Épuisée par le bruit, la foule et la vie urbaine de Séoul, Jebi décide de prendre de longues vacances. Elle va passer l’été sur une petite île qui respire le soleil et l’insouciance, au large des côtes coréennes. Avec l’espoir de réussir à reprendre pied avant de retourner à sa vie quotidienne.
Mais, comme un signe du destin, le dernier jour de son séjour sur l’île, elle découvre le studio Hakuda, un petit magasin de photographie qui recherche un employé. Elle décide de rester. Et ce petit studio va révéler sa magie : durant le temps nécessaire pour prendre une photo, Jebi fait des rencontres qui changent la vie.
Un jeune couple sur le point de se marier, un policier hanté par son passé, des femmes plongeuses au travail épuisant… En les prenant en photo, Jebi les aide à révéler leurs secrets et des rêves qui ne demandent qu’à se réaliser. Chaque jour, Jebi capture un peu de la magie de l’âme humaine. La magie de la vie et de son renouveau.
I read the English version, and it was surprisingly good. Honestly, I picked up this book because of its cover, but reading it felt like answering a personal call. The language spoke to me in a way that reminded me: life goes on, no matter what. Jebi’s life was full of struggles—career failures, heartbreak, and the pain of being a mother who felt she had disappointed her family. If it were me, I might have thought everything was already over. But her journey to Jeju Island changed everything. What touched me most was not just her story, but the life she found there: the ocean, the community, the work she loves, the culture, and the marine ecosystem. It was beautiful and inspiring and gave me a glimpse of how my own life might look at the end of the day—calm, meaningful, and connected (obviously I was thinking about a life on the island atp). The book didn’t make me dwell on photography itself, though it was part of the story. Instead, it gave me something deeper: a heartwarming reminder of the importance of believing in human sanity, of holding on to what keeps life moving forward. In Jeju, Jebi meets Seokyeong, the owner of Hakuda Photo Studio, and begins working there. She becomes part of the life in Mulkkureok, which I found so endearing. From there, her life simply goes on—and that’s the beauty of it. This is the first book I’ve read this year, and I keep finding myself using words like love, calm, and inspired. Maybe that’s because it truly gave me those feelings. One key takeaway is how common self-doubt really is. At one point, Jebi asks herself: "Who am I exactly? A woman in my twenties. A failed mother. A photography assistant. Like a rock, she was more than just one thing." That line resonated with me deeply. I ask myself similar questions whenever I don’t feel right. But seeing her life, and the people around her on Jeju Island, reminded me to believe in my own sanity. One day, the things I pray for will come, and when they do, I’ll understand why being good still matters—even in a world full of ego, selfishness, and capitalism.