A sweeping story of three generations of women who cross continents and decades to find truth, forgiveness and compassion.
Incheon, 1985. A nameless baby is born in a minbak in South Korea and vanishes nine days later.
London, 2008. When tragedy strikes, Hana faces ruin. She is forced to move her family – her teenage daughter Ada and ailing mother Youngja – into a single room with her, converting the rest of their home into a minbak, in a painful echo of her past life.
In the confined space of their shared room, there is nowhere to hide. As the past collides with the present, all three women are forced to face not only their family’s dark history, but that of an entire country.
Ela Lee's debut novel JADED was published in 2024 by Vintage in the UK and Simon & Schuster in the US. It was an Amazon Best Fiction Book of the Year, and Lee was named a Spotify Breakout Author. She has also been selected for Forbes 30 under 30, class of 2025. Her second novel MINBAK publishes in March 2026, and has been selected for BBC Radio 2 Book Club. Her newsletter Elaborate can be found at elalee.substack.com
Ela Lee’s absorbing intergenerational novel follows three women from one family, at its centre is Hana now settled in London, after her husband’s sudden death she lives with daughter Ada and mother Youngha who’s been diagnosed with a form of dementia. I was a bit uncertain about this one at first, I’ve had some less-than-positive experiences of polyphonic, family sagas but this worked surprisingly well perhaps because Lee’s such a skilful storyteller – elements of her plot reminded me of Korean weekend dramas, thinking of favourites like My Golden Life or Sunny Again Tomorrow, showcasing aspects of everyday Korean culture and society alongside the usual birth secret, family rifts, and threat of revelations yet to come. But Lee’s delivery is far more restrained and realistic with an unexpectedly strong political dimension.
Grounded in extensive research, Lee’s novel moves between London at the height of the 2008 financial crisis and South Korea in 1985 during a particularly turbulent period in which progressive forces clashed with a markedly authoritarian government. In Incheon a child’s born in a local minbak (guest house) not officially named or registered, he disappears not long after. His mother Hana is 17, his father’s an American who’s long since abandoned her. This forbidden love, this lost child thought to have died in an orphanage, haunt Hana for decades to come, fracturing her relationship with Youngha and later affecting her ability to bond with daughter Ada. Lee’s fragmented narrative shifts between timelines and characters to tell Hana’s story which in turn provides insights into Korea’s past as well as the experiences of members of London’s Korean diaspora. The 1980s storyline also highlights harsh conditions endured by working-class, Korean factory workers - struggling to organise and better their lot in the face of a particularly vicious form of capitalism imported from, and propped up by America.
As Lee’s plot progresses it broadens out to examine the now-notorious Korean adoption scandal in which around 200,000 babies and children were exported overseas. Many of these children were forcibly removed from their birth parents, some reported as dead, some kidnapped off the streets, many given falsified paperwork certifying their status as orphaned – even when they weren’t. Organisations and agencies involved in obtaining these children and facilitating these adoptions, like Holt’s Children’s Services, made massive profits. Documentaries and films like Davy Chou’s arresting Return to Seoul have explored the aftermath for Korean children essentially trafficked in this way. But Lee focuses on the possible impact on the families left behind: Youngha’s guilt, Hana’s ongoing grief and trauma, Ada’s confusion and uncertainty about her mother’s past, her curiously detached parenting. Gripping, illuminating and incredibly moving.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Harvill for an ARC
I finished this and messaged my mum and my amah straightaway.
What an incredibly powerful book taking on a story which spans decades, pain from a thousand words left unsaid, and the love which ties family and home so inextricably together. I loved Ela Lee's debut novel Jaded and quickly fell in love with Minbak, drawn in by complex relationships between mother and daughter, and a secret so heavy it burdens our characters decades later. I couldn't put this book down and it has lingered on my mind ever since I finished it.
Youngja (grandmother), Hana, (mother) and Ada (daughter) are forced to open their house as a minbak (boarding house) and live in one room due to financial hardship. All have a POV in this story which straddles two time periods South Korea 1985 and London 2008. We see how Hana grew up, her ambition and dreams which had to be put on hold when her family needed her to work at the minbak and all that happens after. The choices which were made as a result of societal pressures and duty to family all lead up to who Hana is today, still harbouring a deep sadness despite her life now in the UK.
I particularly loved how this didn't shy away from exploring complex family relationships and the love that is shown by a mother which doesn't necessarily come with words but in action and small gestures. How people you love can make mistakes while also trying to do what they think is best for you. I felt like I was holding my breath throughout this book until the secrets started to stream out. My heart was in my throat, I couldn't see the pages through tears, and all I wanted to do was hold these women who had been through so much but were still so strong.
Ada is the youngest character in the book and where she could've easily got lost in the story, the author really made her arc work alongside the her mother and her grandmother. I found my heart breaking for her constantly throughout this book. How she wrestles with pleasing her mother, moulding herself into what she thinks her mother needs, feeling close to her culture through her mother and grandmother but also feeling wholly inadequate when faced with all she doesn't know and hasn't experienced. May that be writing in the language or not knowing Korean history that her grandmother has lived through.
'Ada thought of Magna Carta. Of Normans and Plantagenets. York and Tudor. The English Reformation, all six of Henry's downtrodden wives. Suffrage. Austrian archdukes, kaisers and tsars. Hitler, Mussolini, Churchill, Roosevelt.
And then what? A great big blank over the war that raised the grandmother she loved?'
5 stars. Love love love. This story also leaves the door open for you to look into more about the illegal adoption of Korean children to countries around the world, which I had no idea about. The author also cites all her research at the end of the book.
Minbak by Ela Lee is a quietly powerful novel that unfolds with patience and emotional clarity. At its core, this story is deeply rooted in culture and how it is preserved, strained, and reshaped across generations. I loved that Lee explored everything in depth but showed fragility in doing so.
What surprised me most was the beauty of the love in this book. The love of family through every challenge, showing that love is also complicated, imperfect, and often unspoken. Lee captures how love can exist alongside disappointment and distance, which made the relationships feel especially real
The shifting time periods do take some getting used to. While the transitions eventually add richness and perspective, there were moments early on where I had to pause and reorient myself.
Though there were places where I wished certain emotional threads had been explored a bit more deeply, Minbak remains a thoughtful and beautiful read. I enjoyed this book greatly
wow, what a gorgeous book. one that has cemented ela lee as one of my new favourite authors. i absolutely loved her debut novel, jaded, and now minbak has blown me away too. just gorgeous writing and really powerful storytelling.
I'm still trying to articulate my feelings upon finishing this book. It was.. remarkable, profoundly heartbreaking. A multi-generational trauma that feels like a stab to my heart with every page I turn. Each woman in this story has been hurt, lied to, loved, and sacrificed themselves for the sake of others. It's painful to read about, I shed tears and had to pause a couple of times just to take everything in.
Hana, who I initially thought was heartless and selfish for reacting the way she did, turns out she has just been dealing with her pain the way she knows how to. Youngja, the grief and regret literally eats up alive that she has to live the rest of her lives with only fragments of memories. Ada, the good girl, moulding herself into a perfect daughter so Hana wouldn't leave.. and everything is just deeper than what it seems from the outside.
I think this book will stick with me for a long time. I fell in love with the writer's writing and would love to read her debut novel, which unfortunately I haven't already done prior to discovering this book. One of my best reads of 2026.
Of course, the writing was in Korean. Not the boxy, typed-up Korean with neat characters that she could sort-of read, albeit at the speed of a drunk six-year-old. Hurried words, slanting into each other, the ink faded and blurry. Brimming with legend, like long-lost war journals, hieroglyphics on stone, love letters stashed in a biscuit tin. Words that bore witness to alienation. Ada's stomach churned at the sheer volume. Her mother's thoughts unravelling like bundles of yarn. There was a rhythm to the writing, still breathing, fully in motion. She searched the pages for something familiar - any mention of herself or her dad - but the shapes didn't add up to words.
Minbak (민박) is the second novel by Ela Lee after her debut Jaded.
It tells the story of three generations of women - 영자 (Youngja), 하나 (Hana) and Ada (에이다) - and is set in 인천 (Incheon) in 1985-6 and Wimbledon in 2008-9.
The opening scene is set in 인천 in 1985, and as riot police move in on militant workers, a young woman gives birth to a baby.
In the novel's present day, Hana, born in 1968 (a 원숭이띠 like me) and now aged 40 lives in a house in Wimbledon village (ditto) in a Anglo-Korean marriage (tick), with her 15 year old daughter Ada (I've girls either side of that age) who attends a high-achieving all girls private school (OK this is spooky).
하나 moved to the UK in 1986, aged just 18, after the events that took place in Korea, eventually marrying a businessman, Tim Perry, in 1992, after a short relationship.
With a name like Hannan Penny, Tim's Surrey friends had expected his bride to be creamy-cheeked and impeccably mannered. But when they first met Hana, they found that she was small, with hard black eyes, and a face that was beautiful but, they'd agreed, not attractive. She was kind of sexy, but marred by a lack of ease and simplicity; an unsettling concoction to those who didn't venture beyond easy and simple. An elopement, they'd commented, how Austenian. Tim had bobbed an unfazed smile in response, his arm cradling her waist, backing his subtly sharp twenty-four-year-old Korean bride who'd appeared one day like an apparition.
Privately though, she'd never forgotten that he'd scrawled 'Hannah' instead of 'Hana' on the wedding register, and, in that moment, she realised he hadn't known her well enough to marry her.
Ada was born shortly after, and the family moved to Wimbledon in 2001. Hana's Korean mother 영자 moved to the UK a few years ago after she started to suffer from dementia, and is now in a care home.
But as the present-day narration begins, Tim has died in a car accident, and picking up the pieces of his finances, she realises that his construction business is failing as the financial crisis starts to bite, and that he has recently remortgaged their house to finance his business debts for more than it is worth.
Back in Incheon, Hana's mother ran a boarding house, a 민박 (minbak), although technically a 하숙집 as the author acknowledges in an afterword, and inspired by Youngja's confusion (in her dementia, she often thinks she still runs it in Korea), Hana reaches a decision.
Unable to sell the house and crystallise the negative equity, and unable to afford the care home fees, she will turn their house into an upmarket minbak (think B&B), the three generations of women moving into the living room, where they sleep on the floor. Advertising in the New Malden Korean supermarkets (although I'm not sure if H-Mart existed in 2008) and press, they soon draw a clientele, their house a home-from-home for Korean businessmen and students craving home comforts. And Hana talks Ada's private school into giving her a scholarship.
But the echoes of what happened in 1985, and why Hana came to the UK, echo into their lives and the relationship between the three generations of women.
Hana was Korean, and an immigrant, but she hadn't been much of a Korean immigrant. When she first arrived in 1986, she accompanied the family she was staying with a few Sundays to the Korean church. A buzzing tribe, replicating microcosms of home for three hours a week. They welcomed her, she bolted. Not because she was arrogant enough to think she didn't need the protection of a commu-nity, but because she had to provide a ledger of her where, when, how and why. She wondered if these smiling women who force-fed her japchae would hate her if they knew. Now, when all else was lost, it was Koreans who looked after their own. This was her life now. She woke and she served, and she made others feel at home and, at every moment, her old self nipped at her heels. [...] Ada was the lost third generation. Trying to envision a real place, with its flora and fauna, craters and hills, from the broad strokes of an impressionist painting. Gatherer of microscopic fragments and whispers. Witness to the ache, detached from the context. Bearer of the weight of the better life. Miner of layers and voids. Who cannot have the nerve not to strive to be the best, do the most, to squander what has been given. Who are silenced because what could they possibly understand of the dignity and indignity of pain? All Ada knew was that heartache flowed from the woman she came from and the woman who came before her, until it trickled into a girl in London, lonely and letting another girl drive holes in her ears.
Rich in both plot and character (and in that sense not my usual fare), the novel is distinguished by the author's extensive research, but compassionately told and largely implicit (a unnecessarily didatic late chapter aside), into Korean political history of the mid 1980s, but more specifically the findings of the 해외입양 관련 사건 조사 (which I will leave to the review reader to translate for fear of spoilers).
Another strong novel from a very talented young writer.
I love a good family saga, and this was excellent. I found it more accomplished than Jaded, by the same author, and I loved the three characters - Hana, a somewhat mysterious young woman, keeps to herself, left Korea in the 1980s; her daughter Ada, half British, half Korean; and Hana's mother Youngja who lives with them in London and has dementia. Hana's husband has just died and Ada is trying to understand her mother better, but the key isn't in 2008 Richmond, it's in 1985 Korea under military dictatorship. It was well written and enjoyable, a solid historical fiction. The relationship between Hana and her mother Youngja was really moving, complex and interesting, and I loved the chapters written from Youngja's perspective, I think an unreliable narrator isn't always easy to pull off but Ela Lee did it superbly. I'll definitely read what she writes next.
Thank you to Vintage for the proof of one of my most anticipated reads of the year. I read Jaded when it came out and absolutely adored the writing and how honest and raw Ela’s writing was.
Minbak is a beautifully written, multigenerational story set between London and Korea. The authors ability to take the reader on a journey and weave the past and present together seamlessly blew me away.
Characters are introduced who provide context and I loved that there is no filler, everyone has a purpose. There are no wasted words or chapters. I enjoyed everyone’s perspective- sometimes with a multi perspective story I prefer one characters POV to another’s but that didn’t happen here.
This is written with a lot of heart and it’ll will stay with me for a long time.
once again, ela lee brings a CORKER of a novel with 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗯𝗮𝗸. effortless storytelling mixed with vibrant, memorable characters, made this book so very good, and one of my top reads of 2025 🏆
after reading and loving 𝗷𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗱 last year (review posted on my grid, ★★★★½) I was super keen to read ela’s next book and had my hopes set high… and boy, this book delivered. grief, loss, heartbreak, displacement, secrets, lies, generational trauma + the things we do for the ones we love. and I’m BARELY scratching the surface here!! it’s unbelievable what ela covers in this book.
𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭: three generations of women cross continents and decades to find truth, forgiveness and compassion. tragedy strikes mother and daughter, hana and ada, while they are living in london, and they are forced to convert their house into a minbak. youngja, hana’s mother, moves in with them and as her dementia settles deeper, the three women must face their family’s dark history and the life-shattering secret of an entire country, long overdue its exposure.
read if you like:
📕 multigenerational fiction novels 📕 truly gorgeous + tender writing that moves you 📕 authors who consistently deliver great new reads
*huge thank you to penguin vintage + ela for sending me an advanced proof, I cannot wait for everyone to read this wonderful novel and fall in love with ada, hana + youngja (coming march 2026!) 🫶
All I can say is WOW! This is an emotional story following three generations of Korean women - a story filled with trauma, grief and compassion. I thought it was beautifully written, moving from the past in 1980s to 2008 and capturing a very complicated time in Korean history. I thought the characters were written well and I liked being able to feel the emotion from each one of them - even those characters who only had a minor role. I was hooked from the start and had to fight back tears at some points! I'm so glad I had the chance to read it.
Thank you Random House UK, Vintage & NetGalley for the advanced copy!
Minbak, Ela Lee’s second novel, starts as a dark personal story but slowly opens out to reveal a national tragedy. The story takes as its centre three generations of women who circle around an event kept secret for many years. The “minbak” of the title is a Korean word for a family-run boarding house or guest house. The plot will oscillate between two of these in different time periods as the secrets slowly come to light. The main plot opens in London in 2008. Hana has just lost her husband and soon finds things are much worse than that as he dies with serious debts that he accrued through the global financial crisis. In order to make ends meet Hana decides to turn her house into a minbak, she moves her mother Youngja out of care and together with teenage daughter Ada moves into a single room of the house while renting out the other rooms to Korean tourists and visitors. This way of living reflects her young adulthood in the mid 1980s in Incheon, living and working in the minbak run by her mother. The narration will drop back often to this time and place and the impact of events there on Hana and Youngja. All three women have secrets and their close living arrangements and Youngja’s dementia, where she confuses her granddaughter for her daughter, start to bring the secrets from that earlier time to the surface. Minbak is a beautifully observed novel of three generations of women, the differences between them but also some of the resonances of their past and present. Each is a slight step further from their Korean heritage – Ada was born in England to a Korean mother and English father, Hana came to England as a young adult and her mother Youngja only came later in life as neither of Hana’s siblings would care for her. So their experience and understanding of the central mystery in this book is very different. But Minbak is more than just the story of one family. At first it is unclear why Lee drops in short chapters from the point-of-view of very minor characters in terms of the main story. But slowly it comes clear that she has a bigger story that she wants to tell. And that is the story of the large scale exporting of Korean babies for adoption, particularly to the United States, in the 1980s. This puts the story of Youngja and Hana into the context of a much larger, almost industrial, process which fed off the social pressure for women not to try and be single mothers. Minbak works on a number of levels. It is first and foremost an emotionally resonant tale of three women coming to terms with both their past and their present. But it also exposes the South Korean adoption industry of the 1980s which saw possibly thousands of babies sold to parents overseas and evidence of their parentage either hidden or destroyed. But while the subject matter is dark and poignant, Lee also celebrates her protagonists and focusses on the importance of their connection to each other and their resilience.
We begin in the 1980s in South Korea, where we meet Hana, a young girl living in a minbak(A family run guesthouse, as I know now ) where a new born baby disappears. This sets the scene for a story that moves across decades and continents.
We follow 3 women Hana , her mother and her teenage daughter. After the sudden death of Hana’s husband, these three are brought into close proximity to survive and cope with their grief. The novel gradually reveals secrets that have helped to shape their lives.
Through these very different women, we find out what is remembered, what is kept hidden and what was hoped would be lost altogether. We are given an insight of what it is to live with dementia. It’s so well done here giving us snapshots of lucidity, haziness and complete memory loss.
All in all, Minbak is beautifully written. A book that balances family dynamics with a political historical perspective. Emotionally driven, dealing with multi generational trauma and a country in political unrest at times, it’s not a light read, it’s a raw, compelling and touching read. 💖
“The sun rose, the seasons rolled, the moon hugged the planet, powerful men plotted their great design. Ordinary families played like pawns.”
“Deep in her subterranean, she had already learned to be loved for what she could do, more than who she was.”
“Same old, all across the globe. Women exaggerated into whores, victims or saints. Nothing changes if nothing changes.”
“We all have our stories, every single one of us.”
“Home wasn’t a place. It was your people.”
Through the perspective of three women, Lee illustrates how a choice made in one timeline (made to ameliorate a problem) affects the generations to come. Especially when said choice is made a time of political unrest.
The way books can transport us to worlds and histories that we weren’t privy to - Is just so awe inducing. It’s also then difficult to know that people have suffered so much in the different corners of world, their plight stifled from the masses. A bittersweet feeling really.
I won’t say much about the narrative because going in blind, really sucked me into the story and caused me to contemplate the book’s quiet intensity about a common yet intricate issue.
A multi-generational family story following three women between South Korea in 1985 and London 2008. Set in a boarding house the story is followed with guilt, resilience and family secrets.
What I Struggled With: ⭐️ The characters felt somewhat flat, and some of the narratives came across as boring.
⭐️ I enjoyed learning about South Korean culture, but at times it felt as though certain parts were presented in a non-fiction style rather than through storytelling. (I think with further editing and maybe a change from 3rd person to 1st person narrative may have worked better here).
What I Loved: ⭐️ The exploration of the fine line between a mother making a decision for herself and one that is truly in her child’s best interest.
⭐️ The family secrets were written incredibly well. The sense of the unknown created a chilling atmosphere throughout the story, especially as the characters felt so disconnected from one another.
⭐️ The themes of Alzheimer’s, young pregnancy, and shame.
Even though I wasn’t completely engrossed in this book and probably won’t be thinking about it much in the near future, I still think the story is worth reading. I’ve seen many raving reviews about it, so my opinion may just be an unpopular one. 😀
4.5 but rounding up cos - generosity! Slow start for me but also I kept picking it up and putting it down due to la bebe. I felt at parts the writing was a bit obvious, and it was a bit neat. BUT it actually surprised me at towards the end, I didn’t know it was going to go in that direction - commentary on the adoption industry of South Korea in the 70s-80s. Fascinating, harrowing and tragic. Yet again women being the ultimate losers of a patriarchal and misogynistic system. Leaving out the narratives of Yohan and John i thought was a well calculated choice, and I loved the authors note at the back that showed it was clearly a well researched and considered novel, aiming to give those stripped of identity a voice.
At the moment this is 4.5 stars but I sense I may come back & change to 5 stars. Once again I learnt something about a time in history I had no knowledge of, but I also feel I know more about Korean culture, particularly from the female perspective. The language and imagery is beautifully described and the audible version was narrated by Lee herself which I think also enhanced the experience. 3 generations of women - daughter , mother & grandmother tell the story - and Lee explains whilst fiction, this scenario was very real to many Korean families. Their story will stay with me ❤️
"Youngja sent these photos to Hana all these years agoto remind her that, no matter the miles and seas and continents that separated them, she had a home. That she had a connection to a life before now. They suspended an innocent time, before their inhabitants had to live with the certainty of decisions that couldn't be undone. Precisely in their simplicity - a tree, a school, a home - they held a motherland. A thousand words."
An amazing piece of writing that takes you on a journey of motherhood through 3 generations. It also touches on dementia and adoption issues of South Korea that started in the 1950s and became an economical treasure.
Je suis fan des histoires intergénérationnelles, j’espèrais que celle-ci me rappelle Panchinko. Ça avait un peu moins d’envergure, c’était un peu moins bouleversant, mais tout de même très bon.
I picked up this book from a book shop, with only reading the blurb on the back and refusing to go on Goodreads. Best decision I’ve made, truely such a beautiful, heart wrenching story
The story revolves around three generations of women. Hana Park who is living in the UK, recently became a widow, was married to Tim Penny and has a daughter Ada. Their lives are influenced by several factors, including the political situation of South Korea around 1980s and the choices they made in the past.
What led Hana to leave her country and move to the UK? After her husband's death, how do they run the guest house (minbak) to cope with their financial crisis?
The story's timeline continuously shifts between the 1980s and 2008. It explores the political chaos and industrial revolution that now define the lives of the people including the Park family. One credit I will give to the author is that she has explained everything in significant detail. The clashes between the civilian and military regimes and how they affected the lives of ordinary people like Youngja and Hana, are portrayed well.
This novel also dives into the toxic patriarchal system of that time. Instead of leading their families in difficult times and consulting their households in every decision the men shy away from their true role, making women endure the consequences of their wrong decisions while belittling the efforts they made throughout their lives. Youngja especially did so much for her household but neither her husband nor her sons appreciated her efforts in the end.
The irresponsible decision during this political unrest leads to a chain of events that entangles Ada in 2008. Hana is actually the center of this story. She escaped her past through the efforts of her mother, which has now made her emotionally distant even from her own daughter. I loved how the author described their situation, the pain, the betrayals even by family members trying to save each other and how they healed with time.
This story also tells about the illegal adoption of Korean children by countries around the world, something I had no idea about. The author also cites all her research at the end of the book.
It's hard to put into words how beautifully written this book is. I couldn't have asked for a better ending to their story. Fans of Pachinko will love it but in my opinion Minbak is even better than Pachinko..
Set in a non-sequential plot across a few decades from the 80s to early 2000s, Minbak follows the story of 3 generations of women, Young-ja, her daughter, Hana and granddaughter, Ada. It tells the story of Hana, growing up during the Korea uprisings, and American influences through its Christian mercenaries, industrialisation and economy in the 80s.
The author, being half Korean uses an abundant number of Korean words, some are already widely known eg. minbak, banchan etc. while some need assistance from Google translate. As someone who has read similar premise of the hardship of early Korea especially during the wars, the themes continued by the author from various other sides like rising from dictator leadership and the resultance of America in shaping Korea we see today.
While I generally do not have an issue with the non-linear storytelling, jumping back and forth across decades, transitions between scenes felt uneven and abrupt for me. I occasionally found myself having to reread the pages a few times for clarity.
Despite it all, Minbak is a perfect pick for the month of #KoreanMarch and #Womenhistorymonth with the themes of women empowerment in a patriarchal society in Korea.
Minbak in Korea is a known as a traditional homestay or guest house where people get to stay and experience a bit of how it is to actually in korean house. Minbak is mostly small and confined, where people in that house could easily passing each other on a daily basis. Ela Lee centralizes the core of the story in this novel around the main protagonist, Hana. She grew up in her family’s traditional guesthouse, and later have to build Her Own Minbak in London after her husband passed away.
The narrative Lee builds is intentionally goes back and forth in timeline between Hana, her mom (Youngja), and her daughter (Ada) - because memories does. Sometimes it goes back and forth. They are forced to co-live in the minbak, where there were LOTS of revealed inter generational trauma through a forced-shared-spaces. It is the literal concept of: when you look from afar, it is pretty. But not so much when you really look into it.
I genuinely enjoy every small intentional detail that Lee puts only to be seen and understood by women. It makes me feel seen.
Moving and healing at the same time, tackling a huge historical scandal with simultaneous subtlety and howling sadness. More than that, it expounds upon the sacrificial female experience and the desperate complexity of mother daughter ties so well, the wrench of a mother's love, the betrayals made with good intention, the cycle of hurt and, most profoundly, the bizarre ease and gentleness in which acceptance and forgiveness can take shape.
Had only three days to read this before my library deadline hit so thank god this was a page turner lol (though I ended up taking four (best 20p spent though, we love libraries 😘)).
I read this as part of a buddy read. It wasn't necessarily something we would have chosen if it wasn't part of a reading challenge. Having said that, I'm pleased that I did read it. The book has been well researched by the author and as a result we are rewarded with a fictional story that feels like like a true account. It's very well written, in particular, the chapters from the POV of a character with dementia deserve a special mention. The story is a heartbreaking one, and with each decision made and the consequences that followed, I could feel the emotions involved along with the characters. This was an important part of South Korean history and the author has given those who suffered a voice, ensuring it isn't something that can be forgotten.
I do love a generational family saga and this was no exception. I read most of this novel in one day as I just couldn’t put it down. Very informative and very emotional. I had no idea about this part of Korea’s history, and the heartache this would have caused so many people. This novel was a powerful insight into the lives of three strong women surrounded by trauma and heartache, these words highlight the power of truth telling as a method towards healing deep wounds.
I loved Lee's Jaded and so picked this against my better judgement as sweeping family sagas are not really my thing - but the combination of Korean history and Lee's writing was irresistible. I should have trusted my instincts... I'm sure lots of people will love this but the conventional format of three women to represent three generations, the short chapters and choppy switches between them meant I just never settled into this. 2.5 stars.