this booming industry. Ok bye!!!!!

[Chiari · Rating 5 out of 5]

Easily one of my favourite memoirs thus far.
I got so much more out of it than expected.
It’s well written and connects the overall topics, like being an 2nd gen Korean immigrant in America, challenging and overcoming old believes, Koreans social issues and historical background as well as mental health and being a woman with kpop in an flawless, flowy, informative, but also personal, authentic and interesting way.
I did not want to stop reading at any point of the book.

You wrote; „there is Suga. I don’t know him, and he’ll never know me, but he’s somewhere out there, going for what’s real and authentic in the best way he can,“
I think it’s magical to be inspired by someone who you don’t know and who will never know you.
Whether through music or story’s and thoughts.
I respect your bravery and fearlessness to be who you are to have gone through everything mentioned and be so authentic, vulnerable and honest about it. You are an inspiration, Giaae Kwon. You are the fucking idol.

[Maureen · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have... a lot of thoughts about this book. The most infuriating one is that it doesn't seem to know what it wants to be. There are a lot of important topics covered, things that are very prevalent in the kpop industry, and then after a brief intro of someone in the industry that dealt with whichever issue, most of the rest of the chapter is about the author instead. This book is a lot less about kpop and a lot more a diary with occasional thoughts and tie-ins to kpop. Had some interesting tidbits and taught me some things, but overall left me with confusion and frustration

[Bonnie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a hard book to rate because I am confused by its target audience and may have a flawed view of what it is actually trying to be. I thought that this would be a deep dive into the K-Pop fandom, something I am very interested in. My expectation was that it would be both about Kwon's personal experience, and a broader look into K-pop.

And it is...kind of. But it's not an anthropological exploration, with Kwon engaging with the K-pop community to learn why others become obsessed. And it's not a sociological exploration, with data and research.

It's more like whatever The Age of Magical Overthinking: Notes on Modern Irrationality was, which I think is supposed to be cultural crticism but really feels like a series of op-eds, where the author writes about whatever is on their mind on the thin framework of the cultural zeitgeist they've chosen. On the one hand, I like everything Kwon writes, because it's all engaging even if it's a tangent or a cathartic exercise. On the other hand, it doesn't make it feel like a cohesive book.

I blame the editors for this one. I expect authors (especially a new author!) to have difficulties killing their darlings and ensuring a logical flow that is pleasant for the reader. But it's the job of editors to ensure both.

The structure of this book is allegedly by the chronological emergence of famous K-pop stars, (i.e., Chapter 3 is BoA, Chapter 6 is Girls' Generation, etc.). My favorite parts were the history of Kpop sections, and dicussions about South Korean culture/the Kpop industry (I will never not be fascinated by the tightly controlled Kpop trainee program/agency system- like the Golden Age Hollywood studio system but even more intense). I know a little bit (I listened to Kpop back when Super Junior was big, because I'm old), but there was so much more to learn and Kwon presents it in a very readable, captivating way.

But she also weaves in her life story - or her family story - or her thoughts. Again, I'm interested in what is written, but the decision of where and how to insert it into the larger organization feels random and arbitrary. For instance, Chapter 3 is about BoA rising from child prodigy to the equivalent of Britney Spears in fame across both Japan and South Korea. In between this, apropos to nothing, are sections of Kwon's family history. Is the story of Kwon's grandmother and her aunts interesting? Yes. Does it have ANYTHING to do with BoA? Nope. This is especially confusing on the audiobook, when the topic jumps abruptly and with no reason from one topic (Kwon's family history) to another (BoA). And this is not an isolated event - it is just how the book is structured. It is completely disjointed, because the book cannot decide what it is (memoir? think piece? Kpop history? mini essays?).

It is also not clear who the audience is. For example, am I not the intended audience? I am someone with an interest in Kpop/Jpop/Cpop and East Asian dramas, but I'm not a fangirl. And I was mostly into it in the early 2010s. So I need some handholding when it comes to various Kpop bands, is what I'm saying. There's not quite enough of that, but it feels like in many ways it is too basic to be for the true Kpop fanatics - wouldn't they already know most of this? But the thing that left me very confused about the intended audience was Kwon's continued insistence on calling BTS "Bangtan." She explains only once that BTS is also known as Bangtan (their full name is Bangtan Sonyeondan or Bulletproof Boy Scouts). I was listening to the audio, so I missed this quick reference and spent 75% of the book thinking that Bangtan was some other Kpop group that I hadn't heard of. It was only when I realized that this Bangtan group seemed SUPER popular that I connected that it was probably BTS (and then Googled it). Look, I get having a personal preference on how to refer to something, or which form of a name to use. But for casual fans like me, it seems like a better idea to use the most famous version of the name? Maybe this book is not for me, maybe this book was written exclusively for Koreans and those of Korean descent, but given how much time the book spends explaining things for a non-Korean audience, I don't think that is true. So why throw up this barrier to your readers? Even the editors knew that Chapter 9 should be named "BTS" and not "Bangtan," so maybe the editors should have kept that energy and consistently use BTS to refer to the group.

For all my complaints, I am glad I read this book. The audiobook felt like a podcast, and it was fun to listen to as I walked around. It made me want to listen to more Kpop and is the first thing that actually made me want to get more into BTS (yes, I did watch an episode of Run BTS! because of this book). I am probably going to read Kwon's next book. I just hope it is more logically organized and thematically consistent, because I think it would turn it from a good book into a great book.

[Audrey-anne · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is weird to describe. It sometimes reads like a blog, tries to present facts about the Korean culture/history, but also is mostly the author talking about her insecurities and love-hate relationship with korean female idols because they're thin and she's not. Awkward. Or goes on extensively about the author's religious upbringing which adds nothing to the topic at all. She's also talking about SM like they're not the worst of the worst which grinds my gear but iykyk.
Basically its her very personal experience and her very personal opinion, but because she throws in some facts about Korea and the kpop industry (not always accurate in my opinion but anyway) the book feels like it doesn't know if it wants to be a memoir or an essay. It's also REALLY repetitive, and what she keeps on repeating are her very subjective takes. She mostly talks about the first and second gen, nothing very current, so nothing of what she says is new or very insightful. She even at the some point near the end basically admits to being closer to a solo stan so, yikes.
Kpop entered my life 5 years ago and has had a huge impact. The community, the collecting, the language learning, the non-stop content, the parasocial aspect (lol), it's really a unique but all encompassing phenomenon. I've been in fandoms before but this is a different beast. So, the premise of this book interested me, I was ready to relate to it HARD, but I didn't get anything out of the it other than many raised eyebrows. I wish someone could write a similar book without the bitterness and heavy bias because this does not represent the regular kpop fan experience at all. I mean she had the right to write about her story and views and someone clearly though it deserved to get published, but I think describing it as a ' singular work breaking new ground in its consideration of K-pop' is misleading. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[SL · Rating 4 out of 5]

“This flawed, shiny, complicated world is mine–”

Through looking back at her life as a lifelong K-pop fan, Kwon uses K-pop to explore Korean culture and her experiences of growing up as Korean-American, and further, how K-pop has weaved into and shaped her personal life. I’ve been following Kwon for a while as I love her posts and thoughts, and was very excited to pick up her memoir!

Kwon writes magnetically, with candor and vulnerability, which I deeply appreciated. K-pop has been a big part of my life growing up (and still is, to some extent), and we share our love for BTS, who was a colossal part of my life during my uni years during my peak depression and existential dread era (lol). I loved reading her thoughts of idols that I’ve followed and grown up with, including IU, Taeyeon/SNSD, TVXQ/DBSK, Irene, and Tablo. Some of her experiences are quite different from mine, but a lot was also similar too.

I learned a lot about Korean culture and its history (the sort of stuff that you really have to dig for, which is also why I love following Kwon as she reads a lot of cool texts about Korean history and culture). This includes transnational adoption, Christianity in Korea and how it got entangled with Confucianism, and the disruptions of Korean culture due to Japanese colonialism and the Korean War (see: American imperialism). She also touches on plastic surgery, female sexuality, and the draconian world of Korean academia. Kwon casts her net wide, but all of them are fleshed enough to make you think, and look more into, if it catches your fancy!

Kwon delves deeply into BTS and I love a fan who is also highly critical of the idols they love. I also love it when people who know BTS write about BTS, because they just GET it. Her writing on Yoongi (as he is also my bias) touches me very, very deeply. (See: So Far Away). (ALSO, I learned about a lot of things that happened to idols that I hadn’t been aware of before…)

As Chee says in his review, “K-pop at last gets the story it deserves”--and yes, this is so well researched and rich in its content, you’re sure to uncover many, many gems. This memoir, I’ll love you forever <3

[tteise · Rating 3 out of 5]

JO KWON MENTIONED!!!!!

[meggy (readsinbloom)]

won in a goodreads giveaway!

[Lexi · Rating 2 out of 5]

Parts of this were interesting, but there were other sections where the author manipulates the facts to fit with her preconceived notions. Some basic facts are also incorrect.

[Allison · Rating 4 out of 5]

enjoyed listening and learning about more of the insides of kpop.

[Spudpuppy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Big suicide TW in this review.

Several times throughout this book, the author mentions Kim Jonghyun, and every single time it's a single sentence about his suicide.

I wasn't going to make a review, but I can't stop remembering it and getting angry. Jonghyun was so much more than that, and it made me sick that an author who spent so much time talking about her own mental health struggles would reduce him to this.

Contrary to what the author said, other artists at SM did get to write some of their own music, and Jonghyun was probably the most prominent one. Besides writing over 80 songs for Shinee and their members and his own solo music, he also wrote for Lee Hi, EXO and even IU, who got an entire chapter in this book. He did multiple songs with Taeyeon, who also got a chapter, where we just got multiple mentions of some guy that died and it might've made Taeyeon sad. Nothing about their close friendship or the music they did together. Nothing about Jonghyun's life.

He loved his weenie dog, Roo. He had a masters degree in music, and played multiple instruments. He was a published author. He liked spicy food and scary movies. He publicly and explicitly stood up for gay and trans rights when even now in 2025 so few idols have. He was sensitive, and empathetic, and most of all he was a person who lived a full life. He was infinitely more than how his life ended.

In the future, I hope the author is more considerate about how she writes about people who died like this. Jonghyun was my Tony, and now he's gone, and this book just left me with the cold, sick fear that his legacy is becoming "a guy that died and my favs were sad about it" not of an incredible artist and a compassionate person who LIVED and whose LIFE mattered.

[Alaina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this one! Over the course of 12 full-length essays, interspersed with a couple of shorter "alt chapters," Kwon analyzes topics like fandom, feminism, and culture through the lens of K-Pop (and, in turn, examines K-Pop through the lens of all these topics).

A few of my favorite essays:

Essay 2 (H.O.T.) - discusses (from angles both personal and fictional) the conflict that can arise between being a good fan (by K-Pop standards) and a "good girl"/good daughter (by familial standards).

Essay 3 (BoA) - comparing one iconic idol's career trajectory to those of women in the author's family. How are worth and achievement tied? What does it mean to be special?

Alt chapter - K-Pop and cultural appropriation

Essay 10 (Tuxq) - the tension b/w shipping culture and anti-queer sentiment in K-Pop culture (and, more broadly, Korean culture).

Kwon does a good job of briefly covering the relevant historical and cultural contexts of the industry, and deftly weaves in her own personal narratives of family, self-worth, and self-discovery. She also reckons with a lot of the uglier, more challenging aspects of the industry, fandom, and its/their place in broader culture (Korean culture and global culture). Ultimately, though, she finishes on a note of gratitude and pride in her heritage as a Korean woman, and her experience as a K-Pop fan.

Critiques: one or two of the essays overlapped in argument/subject enough that I felt they could be combined.

Do I think this book succeeded at what it was trying to do? YES.

Did I enjoy this read? YES

Thank you to the publisher for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review!

[Eryn]

DNF after 2 chapters and skimming a few.

It felt as if the author couldn't decide who the audience should be - devoted K-pop followers? Casual fans? Interested person who just wants to learn about K-pop? As a result, the writing is stuck on a superficial level despite it seemingly having an intention to go deeper into the industry and fandom. I understand if Kwon is trying to reach a broader audience but it felt counter-productive.

It also reads more like an online column than a book, let alone being "essays", which didn't work for me. Really attempted to gave it 2 stars but I really didn't read that much of it and mainly disappointed by the quality.

[alicia · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a decent read for any fan with tons of relatable anecdotes. However, I expected more from it. It was really repetitive in an odd way where certain facts or sentences were repeated over and over throughout the book. There was also a ton of Korean text with no explanation so would be hard to an average reader who wasn't Korean or into K-pop. Generally, the book needed better organization and it wasn't super clear whether it was meant to just be a memoir or something else. The chapters were divided by certain songs that I think were important to the author but it wasn't clear and wasn't always the case.

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'll Love You Forever is a series of personal essays from Giaae Kwon, a long-time K-Pop fan, on the role of fandom in her life. These essays thoughtfully balance personal narrative and pop culture criticism, offering compelling examinations of her experiences with community, mental health struggles, professional challenges, and the Korean diaspora through the careers and public trajectories of her favorite K-Pop idols. As such, these essays also offer an insightful history of the first few generations of K-Pop idols, which is a largely murky history to me, as I entered K-Pop fandom in 2020, mostly paying attention to 3rd and 4th generation groups. I was also intrigued by the development of K-Pop fandom, particularly for fans in the Korean diaspora and international fans located outside Korea and Japan. I appreciated that each topic or theme was paired with a particular artist or group, finding affinities between the author and these artists on these topics. These essays are thoughtfully crafted and organized. A good read for K-Pop fans. The author narrates the audiobook, which is always an added plus for my listening experience.

I received a copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.