Reviews

The Invisible Hotel by Yeji Y. Ham

thepirsky's review

emotional reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? N/A
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

Simply Outstanding! 

dxdnelion's review

4.0

The Invisible Hotel is a hauntingly imaginative premise emerges woven in with several heavy topics such as generational trauma, grief, politic, war and miscarriage. This story follows our protagonist, Yewon who just recently lost her father, and her brother is in the army and close to the border, while her sister is away from home leaving her to deal with her grief, and her mother who seems to care about the bones in bathtub. Yewon then meets an elderly North Korean refugee whom she drives to the prison outside the city where a long lost relative of hers can be found. Our protagonist are suffering from repeating nightmare in which she visiting a luxury hotel with loads of locked rooms, and keys and inhabited by a strange guests which most of them are injured or dying. The nightmare settings and the concept reminds me a lot of Hotel De Luna, Korean drama.

This evocative & brilliant story was presented in an slow engaging storyline (although confusing at times) while also have reality and dreams intertwined that makes the story a lot more interesting. I honestly didn't fully understand and confused of the book's intention at first. But as I wander through the story, I'm in love with the author deep exploration of heavy topics in an exceptionally subtle manner. The author exposes these emotions in all of their raw and earth-shattering reality. There is this lyrical quality in her writing that emphasizes the emotional isolation, grief that Yewon and her family feels after her father’s death. The magical realism element in the book came naturally, I still a bit confused about the hotel but I would say this book has a lot of layers and symbolism.

The hotel is more like a symbol of Yewon's untold trauma and related to Korean War, which explains a lot about the hotel's guests. The horror element in here is not depend on the settings nor guests itself, but instead the brutality of the War between North and South Korea and the aftereffect. The long and continuation tradition of keeping bones in bathtubs, and also giving birth in miasmic bones of their ancestors so they can never forget their ancestor's trauma, and agony and always remember the war.

"

themandapanda's review

challenging reflective sad tense medium-paced

3.25

1e5eratte's review

challenging dark emotional mysterious reflective sad slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

ahoots17's review

dark emotional mysterious reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

ludwigdvorak's review

dark reflective sad medium-paced

4.0

weirdow's review

dark reflective slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? N/A
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

Very heavy on the imagery, well written if that works for you but it is a bit hard for me. Light on the horror, definitely there though. I think I missed out on quite a bit from lack of cultural context, but still a very good read.

---

Content Warnings

Moderate: Body horror, War, and Pregnancy

bibliomich's review against another edition

challenging dark mysterious tense slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.5

The Invisible Hotel was one that took me a little while to finish. I was immediately entranced by the setting. Yeji Y. Ham does a fantastic job establishing a tone of atmospheric eeriness, and I expected that she would build on that early suspense. However, the book never really felt like it took off for me. The pacing was slow throughout, and even though I genuinely enjoyed the writing, I didn't feel particularly compelled to keep picking up the book. Still, I would absolutely read more writing by Ham.

Thank you to NetGalley for my advanced reader copy.

---

Content Warnings

Graphic: War and Grief

Moderate: Miscarriage

bysherawilliams's review

challenging dark emotional medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated

4.5

andreeavis's review

challenging dark emotional mysterious reflective sad tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.25

While many readers might be surprised by the lukewarm Goodreads rating for The Invisible Hotel, Ham’s debut novel is a deep exploration of trauma, memory, and the lingering scars of war. Reminiscent of Han Kang’s immersive prose, the book explores Yewon’s life, a young woman living in the South Korean village of Dalbit. 

Yewon’s world is one of loss. Her father had died in a fire abroad, her sister grapples with divorce and grief, and her brother serves in the ever-escalating conflict with North Korea. Her mother, stoic and resilient, embodies the weight of history. Yet, the most unsettling element of Dalbit lies within the homes themselves: bathtubs filled with the bones of ancestors, a constant reminder of the past’s cost. Yewon’s mother washes the bones every day, caring for them and for the people they represent. When she picks up a bone, she calls it “he” or “she”, depending on whom it belonged to. The act of washing the bones is a central ritual, both grotesque and poignant. It might represent the villagers’ attempt to both honour their dead and cleanse themselves of the past’s horror. Yewon, who participated in the ritual as a child, is not repulsed by them, their rotten smell that is pervasive in the entire house and her clothes. She sees the bathtub as a place of death, but it is also a place where new life emerges, as the women in Dalbit also give birth in the bathtub, on top of the bones. I found the metaphor of the bones fascinating, and, as you read, you grasp the meaning of the ritual: the bones symbolize the generational war trauma passed down, a burden Yewon will have to choose to accept or reject. The bathtub is where the people that died lay, safe in death. Yewon fights the burden of carrying her ancestors’ trauma, but, as she learns the purpose of the ritual, she gets to understand that the bones are hers to carry, hold, cherish and pass over. 

Back to the plot, having just lost her job, Yewon agrees to drive Ms Han, a North Korean refugee to Yeoju, where she would visit her brother in prison (a few hours away from Dalbit). Their trip to the prison is also symbolic, I believe. She tries, fails, and tries again to connect with Ms Han, who is traumatised by her past and ravaged by panic attacks. Their relationship shows that trauma doesn't know borders and people in both North and South Korea suffer the same. Yeown doesn’t distinguish between her family and Ms Han’s pain, and she takes it upon herself to recognise it and pass it on to the next generation. Loss transcends national borders, we learn. The trauma of war is a universal language, forcing Yewon to confront the suffering on both sides of the divide. This shared burden becomes a crucial element in the novel's message.

There is no real plot apart from Yewon's struggle to come to terms with her father’s death, rebuild her idea of the future, that she put on hold (she was supposed to go to college), and figure out who she is and what she should do next. She is lost and grapples with multiple complex threats at the same time: her grief, her sister’s pain, her brother’s uncertain future, and her mother’s suffering that she hides in cleaning the bone. Yewon’s internal struggle manifests in a recurring dream - a labyrinthine hotel with infinite rooms, devoid of windows and escape. This unsettling space, reminiscent of Kafka’s castle nightmare, becomes a powerful metaphor for the burdens she carries. The old man who haunts the dream - but also the village of Dalbit when awake, ostracised by the villagers but tolerated for the doors and windows he carries to build something he lost in his past, further reinforces the themes of entrapment and yearning for freedom. There might be freedom, as Yewon learns, as the hotel has a window. Will she find it, though? 

While lacking a traditional plot, The Invisible Hotel offers a deeply atmospheric, immersive experience. The short, sharp sentences build tension, drawing the reader into Yewon’s oppressive reality. The book’s horror lies not in jump scares, but in the exploration of psychological torment and the weight of history. It feels almost claustrophobic at times, there seems to be no escape from the hotel, no space to breathe, and no hope. 

This book is not for the faint of heart. It is a dark and unsettling novel, demanding an engaged and patient reader. However, for those seeking a literary experience that analyses the complexities of grief, memory, and the enduring legacy of war, this debut from Ham is a rewarding exploration. Don’t be discouraged by the online ratings. If you enjoy atmospheric horror steeped in metaphor and are willing to tackle difficult themes, The Invisible Hotel offers an immersive and haunting reading experience.