Harare Review of Books

154 pages.

First published in 2020.

Finished reading on 27 Oct 2021.

Genre: Literary Fiction.

Supplied blurb: As if Marguerite Duras wrote Convenience Store Woman – a beautiful, unexpected novel from a debut French Korean author

It’s winter in Sokcho, a tourist town on the border between South and North Korea. The cold slows everything down. Bodies are red and raw, the fish turn venomous, beyond the beach guns point out from the North’s watchtowers. A young French Korean woman works as a receptionist in a tired guesthouse. One evening, an unexpected guest arrives: a French cartoonist determined to find inspiration in this desolate landscape.

The two form an uneasy relationship. When she agrees to accompany him on trips to discover an ‘authentic’ Korea, they visit snowy mountaintops and dramatic waterfalls, and cross into North Korea. But he takes no interest in the Sokcho she knows – the gaudy neon lights, the scars of war, the fish market where her mother works. As she’s pulled into his vision and taken in by his drawings, she strikes upon a way to finally be seen.

An exquisitely-crafted debut, which won the Prix Robert Walser, Winter in Sokcho is a novel about shared identities and divided selves, vision and blindness, intimacy and alienation. Elisa Shua Duspain’s voice is distinctive and unmistakable.

Only realising now that the main character doesn’t have a name 😄 Anyway.

Atmospheric, beautiful. The author creates a world that’s close, dark, cold, oppressive, in which the protagonist, the complicated centre of the novel, drifts. This woman seems depressed and aimless, maybe looking for ways to damage herself. She’s struggling with body image issues (and a possible eating disorder), partly caused by her plastic surgery-obsessed society, but also by her mother, who alternates between affirming her in her appearance, and making cutting comments. She (the protagonist) is also in an unsatisfying relationship with a model (!), one that she secretly seems desperate to escape.

The theme of escape is really strong in the novel. The protagonist is also half-French, although she never knew her French father; and is drawn to a guest who comes to stay at the guest house where she works. Other readers have thought that maybe there was something of seeing her unknown father in him; I didn’t think so, except if that was happening to her subconsciously. I think she may have been sexually attracted to him, but in complicated ways (she’s complicated!). He, on the other hand, is distant, stuck inside himself with his personal demons, and a very striking loner. (A rather unpleasant creature.)

He didn’t respond. Perhaps I bored him. But so what? His moods weren’t my problem. Why should I worry about filling the silences?

Things go as badly as you may imagine. The plot isn’t complicated; the author concentrates instead on building tension and yes, atmosphere, as the characters interact. There is quite a lot of quiet exploration of the Western gaze, in addition to some commentary on South Korean society. Mostly, though, we get to know this woman, see the French man through her eyes, and explore themes on bodies.

The ending… Well, I’m going to be wondering for a long time. I think I understand it, but if you’re looking for a neatly done one, this won’t be it.

Read if you like character studies, reading about complex women, moody and atmospheric books. It’s really short, but packs a punch. Avoid if you struggle with some of the topics covered: content warnings for animal death (the prep of seafood 😬), some really intense body image issues and eating disorders, other gross body descriptions (there’s one particular side character 😩). I’ve become pretty squeamish, and I squam.

Giving this book a very high rating, because it was an unexpected pleasure. It seems to be quite underrated (3.67 on GR?!), which is really unfortunate, as it is a gem. Perhaps people are put off by how little plot there is; but it is perfect for what it is, a very specific commentary. Clearly beautifully translated 👏🏿 so congrats, too, to Aneesa Abbas Higgins.

Rated: 9/10.