Wanneer Yeon-hwa in Kleine wonderen in de middernachtbakkerij van Lee Onhwa haar grootmoeder verliest, de mysterieuze eigenaresse van de middernachtbakkerij, besluit ze de winkel nog een maand open te houden. En niet tijdens reguliere uren, maar elke avond, tussen tien uur en middernacht.Op haar eerste avond wordt ze verrast door een vaste hulp, die al snel duidelijk maakt dat Hwawoldang geen gewone bakkerij is - en dat niet alle klanten tot het rijk der levenden behoren.Met de hulp van de zwarte kat die in de winkel woont, ontdekt Yeonhwa met welke bijzondere gebakjes ze haar klanten verder kan helpen op hun reis. Tegelijk begint ze langzaam maar zeker haar eigen geheimzinnige familiegeschiedenis te ontrafelen... en ontdekt ze een kant van zichzelf die lang verborgen is gebleven.Kleine wonderen in de middernachtbakkerij is dé healing fiction-sensatie uit Zuid-Korea. Deze ontroerende en hartverwarmende roman gaat over rouw, herinneringen en het helende vermogen van verhalen en gebak. Voor lezers van Voordat de koffie koud wordt en De buurtwinkel van tweede kansen.
Some places exist in the quiet hours, not just between night and day, but between worlds. Sometimes soft, inviting, but could also be a little lonely. And in retrospect, this novel is very much that kind of story, but in a different like, this book also feels like if The Lantern of Lost Memories and The Amberglow Candy Store had a child! (and I never make a better equation in describing a book).
Set in a small pastry shop that only opens between 10 p.m. and midnight, Yeon-hwa a grieving young woman who inherits her grandmother's bakery alongside a crushing debt, soon discovers that her clientele are spirits. With the help of Sa-wol, a mysterious shaman hiding secrets of his own, Yeon-hwa soon begins to explore what people leave behind when they die and what they still cling to before they can finally move on.
The major force of this book is its core conceit and the melancholic yet uplifting atmosphere it cultivates. Each spirit’s tale is sad, tender, and quietly hopeful, speaking to human bonds, regrets, and love. While the novel deals with death, it never feels heavy or overwhelming. Instead, it carries a warm reminder to carry the torch for the people we love while we still can.
On a personal note, chapter four and five deliver powerful emotional punches that underscore the fragility and beauty of life. The message that emerges is heartrending, which taught us to cherish our loved ones and to find a way to live without being consumed by grief for those left behind. The author handles this difficult theme with delicacy that avoids becoming dark or morbid, leaving the reader with a soft sense of hope. I was a crying mess especially after reading these two chapters ㅠㅠ
However, where the story of the spirits shines, the living narrative at its core feels underbaked. The book’s underlying weakness takes in its characterization of Yeon-hwa herself. We learn she was raised by her grandmother after her parents' death and feels estranged from her, but her internal world often feels sidelined. On that ground, when the final revelations come, I expected to feel more stirred than I actually did but it felt like something was missing. And I think that absence comes from not spending enough time truly understanding our protagonist. Her story never fully blooms, which made the ending less impactful than it could have been.
That same limitation extends, more subtly, to the spirits. Though their circumstances differ, still feels emotionally indistinct which becomes more noticeable especially when you have read other books with a similar “helping spirits move on” premise. There is a silent dissonance in seeing souls defined by unresolved longing appear so emotionally subdued, as if the narrative keeps their inner lives at arm’s length rather than fully engaging with their somber complexities.
Even so, as highlighted earlier, Hwawoldang thus far approaches death with notable sensitivity. It treats grief with respect and frames moving on not as forgetting, but as continuing to live. The message may not be groundbreaking, but it is sincere and comforting.
And if you look closely, there is something meaningful to take away from this book. It is gentle, bittersweet, and meekly heartwarming. In the end though, I do not think it was quite for me and that is alright. Sometimes a story can be beautifully told and still not fully remain in your heart.
I think I’m officially exhausted of these stories. They’re all the same! I thought this would have more substance, and more about the granddaughter taking over the store, but it’s the usual twee serial short format about communing with the dead.
It was too neat. Too simplistic. Too saccharine. I wanted more substance than the story gave me. The writing and the plot felt more geared to young readers than something for adults. There was a noticeable amount of awkward and repetitive phrasing, particularly in the dialogue, that felt unnatural. Overall, the writing/translation felt super rushed.
Communing with the dead, uncommunicative or passive characters, food, and cats are all starting to feel like tickbox lists that authors include. Like they’re all writing to an assignment brief, but there isn’t any variation to keep things interesting.
I didn’t hate this, but I was bored by it. It didn’t offer anything new or fresh.
My request to review this was approved by Michael Joseph via NetGalley.
This charming short novel incorporates magical realism to create a unique and enjoyable read!
Twenty seven year old Yeon-hwa has inherited her grandmother’s pastry shop, but it comes with specific conditions. The shop must be open from 10 p.m. until midnight. Her grandmother has left recipes for the pastries which Yeon-hwa will provide.
Yeon-hwa thinks that this is strange, but agrees to give it a try. When her first customers arrive, she learns that the pastry shop is the last stop for people who have died! They can enjoy their favorite pastry for the last time before passing on.
While waiting for their pastry, each “person” tells their story to Yeon-hwa. The stories are all different, but each one is heartbreaking. Yet each person is at peace with what has happened. As the time goes by, Yeon-hwa also learns more about the secrets of her own family.
Because this story is set in South Korea, the pastries and their ingredients are not well known or easily recognized in western countries. However this does not take away from the story’s enjoyment. This is a tale of love, selflessness, and kindness that will stay with you for a long while.
Do you know what ghosts who still have unfinished business with humans frequently do? Outside this book, I have no Idea. Inside this book, they are the main clients of the Flower Moon Temple Pastry Shop. They go there between 10 p.m. and midnight to order comfort treats that instantly connect them with the ones they still have things to say…
Death can be an unpredictable visitor. Sometimes, it drops by, unexpectedly, when we still have repressed feelings to share. Hence, this book is inviting us to say what we have to say before our expiration date. Our peace of mind will be deeply grateful 😉
Oh this really was a wonderfully thought-provoking book. Where many of the popular Japanese translated books are typically very cosy and feel-good, I’ve found that the Korean stories are a little more realistic and written to provide life lessons. This book is no exception.
[A HUGE thank you to Netgalley for the ARC]
Yeon-hwa is a bit of a lost soul. A 27-year-old girl who has just lost her grandma, a family member she never felt a close connection with. Upon meeting her grandma’s solicitor, she realises she has inherited Hwawoldang, a traditional dessert shop that has been in the family for generations. But the one condition of her inheritance is that she must not sell it immediately and must open every evening from 10 to midnight.
Yeon-hwa reluctantly agrees, hoping she can sell it as soon as possible. However, as soon as she meets Hwawoldang’s customers, she knows she has a real job on her hands. As she is brought into the memories of each customer, she learns about their deepest regrets and the sadness they feel now that they cannot make amends. And also that these customers are not as normal as they first seem. You’ll have to read on to find out why [:
I really enjoyed this book and learning about each of the shop’s customers. It made me feel that life really is too short and you shouldn’t wait to express your feelings or do the things you’ve always wanted to do. It also emphasises the importance of family relationships. Finally, what was refreshing about this story wasn’t that life is perfect or could be fixed with a hot coffee. Some of the scenes were quite disturbing!
I received a copy of this book for free from the publisher (William Morrow) for promotional purposes.
What a sweet and heartfelt story!
This was very similar to another book I read earlier this month, The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop. Both books deal with the owner of a store helping people move on. In this book, the owner, Yeon-hwa, is helping spirits find closure so they can pass on peacefully before they are reincarnated.
I really enjoyed all of the customers’ stories. Each customer had a unique life story and the stories never felt repetitive or similar. My favorite was Ji-hwan. He was only ten years old and was so precious. Naturally, all the stories deal with death so they were always a little bittersweet.
Since this book is about a pastry shop, there were a lot of descriptions about food. All the pastries sounded so delicious. I’m not super familiar with Korean pastries, but after reading this book I definitely want to try some of the ones that were mentioned like yanggaeng.
While I enjoyed this book, I also felt like it was missing something. I felt a similar way about The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop so it might just be something about this type of story.
Overall, I loved my time at this cute little pastry shop. If you like cozy and emotional stories, consider picking this one up!
Then the door chime sang again, and this time, a middle-aged woman in a flower-print dress entered – and I could tell instantly from the nervous look in her eye and her awkward steps that she had to be a customer. Sa-wol noticed the customer, too, and whispered, ‘I’m actually a shaman. And I know about the thing your grandmother mentioned in her will. The answer to your “little” problem.’ ‘You do?’ I said in disbelief, but instead of replying, Sa-wol grinned obliviously and turned on his heel.
쇠종이 한 번 더 울렸다. 이번에는 노란색 꽃무늬 패턴 원피스를 입은 중년 여자가 입장했다. 낯설어하며 고개를 두리번거리는 몸짓과 불안한 눈빛으로 보아 이번에는 확실히 손님이었다. 사월은 손님이 온 것을 확인하고는 재빨리 목소리를 낮춰 속삭였다. “사실 난 무당이고요, 할머니 유서에 적힌 ‘그것’도 알고 있지요.” “예? 정말인가요?” 그가 아이처럼 천진하게 웃더니 등을 돌려 나갔다.
A Midnight Pastry Shop Called Hwawoldang is Slin Jung's translation of 시간이 멈춰선 화과자점, 화월당입니다 by 이온화 (Lee Onhwa).
The novel is narrated by a 27 year old woman Hong Yeonhwa and opens:
Life is a fleeting moment, but our bonds will last forever. Those were Grandma’s last words. The sky was bright and clear when she left on her final journey, like even death had put on a cloak of sunshine in honour of her gentle humility. It was a lovely spring day with the flowers in spectacular bloom. I didn’t cry. Grandma’s passing didn’t destroy my life. I was twenty- seven years old; I could eat, go shopping, and even change the batteries of a dead clock all by myself. I put on a brave face, and life went on as if nothing had happened. I’d known since I was little that even as people died around me, yesterday would still lead into today, which would lead into tomorrow.
Her grandmother has died, her parents having died some years earlier in a traffic accident, and has left her traditional Korean/Japanese dessert shop, Hwawoldang (which conveys a sense of Flower Moon), to her in her will. But the shop is unsellable, and the bequest comes with a large debt (100m Won, or c£55,000), and the promise that she has been left everything she needs to run Hwawoldang and a way to repay the debt, but on three conditions:
- she personally runs the shop for at least one month - she opens the shop from 10pm to midnight everyday - she waits in anticipation
The shop itself: I was standing outside the Hwawoldang, its pink neon sign a shock of cherry blossoms in the deep of night. Once a small, single- storey residence, the traditional sweetshop was packed with décor in bright primary colours, the sort of place that might tempt East Asian versions of Hansel and Gretel. The Chinese characters for ‘parting’ and ‘blessing’ were proudly displayed on the wall, below which was an image of a magnificent dragon in flight. The shop interior looked like one massive talisman.
When she opens her first visitor is Sa-wol (literally April) a young man who is a shaman and seems - see the opening quote - to know the secrets of the shop. And her second is a woman who requests a particular dessert - Chocolate Jeonbyeong Crackers (초콜릿 전병) - which she needs by midnight.
It quickly transpires - no spoiler alert needed I think - that the woman is dead, and needs this dessert, which is associated with memories of her death in a fire, to allow her spirit to pass to the other side and be reincarnated. My holding her hand, Yeonhwa is able to enter into memories of her life and death (and the reader is able to read them) as well as significance of the requested dessert.
And that sets the pattern for the novel - each chapter features a recently-deceased person and a particular dessert request:
A cartoon picture of them is below, from the Korean edition's webpage, and the author also made a video of each of them here.
Which makes for some mouthwatering food descriptions - this actually from a meal, accompanied by makgeolli (막걸리) rather than one of the desserts:
I thought of so many people as I raised my bowl and took that first sip of thick sweetness. As the pleasant tipsiness set in, I reached for the edges of the pajeon, fried almost as crispy as the jeonbyeong crackers, but savoury with the flavour of the oil and the gentle kick of the onion. Then I went for two pieces of the dotorimuk, moist and smooth but supple to chew. The chilli powder, vinegar and sugar offset the hint of acorn bitterness nicely. This combination always reminded me of a certain day in early summer, when I sat in the living room with Grandma and both my parents, eating and talking about nothing in particular.
But the stories themselves were rather too twee (particularly versus the rather tragic underlying stories) for my taste.
To the extent there is any plot, it revolves around Sa-wol's own story, and its relationship to Yeonhwa's situation. And the growth in her own self-identity:
‘I’m me! Not “granddaughter of Lim Yun-ok”, not the “heir to the Hwawoldang”, just me! Hong Yeonhwa!’
2.5 stars - rather too sweet a dessert, which left me yearning for a savoury main course (and a bowl of 막걸리).
дуже легко та швидко читається, не очікувала нічого вау бо такого типажу історій дуже багато, але однак все одно було цікаво почитати. фанатам корейської драми "Готель Дель Луна" явно сподобається
Ir nors pradžia buvo kiek vangoka, tačiau neilgai trukus aš jau pasinėriau į šį mistinį pasaulį. Kiekvienas skyrius- tai lyg atskira istorija, ir nors kiekviename iš jų svarbią vietą užima mirtis, tačiau nebuvo nei taip liūdna, nei taip skaudu ar sunku klausyti, kaip aš galvojau. Tai knyga ne tik apie mirtį, bet ir apie susitaikymą, meilę, draugystę. Nors mane kamuoja dvejonės, ar knyga būtų taip pat patikusi, jei būčiau ją skaičiusi, o ne klausiusi 🤔
Interesting read. The blurb indicates "For readers of Before the Coffee Gets Cold, The Dallergut Dream Department Store, and The Midnight Library...." It seems these books are all very similar. I've read a few of these and they tend to be the same. Same story, same magical realism. However, this one caught my attention. The shop is the last stop before the dead move on to be reincarnated. Three different stories are told how the person dies and why they are at the shop, to get a sweet that reminds them of their life and helps them to move on. I liked the story of the monks, the ancient history. The audio narration was quite good. Honestly, I would have loved to hear more about the monastery and the monk. I debated my rating but the more I thought about it, this one just grabbed me for some reason. It's not the strongest, most memorable but I enjoyed reading this one, a good way to also clear my mind and relax.
3.5⭐ C'était fun! Enfin, c'est quand même des histoires d'âmes qui n'arrivent pas à passer de l'autre côté, mais le côté fantastique et pâtisserie était sympa. Les gâteaux sont vraiment au coeur du roman et on sent la passion de l'auteur pour les recettes traditionnelles. C'était ce que je recherchais en achetant ce livre, donc pour ça je n'ai pas été déçue (contrairement à La Boulangerie de Minuit par ex.) J'ai aussi apprécié que pour une fois, les histoires des clients de la boutique ne soient pas tournées en leçons de développement personnel. Ils racontent leur vie, ils sont morts, le lecteur en retire ce qu'il veut.
Le seul bémol c'est que c'était trop court et du coup pas assez développé. C'est dommage parce que c'est pas mal écrit, il y a une atmosphère mi-douce mi-amère bien maîtrisée, mais la protagoniste fait à peine partie de l'histoire. Sauf pendant les quinze dernières pages et là c'est trop tard pour qu'on s'intéresse à ses états d'âme. Ça aurait pu être un coup de coeur sinon.
This novel feels like stepping into a dream where flour dust and moonlight mingle. Lee Onhwa crafts a story that is both whimsical and quietly profound, centering on Hwawoldang, a pastry shop that seems to exist halfway between reality and myth. The atmosphere is enchanting, with descriptions so vivid you can almost taste the delicate pastries and hear the soft hum of midnight conversations.
What makes this book shine is its ability to balance sweetness with melancholy. The characters are tenderly drawn, each carrying their own secrets and longings, and the shop itself becomes a metaphor for memory, healing, and fleeting joy. The prose is lyrical without being overwrought, and the pacing allows readers to linger in its world.
That said, the narrative occasionally drifts, and some threads feel underdeveloped, as if the author wanted us to savor the mood more than the plot. It’s not a flaw so much as a stylistic choice, but it may leave certain readers wishing for more resolution.
Overall, A Midnight Pastry Shop Called Hwawoldang is a beautiful, atmospheric read, perfect for those who love stories that feel like a gentle night breeze, carrying both sweetness and a touch of sorrow. A solid 4-star experience that lingers like the aftertaste of a delicate pastry.
Die einzelnen Kapitel sind wie Kurzgeschichten aufgebaut und haben mich trotz ihrer schweren Themen berührt und eine Leichtigkeit/Lebendigkeit vermittelt.
Cute, très similaire a "Before the coffee gets cold", mais j'ai trouvé que la lecture se faisait bien plus rapidement. C'est un bon livre "feel good" pour se changer un peu les idées!
A light, touching with a cozy slice-of-life in a magical realism setting told in an interconnected tale of Hwawoldang; a traditional sweet and pastry shop where spirits with unfinished business came to seek a request on particular dessert to help them find closure and prepare for the afterlife. I followed Yeonhwa who inherited the shop from her grandmother that has recently passed away leaving her in the help of a shaman; Sawol to operate the shop in between 10pm and midnight, to serve the shop’s special customers with their preferable taste of comfort from jeonbyeong crackers and manju buns to dango, chapssal-tteok and chestnut yanggaeng as well making delivery if requested.
“Hwawoldang was the crossroads between the living and the dead. Every death is a tragedy. But not every spirit can pass on with a smile…”
Loved Yeonhwa’s love-hate interaction with Sawol as well how each tale begins in a neat surreal intro with a magic touch for Yeonhwa to delve into the customers’ perspective and preparing the said desserts for them. Having comforting prose with nothing that tensely and I liked how the author observed those vivid relationship and friendship in between the tales and the mystery revolves around the Korean spiritual belief of 49th-day rite and the three-year mourning that answered my curiosity about those lingering souls.
My fav stories were both about Mae Hyeon with his unrequited lovestory and the tale of the little boy Ji Hwan with his older sister (bit heartwrenched it sadden me when I read that short letter to his sister). Of one’s emotional healing, memories, connection, of grief, loss and compassion that struck a journey of realisation and acceptance for the customers and the people they left behind as well Yeonhwa who came to learn on the details about her grandmother (and the black cat!) and the truth about Sawol. An episode of resentment nearly the end, foreseen yet it grasped a charming reflective ending for me.
Frankly similar to any magical healing premise that I have read previously and still an enjoyable uplifting read nevertheless. Appreciate the readers’ letter from the author at the end!
**Thank you Times Reads for sending me a copy to review!
A Midnight Pastry Shop Called Hwawoldang by Lee Onhwa is an endearing, emotional, thought provoking read. Introducing us to Yeon-hwa, who having been orphaned at a young age was brought up by her emotionally remote grandma who has recently passed.
In her will, her grandma left her business to Yeon-hwa - Hwawoldang, a traditional dessert shop that has been in their family for generations but of course there’s a caveat, Yeon-Hwa cannot sell the shop straightaway and must open every evening from 10 to midnight. Yeon-hwa reluctantly agrees to take the shop on temporarily until she can sell it but, on meeting Hwawoldang’s clients, Yeon-Hwa is immediately drawn into their lives, experiencing the memories, sadness and regrets of each.
Having recently lost my Mam, I was touched deeply by this book and the stories of each of the shop’s clients. This book isn’t saccharine sweet and doesn’t presume that a coffee or a dessert will solve every problem or fix every mistake. This book is a reminder that life is short, often brutally and unexpectedly short, that those you love are important, and that honesty about your feelings and emotions is truly valuable.
Lee Onhwa has written a more realistic and thought-provoking story that doesn’t promise to dive all problems but, does make you feel, think and of course hunger for the delicious sounding traditional Korean desserts.
Thank you so much Michael Joseph, Penguin Randomhouse and NetGalley for this arc in exchange for my honest and sincere review.
Comecei essa leitura esperando uma coisa específica, e o livro entregou isso e muito mais. Apesar de a maioria dos personagens aparecer apenas em partes da história, o tempo dedicado a cada um deles é suficiente para torná-los profundos, com trajetórias ricas em detalhes e sentimentos reais e tocantes, que tiveram um impacto emocional em mim.
O enredo e os temas abordados são bem construídos, e a escrita da autora é muito boa, ela consegue transmitir com clareza exatamente a ideia e o sentimento que quer passar. Achei a história muito delicada e muito bonita.
This was my first work of Japanese fiction and I really enjoyed it! I always love a sprinkling of magical realism in my reads, and I really enjoyed the pastry shop setting (as well as the pastries, which inspired my own sweet tooth this week)! I also liked the formatting of the book, how each chapter was a different person’s story paired with a different Japanese dessert. This was a sweet and lighthearted read that I really enjoyed!
I wasn't sure about this one. It turned out to be a supernatural story, of which I am not fond, but I read it, ghosts and all. They were harmless, pleasant ghosts, too, fulfilling one last obligation in this world before moving on to the next. Oh, how sappy can you get?
But, I read it anyway. The publisher,William Morrow and the author, Lee Onhwa were kind enough to send me a free uncorrected proof, so I owed them a good faith effort.
It is the story of a young Korean woman who inherits a dessert bakery from her grandmother with no way to sustain it, but with the wish that she keep it open for a month between the hours of 10 and midnight every night.
Yeon-hwa's life is headed nowhere anyway, so she decides to give it a go. What can happen in only a month?
She doesn't get any real customers, so no way to pay off the debts, but she starts to get plenty of ghostly customers, wishing to leave tasty treats behind to say goodbye to someone special.
Like I said, not my cup of tea.
Until a third of the way in when I realized I was invested in the stories of these characters and the errors they wished to atone for. The author and translator have a cozy, folksy style that drew me in without my noticing.
I think a young readers book club would enjoy this one.
This was a lovely book with a very interesting premise. I enjoyed all the stories, but the final story was the best [IMO], and I was very emotional by the end of it. I would absolutely read this author again!!
Thank you to NetGalley, Lee Onhwa, Slin Jung - Translator, and William Morrow for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Тази определено ми хареса! Историите на хората бяха трогателни. Самата идея също ми допадна: душите на починалите хора се отбиват в тази пекарна/сладкарница, за да могат да продължат "нататък".
بعد وفاة جدتها ترث (يون-هوا) متجراً لصنع وبيع الحلويات التقليدية. تكتشف لاحقاً أن زبائن المتجر هم أرواح ماتت وترغب بإهداء طبق من الحلوى لمن أحبوا، كأمنية أخيرة. الكتاب لطيف، بإيقاع هادئ لا شيء خارج عن المألوف قطط وحكايا وأمنيات
Thank you for NetGalley and William Marrow with Harper Collins for the ARC of this book for my honest review :)
I want to start off by saying the synopsis of the book was super interesting and that’s why I chose to read it. At the end of the day I don’t want place a rating on this book because I DNF’ed it at 24%. Unfortunately I could not tell if this was geared towards really young readers or if the translation just made it seem that way. It seemed a little too cheesy and predictable. It was repetitive and often I was questioning who was being talked to or where the point of view seem to come from. I enjoyed the beginning and it captivated me to continue reading however, after the first customer I tried to finish the book but simply couldn’t.
I’ve read my fair share of translated books and to be completely honest, they have been translated more smoothly than this one was.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Wanneer Yeon-hwa haar geliefde grootmoeder verliest, de raadselachtige eigenaresse van de gelijknamige nachtelijke bakkerij, besluit ze de zaak nog één maand open te houden. Niet overdag, maar uitsluitend ’s avonds, tussen tien uur en middernacht. Al op de eerste nacht staat er iemand klaar om haar te helpen. Hij kent de bakkerij beter dan zijzelf en onthult dat Hwawoldang allesbehalve een gewone winkel is: sommige klanten komen van heel ver… en niet allemaal uit de wereld van de levenden. Met de stille steun van de zwarte kat die door de bakkerij dwaalt, leert Yeon-hwa welke wonderlijke gebakjes hun bezoekers precies nodig hebben om verder te kunnen op hun reis. Terwijl zij hen helpt, beginnen de geheimen van haar eigen familie zich stukje bij beetje te ontvouwen. En zo ontdekt Yeon-hwa niet alleen de magie van de bakkerij, maar ook de verborgen kracht in zichzelf.
Mijn ervaring: Wat een prachtig en ontroerend boek is dit. Vanaf de eerste pagina voelde ik de rustige, warme en soms emotionele schrijfstijl van Lee Onhwa, en dankzij de prachtige vertaling van Teun Meeuwsen werd ik volledig meegenomen in de sfeer van de middernachtbakkerij. De verhalen van de bezoekers en dat van Yeon-hwa zelf, raakten me op verschillende momenten echt diep.
Het verhaal begint bij het verlies van Yeon-hwa’s grootmoeder. Ze erft niet alleen spullen, maar ook een bijzondere taak: de bakkerij een maand lang openhouden, elke avond tussen tien en middernacht. Vanuit dat startpunt ontvouwen zich vier verhalen van klanten die allemaal met iets anders worstelen. Rouw, twijfel, liefde, hoop; het zit er allemaal in. Het mooie is hoe herkenbaar en menselijk deze ontmoetingen aanvoelen, alsof je zelf even naast Yeon-hwa in de warme bakkerij staat.
Tussendoor leer je Yeon-hwa steeds beter kennen. Je ziet hoe ze groeit, hoe ze voorzichtig nieuwe verbindingen aangaat, en hoe de band met onder andere April langzaam vorm krijgt. Het vijfde verhaal, dat meer draait om haar eigen emoties en verleden, vond ik misschien wel het meest ontroerend. Het raakte precies dat plekje waar verdriet, herkenning en heling samenkomen.
De manier waarop Lee Onhwa alles samenbrengt in het slot vond ik echt prachtig. Het voelde rond, liefdevol en helend, alsof niet alleen de klanten, maar ook Yeon-hwa een stap verder komt in haar leven.
Kleine wonderen in de middernachtbakkerij is voor mij zo’n boek dat je dicht bij je houdt, omdat het je raakt op een zachte en troostrijke manier. Een verhaal vol herkenbare emoties, bijzondere ontmoetingen en mooie inzichten. Het laat je de wereld even net iets warmer en zachter zien.
i only picked this book up because i wanted the aapi bookmark and also it was short enough for me to finish in one sitting, and i really liked it.
while i do agree with the other reviews that say that this book is predictable in every way, i loved it more than any book like that. as a korean (and also wasian) american, i feel like i have always struggled with my identity. though i love both of my cultures, I lean towards my korean culture more considering that I am closer to that side of the family.
the korean word for what is described throughout the novel is jeontong. its a word that describes tradition. this book is something that i have been wanting more of in my life. something that helps me remember my identity- my tradition- that is unrecognized by many because though i am korean american, many koreans don't believe i look the part. all the bakery items that the fmc created in this book are nostalgic items that are not as commonly made anymore even in korea today. It reminded me of my jeontong- the culture that i grew up with that i still hold closely to my heart even in america.
I think that was the beauty of this story. i get it. books like this get repetitive. but the culture behind this book and the reminders that THIS exists and is something that is remembered by others is really something i needed especially right now as i struggle through my cultural identity. the idea of friendship, mother-daughter relationships, sister-brother relationships, loving a man- is all something that i have personally experienced. it is what shapes my identity and what i cherish most in my life. and seeing the lives of others kinda felt like i was looking into a mirror. to care for yourself and to live fully without fear. though there are some people that may not like this book because of how "average" it is, i kinda disagree with that thought because it is something that helped me remember who i am. i love that this book was translated to cater koreans. this book does not try to fit into a one size fits all box by explaining korean currency or jeontong or the bakery items that were made. instead it feels like a lighthouse sharing it's beacon from far far away reminding people like me that it exists, and it will guide you home if you need it. to remind you who you are and where you are from even when there is no other light that you can see