The only other novel I've read by Han Kang was The Vegetarian, and I knew then that Kang was an author like no other. Using lyrical, poetic language rife with symbolism and metaphor, Kang takes deep political and historical issues and persuades us to think deeply about the human condition. The plot of  We Do Not Part is quite simple; our main character, Kyungha, receives an urgent text from her friend Inseon. Insean has suffered an injury and is being treated in a hospital in Seoul. Inseon tasks Kyungha to go to her home on Jeju Island to care for her bird, which has lost its mate and cannot live longer than a few days in isolation. 
Getting to Jeju Island is quite a task in and of itself; not only does Kyungha suffer debilitating migraines, but she now has to deal with incredibly unreliable remote transportation, blizzards, and hunger. Also, Jeju Island isn't an island; it has a traumatic history where a massacre of tens of thousands of islanders had been slaughtered by anti-communist troops. This novel weaves from reality to surrealism, a ghost story, a psychological study, and a discovery of self.
This novel would make an amazing novel study for high school students. Not only would it serve as a mentor text, but it would also serve as a master class in writing. The themes it possesses would make for deep and meaningful class discussions.
Look at this beautifully descriptive quote: 
"Snow falls. On my forehead and cheeks. On my upper lip, the groove above it. It is not cold. It is only as heavy as feathers, as the finest tip of a paintbrush. Has my skin frozen over? Is my face covered in snow as it would be if I were dead? But my eyelids must not have grown cold. Only the snowflakes clinging to them are."

Though not a true sequel in any sense, We Do Not Part is a spiritual sibling to Kang's earlier work, Human Acts. Both books delve deeply into massacres that spent decades being covered up by the Korean government. And both books blur the lines between life and death. Beyond that, though, the only other parallel between the two books is Kang's distinctly lyrical writing style.

We Do Not Part is not a linear story by any means; the book ambles through flashbacks, dreams, and shifting points of view. Kyungha is the main character, yes, but she's also the catalyst for Inseon's family ties to Jeju and the Uprising. Then there's the snowstorm - practically a character in itself - driving the surreal and dreamlike sequences of this novel.

Ultimately, temporal muddling mixed with the elucidation of an underexplored tragedy (at least on an international scale) is so effective. And no one but Han Kang could write such an unforgettable book.

This is so dreamlike. I can’t tell you if I really u see stood what was happening 100% of the time but the writing was gorgeous!! Kang so deserves her Nobel win. I’ve heard Human Acts is where to go next. Can’t wait to pick it up !

I could not tell if one of the characters was alive... so it's that kind of story. Family, death, protection and attack, birds, so much snow and cold. I don't always understand what is happening in her books but I can FEEL them.

This challenging read covers a period of South Korean history that might come as news to many western readers. Reflecting back to the time after WWII when many nations were freed of their colonizers, this book highlights an event that took place after Korea was liberated from its Japanese colonizers. The country was divided into a northern area under the governance of the Soviets and a southern region under the control of the United States.

The United Nations established a resolution to ensure free and fair elections to be held in South Korea. The goal was a united country governed by the people, but the communist Workers Party of South Korea began protesting and soon this group launched an insurgency. A South Korean paramilitary group stationed in Jeju was mobilized to put down the uprising. With violence from both sides and other actors, this period will go down in history as the Jeju massacre, an event that would later be censored then, for decades, suppressed by the South Korean government.

This book is a deeply moving, dream-like account of one woman’s experience when she travels to Jeju in the service of a friend who is injured and needs someone to care for her pet. As Kyungha travels during a blinding snowstorm that creates a surreal atmosphere, she will imagine horrifying scenes of the tens of thousands of lives brutally taken during this tragic period of Korea’s history.

Kang’s poetic writing style is challenging to track, but it beautifully reflects the dark emotional landscape of this period and the surreal nature of living with such horrific violence at every turn.

Thank you to Random House Publishing Group—Random House and NetGalley for providing this e-galley.
#WeDoNotPart #NetGalley

It’s hard to conceive how a book about death, trauma, and the soulless extermination of innocents could be so beautiful. Han Kang’s writing is incredibly visual and evocative, which makes her scenes of utter devastation so visceral and impactful. This isn’t an uplifting book. It’s not hopeful. It seems to be about finding solace and relief in death. About finding camaraderie in the crushing burden of bearing witness to the most evil acts of humanity. That sometimes bearing witness turns out to be too much to bear. We never learn who is alive and who is dying. Like the little match girl, our hero is possibly dreaming as she dies or possibly imagining her dear friend as she dies. Both friends dream of the relief that comes with death. This book is relentlessly heart wrenching and the enjoyment comes mostly with the appreciation of the sheer skill and beauty of the writing.

We Do Not Part is a beautifully written and deeply reflective novel about loss, trauma, and human connection. Han Kang’s writing is poetic yet accessible, and she dives fearlessly into heavy themes without making the story feel overwhelming. The characters are layered and vulnerable, making their struggles and moments of hope feel genuinely moving.

The story’s pace is gentle and sometimes meditative, which may not be for everyone, but it allows the emotional weight to really land. Some plot threads are intentionally left open, adding to the book’s haunting atmosphere.

Overall, this is a thoughtful, powerful read. Ideal for those who appreciate literary fiction that doesn’t shy away from life’s complexities.

This book was beautifully written with a dream-like quality. However, I do think Han Kang, while undeniably talented, is not a good fit for my personal tastes. I struggled to connect with this one, just as I struggled to connect with the one other book I've read by her. If you are a fan of Kang's work, however, you'll probably enjoy this one as well.

This is only my second time reading Han Kang’s work. Her writing always seems to have a quiet, haunting quality that lingers, and We Do Not Part is no exception. This novel introduced me to the tragic Jeju Massacre—something I had never heard of before—which added another layer of depth (a very, very sad layer). Honestly, sometimes I feel like I’m not smart enough to read her books, but I always love them???

🌲WE DO NOT PART🌲 by Han Kang is a haunting remuneration of one of the darkest parts of Korean history. Thank you to the author, @netgalley and the publisher, @hogarthbooks for the e-ARC.

🪨🪨🪨

This book focuses on a troubling, mostly covered up time period in South Korean history where suspected communists and their sympathizers were slaughtered en masse. The main character is battling terrible weather to rescue a beloved avian pet of her longtime friend who created an artistic tribute to these victims and the story surrounds both of these narratives.

I read this almost two months ago but have struggled to put my thoughts into words. As a contemporary American, I can't help but draw parallels to the fearful, inhumane actions of these South Koreans as I watch the current leaders of my country going down the same road of scapegoating minority groups to explain the ongoing economic and social issues facing us today.

What I see as the main premise or message of this book is that we must require accountability to the actions of our ancestors if we ever expect to evolve past our most basic, ignorant instincts and transcend the tribalistic "othering" that is so pervasive in our world. This book is devastating, inspiring, and will have you feeling all the feels.

If you are in the right headspace for this one, I would highly recommend checking it out. Kang's prose are profound and enlightening and I had to sit with all the heaviness at intervals in the story. Another example of why Kang is a well deserved Nobel Prize winner.

This book was superb, as to be expected by any book from Han Kang. While some of the themes were reminiscent of her other books - isolation, the marriage of history and trauma, bleak landscapes mirroring the narrator"s emotional state - it still felt wholly unique and gripping. Kang's language is always so stark but vivid, mercilessly drawing the reader into the story and remaining unflinching with what unfolds.
I was particularly drawn into the plot line that focuses on friendship and death, the relationship we have with our pasts, how those carry into our present. I thought this was a remarkable book, evocative and dark, a light of the violence our past and how it can be truly buried.

This is a searing, debilitating, poetic mea culpa. I wish I could know more.

Thanks to the publisher for the ARC. All the best to the author. I believe all programming was cancelled at a certain hour last year in South Korea, when a program on Ms. Han Kang was aired.

We Do Not Part is a devastating and surreal novel following an author as she journeys to Jeju to save a bird. This story revolves around the Jeju massacre in the late 1940s, but the heart of the novel focuses on the friendship between Kyungha, the main character, and her friend, Inseon. Throughout the novel, Inseon shares the traumatic events that happened to her family during the massacre with Kyungha.
This novel is a ghost story filled with thousands of ghosts. It's an examination of grief and trauma, not for what has happened to you, but what has happened to your family and people you don't even know. Learning about the atrocities that took place before you were born has its own type of devastation. It's a heartbreak that highly sensitive people, like Kyungha (and assume the author), feel even when they're extremely removed from the situation.
This book is not an enjoyable read, but I highly value my time spent within this story. It's the first time I learned about what happened on Jeju. I'm grateful to Han Kang for sharing this history with me and allowing me to feel it so personally through the characters of Kyungha and Inseon.
This is a book that will stay with me for a long time. I highly recommend it to people who enjoy books that are introspective, surreal, and melancholy.

Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this book!

A new book from Han Kang is a reason to rejoice. The prose is beautiful as always, and though it doesn't quite reach the level of The Vegetarian or Greek Lessons for me, I adored every bit.

How was this my first Han Kang!?! This book was incredible.

If you want a book full of action and plot this is probably not it. But the quiet interiority, internal analysis, and examination of personal and generational trauma and violence is so impactful and haunting made me devour it like I would a fast paced novel.

The imagery of snow along side the ghosts that haunt Kyungha and her friend Inseon acts as a cooling balm, cleansing the horrors of the Jeju Island massacre and the lasting impact it had on the inhabitants that remained.

This novel specifically explores these connections through women’s connections through family and friendship.

This novel is gorgeous and absolutely beautiful. Kang’s prose is so delicate and precise. I felt the unique beauty of snowflakes she speaks of in her sentences which felt even more poignant besides the violence and pain she describes in the history of the place, Inseon’s injury, and Kyungha’s illness.

Kang has easily become an auto read author after only one novel. I cannot wait to read Human Acts which is considered a pair with this novel. It also inspired me to learn more of Korean history because as I read I realized that this was a real history of this place which made me aware of how lacking I am in understanding of this part of the world.

Anywho this was exquisite. One of the first books to make me cry this year and even as I looked at my notes from reading I got misty eyed again thinking about it. I will not forget this novel and its emotional impact on me.

Han Kang’s We Do Not Part is a powerful, emotional novel about memory, grief, and human connection. Kyungha visits Jeju Island to care for a friend’s bird but finds herself unraveling deep pain from the past. The story beautifully blends personal loss with history, showing how we carry pain and love across time. I agree with the prestigious awards this book has been given.

Beautifully written with prose that was heavy on symbolism. I learned a lot about the Jeju massacre that I didn’t know before, and this book really made me feel a lot. However, I felt Inseon’s family’s story wasn’t interwoven well into the present timeline of Kyungha’s journey. I was much more engaged in the vignettes about the uprising and as a result, the dream-like passages about Kyungha’s possible hallucinations just felt like confusing interruptions.

Another masterclass in storytelling from Han Kang. WE DO NOT PART sheds light on a dark, often-forgotten chapter of Korea’s past while toeing the line between dream and reality. Hauntingly beautiful and quietly captivating.

We Do Not Part by Han Kang is an interesting dream-like read. I especially appreciated the imagery of the snow and the island of Jeju. Han Kang is talented at writing about horror. Thanks to Random House and NetGalley for the eARC.

We Do Not Part was an incredible novel. I suggest reading Human Acts first.. I loved the ethereal writing and the uncertainty of what was real and wasn't. great nature writing.