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emilietje 's review for:
We Do Not Part
by Han Kang
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
This is it. This is the book where Han Kang really, truly shines. The pacing is perfect. The imagery pulls at emotions I hadn't thought about in a while. The switching between storylines is so gorgeous and well-timed. Han Kang is a choir conductor and guides her voices to weave in and out of each other so so so beautifully and painfully.
I cried a couple of times. I felt something that I can’t describe very well, but I felt something that made me cry. I'd read a sentence of no big importance and tears would well up. The first time it happened, I realised that this story had done a perfect job of worming its way into my heart and making me think about things that sit at the core what I believe makes up my humanness.
"At some point, she stopped mistaking me for her sisters. She stopped thinking of me as a grown-up who was there to save her, and she stopped asking for help. She spoke to me less and less, and the words she did say were sporadic and scattered, like islands. Then she stopped saying even yes or no, and with that her desires and requests seemed to vanish too. Still, when I placed a peeled mandarin in her hand, she would split it and give me back the bigger half out of lifelong habit, and smile. At which my heart would fall open."
This is her best work. I'm going to think about We Do Not Part a lot.
"Something deep within my heart had dislodged and the blood that streamed from that gouged space was no longer red or flowing. Instead, a flickering pain throbbed at its jagged surface that only resignation could still... I knew that was where my mum had also found herself. Waking from a nightmare, splashing water on my face and gazing at the mirror, I saw the same persistent quality in my features that had branded hers. What astounded me was the sun's rays, that they returned each day. Steeped in the afterimage of my dreams, I would walk to the woods and find their brutally beautiful light penetrating the foliage and creating thousands upon thousands of light drops. Skeletal forms glimmered over the bright beads."
I cried a couple of times. I felt something that I can’t describe very well, but I felt something that made me cry. I'd read a sentence of no big importance and tears would well up. The first time it happened, I realised that this story had done a perfect job of worming its way into my heart and making me think about things that sit at the core what I believe makes up my humanness.
"At some point, she stopped mistaking me for her sisters. She stopped thinking of me as a grown-up who was there to save her, and she stopped asking for help. She spoke to me less and less, and the words she did say were sporadic and scattered, like islands. Then she stopped saying even yes or no, and with that her desires and requests seemed to vanish too. Still, when I placed a peeled mandarin in her hand, she would split it and give me back the bigger half out of lifelong habit, and smile. At which my heart would fall open."
This is her best work. I'm going to think about We Do Not Part a lot.
"Something deep within my heart had dislodged and the blood that streamed from that gouged space was no longer red or flowing. Instead, a flickering pain throbbed at its jagged surface that only resignation could still... I knew that was where my mum had also found herself. Waking from a nightmare, splashing water on my face and gazing at the mirror, I saw the same persistent quality in my features that had branded hers. What astounded me was the sun's rays, that they returned each day. Steeped in the afterimage of my dreams, I would walk to the woods and find their brutally beautiful light penetrating the foliage and creating thousands upon thousands of light drops. Skeletal forms glimmered over the bright beads."