There was a time when Korea felt like a question mark.
Growing up, we remember how often people would ask if we were from North or South Korea, as if the two were interchangeable, or mistake Koreans for something else entirely. In Brazil or the United States, the confusion took different forms, but the underlying feeling was the same: Korea existed somewhere at the edges of global awareness — visible, but not fully seen.
Today, that has changed. Korea is everywhere. From the global rise of K-pop to the influence of Korean beauty, the country has moved from the margins to the center of cultural attention. Scroll through social media and you will find endless interpretations of Korean life — foreigners documenting their routines in Seoul, commenting on work culture or decoding social norms. Korea, it seems, has become legible.
But being visible is not the same as being understood.
Last month, one of us participated in a book club in Brazil where the novel in discussion was “We Do Not Part,” by Korean author Han Kang. This was such an interesting coincidence, as the choice for the book of the month actually came from a Brazilian participant, with no close ties to Korea, except for the fact that they had also read another novel from the same author — “The Vegetarian.”
During the discussions surrounding the book, we were quite taken aback by the fact that it seemed that most people did not enjoy the novel, expressing that they did not understand or enjoy the stylistic choices made by the author, particularly the fact that the book blurred the lines of reality and fantasy, where readers are left in a state of uncertainty. Others described feeling unsettled or dissatisfied, as though the story resisted the kind of resolution they had expected.
One comment particularly stood out to us. A participant observed that the book’s fragmented structure, its tendency to present scenes almost like isolated film takes, felt distinctly “American” in style. The implication was that this was an imported or external aesthetic choice, something that distanced the novel from what they expected a Korean story to feel like.
It was a small remark, but a revealing one.
Because to us, the fragmentation did not feel foreign at all. If anything, it felt deeply familiar.
The book, for those who are unfamiliar, narrates the story of a Korean woman who goes on a journey to Jeju, whose experiences lead her to reflect upon the tragic events surrounding the massacres that happened on the island a few years before the Korean War.
Source: Korea Times News
