As a massive fan of South Korean media, I couldn't wait to get stuck into this,

One Hundred Shadows is interesting. While at times creepy and suspenseful, it's a highly readable yet highly allegorical book about the darkness that follows us. I don't think this will land with all readers, but it certainly hit the spot with me. I liked the characters; they were a little bland, but I think that worked really well with the story that was being told.

A quietly surreal novel about depression, grief, and struggle. I loved the world building in this one. Beautiful, descriptive passages of what felt like a hyper capitalist society. If you enjoy immersive and cerebral books then this one is definitely for you!

Thankyou Netgalley for this ARC copy.

3 STARS

CW: death (of loved ones), suicidal ideation

Thank you to NetGalley for the free ARC in exchange for an honest review.

This book was quintessentially Korean and I really enjoyed that, but, at the same time, the serene and atmospheric writing style is not what I usually gravitate towards. Had I not had the expectation that it would be like this, I think I would have been very disappointed but, alas, I had expected a style that is not necessarily my favorite.

Generally, I thought the story was enchanting, you are dropped in when Mujae and Eungyo are walking through the woods and get pulled out at a later point in time at another location and every scene and chapter you read felt dream-like to me. In the beginning, I was constantly trying to figure out why the main characters were in the forest, how had they gotten there but a lot of questions never get answered.

One thing I have to mention is that none of the dialogue was marked with quotation marks which is usually something that drives me insane. I could work with it in this story because it fit this questionable reality / dreamscape where oftentimes I found myself asking who was even saying what and being relieved when a name was mentioned again so I definitely knew who was speaking. Maybe that was the formatting in the eBook though.

All in all, this was a very interesting book and even though I know magical realism is not really my favorite, I did enjoy the book and had many thoughts while reading. Therefore, I'd definitely recommend picking this up if the summary intrigues you in any way.

the shadows of a Seoul neighborhood's residents are beginning to "rise" but whatever you do, you must not follow where those shadows go. in this curious atmosphere, two coworkers begin an uneven romance, as their community falls apart around them. Short but incredible, One Hundred Shadows is perfect for fans of Yoko Ogawa and Han Kang.
- quote I loved: "If I were dark myself then I wouldn't be hemmed in by the darkness around me, or fear that darkness, would I?"

<i>My heartfelt thanks to NetGalley and Kensington Books for the opportunity to read the ARC in exchange for an honest review.</i>

<i>One Hundred Shadows</i> is part gentle magical realism, part scathing social critique set in a slum electronics market in central Seoul, a place rich in <i>stalls displaying dried up lizards, alarmclocks, synthetic leather belts, batteries, shoes, and hats</i> and all the oddball and charming characters you expect in a setting of this kind, like a lamp salesman who puts his wares into the plastic pouch "like putting rice puffs into the mouths of an eager baby sparrow" and always adds an extra in case one lamp breaks in transit (true, you get the same kind of service in large department stores, but "you don’t feel that they did it out of any genuine consideration for you", y'know, a character adds--and here I can't help but roll my eyes because that's how you get unrealistic expectations of salespeople: it's not enough that they do their job, they also often have to perform being the customers' pal, so I'm not sure if this rose-tinted romanticizing depiction is actually productive if you are shining the light on the discontents in the lives of the working poor.)

The protagonists, Eungyo and Mujae, work dead-end jobs as repair-shop assistants: socio-economically, they come from the sort of place where the only social mobility you can realistically expect is a downward slide, but there's warmth, dignity and companionship in their life. It's not a life of luxury, but they make do, more or less, until gentrification reaches their neighborhood. Their market is to be razed to make room for a nice public park with those hostile architecture-type benches where you can't lie down to prevent the homeless from making themselves too comfortable by the gentrified area's standards.

<i>I’d never thought of this place as a slum. I know, right? Mujae sat up a little straighter. My father used to sell stoves here.
[...]
I wonder if they call this kind of place a slum, because if you called it someone’s home or their livelihood that would make things awkward when it comes to tearing it down. I wonder.
Slum, they say.
Slum.
Slum.
Slum.
Strange, isn’t it?
Yeah, it is.</i>

The magical realist element of the novella is that when people feel helpless against the pressures of society, their shadows can rise and acquire a degree of independent agency, spelling their owners' doom. It creates a sense of dread and desperation, but I'm ultimately not sold on the whole "corporations: bad, old timey ma-and-pa shops: good; industrial modernity: problematic, some alternative: feasible." I'm assuming that, on average, the quality of life and work conditions is improving, if not at the rate we like, and even if living in times of transition comes with major challenges.

The translation reads smoothly and colloquially, at least to my non-native speaker ear, but I am perennially weirded out by the foreignizing trend in translations from East Asian literatures. Take sunshowers, for example. They have idiomatic names in many languages; for example, in Ukrainian, you call them "mushroom rain." Most translators from European languages would just find an equivalent in their target language and call them sunshowers. Translators from East Asian languages meanwhile seem somewhat more likely to translate idioms literally, like this-ish:

<i>여우비 Yeowoo-bi lit. “fox rain” In common with many other cultures, Koreans refer to a sunshower using this lovely epithet— the meteorological phenomenon of rain while the sun shines apparently indicating the wedding of a fox. ... Using a literal translation rather than the more prosaic “sunshower” seemed appropriate for the eerie, shape-shifting nature of this darkly modern fairy tale.</i>

Not what I'd opt for as a reader or as a translator, but very handy if you enjoy collecting nifty little stories about idioms and expressions in other languages.

To sum up, the novella strikes a nice balance between overpowering rage at modernity and a gentle sense of wonder at small moments in life, but ultimately, I felt like it was much heavier on the atmosphere than on plot or characterization, and for me, it was somewhat too long and repetitive for an atmosphere-driven piece.

I feel a little ambivalent toward
this story. The prose was well-written & poetic but I feel like the metaphor present wasn’t carved out enough. To me, this was a story of solitary lives & generalized depression - the shadows being a metaphor for this? Given this, so little happens that a part of me isn’t sure what the author is trying to convey. I did enjoy the slice of life glimpse at Korea. But overall, I’m not sure I fully understand the story presented.

I have very few words for this book, it was intriguing and mysterious. I was constantly confused to what was happening but in a way that just added so much more to the experience. That being said because it's a translation there are some parts that are a little confusing due to sentence structure being changed and it sometimes feels like the meaning is lost. Despite it being a translation there is a lot of depth to the story and I did really enjoy it.

Advanced Reader Copy received through Netgalley, all thoughts and opinions are my own :)

- "One Hundred Shadows" conveys a sense of unease and tension as residents' shadows begin to rise in a Seoul slum.
- The novella explores the emotional turmoil faced by two employees, Eungyo and Mujae, as they witness their community being torn apart.
- Feelings of uncertainty and fear permeate the narrative, adding depth to the characters' struggles.
- Despite the bleakness, a growing connection between Eungyo and Mujae provides a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
- Through subtle yet powerful social commentary, the novella evokes deep contemplation on the futility of life in a capitalist society, leaving readers with a lingering sense of introspection.

[received arc from netgalley and kensington publishing, thank you!]

bleak and dreamy, this book was a brief but impactful look at the atmosphere of a south korean electronics market; the environment of this book was very striking and conveyed so much in such a short time. though the characters and plot were a bit sparse [and maybe intentionally so] you understand so much about the instability and intangibility of these characters' futures and desires, as impacted as they are by the threat of demolition and the seeming superfluousness of their mundane occupations.

3.25/5
The premise of the book sounded very interesting. I think that the first half of the book drew me in. However, Once I got into the meat of it the dialogue felt choppy (maybe it's the translation I'm not sure). I wish there was more about the shadows as once I got to the end of the book I just had this feeling of "oh that was it".

If this book was a painting, it would be a watercolour.

The kind where up close it looks like many little splotches of colour and a lot of white background but from a distance, this beautiful picture appears and the unpainted parts tell just as much as the paint. It's quiet and not flashy. It leaves you with a lot to think and wonder about.

One Hundred Shadows tells fragments of the story about Eungyo and Mujae and their hesitant, sometimes awkward relationship. Both live alone and work as repair shop assistants in the same huge industrial complex with small stalls selling and fixing all kinds of hardware. The owners of the stalls are barely eeking out an existence and the complex is being demolished section by section by the city. Hwang Jungeun layers magic realism with social commentary using the Korean folklore of shadows. Various characters describe their shadow rising and the danger of following it away from their day-to-day lives.

I loved this novella and wanted to stretch it out as long as possible. Jung Yewon did an excellent job translating it. Thank you to Net Galley and Erewhon Books for this ARC.

Thank you Kensington Books for providing this book for review consideration via Netgalley. All opinions are my own.

Premise:
In a Seoul slum marked for demolition, residents’ shadows have begun to rise. No one knows how or why–but, they warn each other, do not follow your shadow if it wanders away.

As the landscape of their lives is torn apart, building by building, electronics-repair-shop employees Eungyo and Mujae can only watch as their community begins to fade. Their growing connection with one another provides solace, but against an uncaring ruling class and the inevitability of the rising shadows, their relationship may not be enough.

My rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

This is a short book with quite easy language, meaning you'll probably read through this pretty quickly. However, the subject matter is not light or easy to digest in the slightest. Dealing with the subject of gentrification, this book beautifully shows the uncertainty that the characters deal with in regards to their future. Furthermore, the idea of rising shadows that are trying to lure you away is really enticing, and sounds like a true modern myth. This aspect gives the story an overall eerie vibe, like you constantly have to watch your back.

The only thing that put me off about this book is that, sometimes, the translation feels a little off. Some sentences are construed weirdly, making the translation feel a bit awkward at times.

Overall, I definitely recommend this book! It's very thought-provoking and beautifully written.

Thank you to Netgalley and Erewhon Books for providing this ARC.

Unfortunately keeping the format of writing when translating this text might not serve it for english readers.
I felt really disconnected from this book, the characters, the story.
It is, in part, due to the way it is written, words had no impact on me, I didn't understand the direction or the meaning. The lack of descriptions left me at a profound loss.
There are plenty of other, much more educated reviews to be found online. But from an entertainment point of view, this didn't do it for me.

DNF @ 9%

I am really sorry I didn’t give this one too much of a go. But I cannot read something that doesn’t even give dialogue quotation marks. It’s so hard to differentiate the dialogue from the rest of the book, especially when it is a translated novel and it’s already a bit clunky.

I have DNF on goodreads, but not given a rating.

When at 15% into a book, I have no clue what I’m reading, it’s not a good sign. Sometimes I have the energy to push through my confusion and stay on, but normally it’s because a little something is appealing: the writing, the period, the characters. Or simply the food or the atmosphere. Here I staid a little more, because the characters were eating some delicious Korean food I’d had before.

I was convinced I was in a sort of fairy tale with two characters in the woods following their shadows, but now I’m in the middle of an old building in Seoul, with people repairing electronics and telling unbearably sad life stories. So at 25% I decided to save some time for other books that I would understand more. There was some weird thing about whorls, which I had to look up (not the kind of word that you encounter every day, right?). My whole review would probably be summed up in 3 letters: wtf have I read? Sorry, this book is not for me right now. If you have read it and find that I’ve totally missed the point, don’t hesitate to leave a comment, I might give it another chance if someone points me in the right direction.

One Hundred Shadows by Hwang Jungeun was already published in English translation but I've read this new edition by Erewhon Books who were gracious enough to provide me with a digital ARC in exchange for my honest opinion.

One Hundred Shadows is set in a slum electronics market in Seoul, a really intriguing setup. Probably my favorite things about this novel were the setting and the atmosphere, both of which were very vividly painted by the author.

The two main characters, Eungyo and Mujae dropped out of school to work in different repair shops as assistants. While they're satisfied with this lifestyle, as well as the other people working in the electronics market seem to be, there's a looming threat over their days as the city wants to erase these 'sore spots' and redevelop the area.

Then there's the phenomenon that the inhabitants of the slum started to have their shadows rise, which is discussed by the characters of the book in a very unemotional, pragmatic fashion. It's never really explained, so I first guessed what this symbolizes is up to the reader's interpretation. However, I've later read that it's heavily inspired by and serves as a tribute to victims of the 2009 Yongsan apartment incident (it's a bit too long to describe here but it's easy to look up if anyone's interested). This definitely gives a more layered meaning to this otherwise quite bleak and surreal piece of writing.

Surreal elements and abstract stories are not my favorites, so I struggled a bit with that aspect. However, the atmosphere and the well-written dialogues made up for it. It's also a very short book (more like a novella than a novel) which definitely helped too. If you enjoy these styles and just Korean fiction in general, this is a must-read!

*I received an ARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thanks for the free book!*

"One Hundred Shadows" is an odd book, it feels foggy, like a dream somehow. The story takes place in a slum electronics market in Seoul, where two higher education dropouts try to make ends meet. There is also some supernatural or ghostly business going on with shadows rising, something that is mentioned frequently but not really explored. Eungyo and Mujae are odd as well, their tentative romance (?) often lost in contact with each other, they do not really talk. This part from Eungyo's POV gave me this awkward coming of age uncertainty vibe, but the entire book is mysterious in the sense that nothing is fully explored. It is well written and has this dream like quality but many things also remain in the dark.

3.5 stars

I feel a bit shorted since this is not an arc, this book came out in 2016. I don’t understand why it is marketed no NetGalley as a new release.

One Hundred Shadows focuses on Eungyo and Mujae, who live in a slum electronics market in central Seoul. Their area is marked for demolition and the book focuses mainly on their conversations as they navigate the city developments.

I heard that this book was very much abstract, using descriptive scenery and the rise of 'shadows' to touch on some very hard hitting concepts. Unfortunately I didn't feel as drawn in and I thought I would be.

The main issue I had was the formatting of the text. The lack of speech marks around dialogue and weird paragraphing made it very difficult to read and understand. I'm not sure if this format was intended or not, as I know this has been translated. Either way, it made digesting the narrative very tricky, not knowing who was speaking, whether something was description or a thought, etc.

I also found that when I reached then I still had a lot of questions. It didn't seem like the last page was supposed to be the last page - it just ended very suddenly in the midst of a situation.

Maybe I missed the imagery and references this book was trying to create, as so many other reviews are positive, but I think that this just wasn't for me.

For me, this was perfect.

I loved the style of Hwang Jungeun's writing and I am looking forward to reading more of her books.

The story follows Mujae and Eungyo, two young people working in repair shops in building B of a crowded market complex. The complex is in the early stages of being gentrified.

In this world, a person's shadow can rise, becoming a 3-dimensional figure, separate from their body, after they experience trauma and compounded sadness. This feels very realistic and troubling in the book.

I really liked the critique of the desensitization that is cultivated by capitalist systems. I think this quote captures it well, "I wonder if they call this kind of place a slum, because if you called it someone's home or their livelihood that would make things awkward when it comes to tearing it down."

Mujae describes the memory of seeing a woman and a man fight over reclaimed rags and cardboard boxes, which they plan to sell. The man ends up giving up his and the woman dies later that day, depicting the futility of human life in capitalist systems. As Mujae says, "Even after her children came and held a funeral for her, her handcart remained where she'd left it. There wasn't much in it, just a few boxes, lumps of Styrofoam and torn sheets of plastic, and as I looked at it I thought, A person can die for the sake [of] such things, a person can die and this is all they leave behind,"

I really enjoyed how the story was told through a series of separate scenes and memories. And I liked how Jungeun wrote dialogue without using quotation marks. While somewhat confusing at times, it gave the book a unique and familiar conversational feel.

I liked how the book begins with Mujae guiding Eungyo thorugh dangerous terrain after her shadow rises, and ends with Eungyo doing the same for Mujae.

I found it somewhat amusing that Mujae passes the orange peel theory TikTok challenge.

Also, I made a playlist for this book, because I guess that's what I do now. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0FXS4MZCTW5JKw9gVLPZXQ

Thank you to NetGalley and Erewhon Books for providing me with an e-arc ahead of the publication of the new edition.