Counterattacks at Thirty is also nothing like Almond. It is not steeped in darkness, and it isn’t likely to reduce you to tears. It’s a significantly lighter read, although it does juggle serious matters. Counter-Attacks At Thirty follows 4 dissatisfied people who have all been taken advantage of in some way or form by The System. I for one, really loved this book.

This one was very different from Sohn’s Almond but I ended up really appreciating this one. It’s been a while since I’ve been at an office and this one made all of the problems with the office-life come right back at me. I think I was very much at Jihye’s existential questioning stage of corporate life before the pandemic. Combine that with Jihye’s musings on how she expected her life and her friends’ lives to turn out; and it all felt very relatable on a lot of levels. I really liked the fighting back aspect of this one, the small scale pettiness was delightful.

COUNTERATTACKS AT THIRTY felt like an inside joke that made me giggle the entire time.

Tired of being pushed around, a small group of office workers decide to push back on the system and stage little protests, showing the upper management how they have been wronged. These petty actions were quite funny and enjoyable to read about.

COUNTER ATTACKS AT THIRTY was very relatable to anyone who has had a job- it's that open. No doubt that power and age dynamics play an important part at any job, this book really focused on what it was like to be "newer" in a job and how that dynamic can affect workers.

The writing was funny, endearing, and captivating all at one, allowing the reader to really sink into the story and ride it until the end.

I really enjoyed this! It highlights a lot of social issues of today’s world and shows it from the perspective of someone in their late twenties/ early thirties.

The affects of an oligarchic society is also highlighted where a small number of conglomerates run / own all major industries in a country.

This was a very relatable book. I will read more by this author.

Thank you to NetGalley, HarperVia and Won-pyung Sohn for giving me an ARC of this book!

I love Won-pyung Sohn’s writing style and the way her characters develop throughout the book. This book is definitely more focused on a sort of millennial ennui that many will find relatable, and I loved seeing the main character find confidence and self-worth through small acts of rebellion against societal norms.

Kim Jihye has an ordinary name and an ordinary life. In order to be distinguished among other classmates with the same name, a tag was added, and this stayed with her for life.
She struggles in the 30s life stage carrying her psychological scars and finding her way in a competitive society until one day she meets a coworker so different to her.

The writing of this 240-page novel is simple, and aside from the traumas and challenges that the protagonist faces, the novel also provides bits of cultural background, portraying aspects of education, history, and society in Korea.

It was short but took me days to finish it and I wish it could have been more engaging for me but despite that, I connected with the story because I was also born in 1988, and I like how there is always something extraordinary in the ordinary so I found the novel simple and entertaining.

Thank you, Harper Via and Netgalley, for the e-ARC

ear Author,

I can only imagine if we all started allowing ourselves small revenges on coworkers, companies, and society. Funny book.

Thank you,

J.D. McCoughtry

Thank you, NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for this e-ARC.

Thank you NetGalley and publisher for the eARC copy of this book!

This book tells the story of an adult finding life difficult as she's not content with how things have turn out for her. This resonates greatly with me, being near 30 years old.

The story talks about themes of loneliness, struggles with self worth, societal expectations, and the search for justice. The various characters mentioned in the book portray the many different takes on the Korean expectations regarding work and self worth. The Korean view on work as directly connected to how much a person is worth can be somewhat relatable to American expectations because of how productivity is valued in today's society. Because of this fact, I think this book is relevant for readers of ages nearing 30 years old or a bit pass that age.

I enjoyed reading about these characters and felt a lot like the main character in many senses. The situations and the resolutions inspired me to keep trying to look for whatever makes me happy with myself but they also made me realize that life is not about finding one's purpose.

This one wasn’t for me. Not sure if it was the book itself or the stiff translation. Have read a lot of other Korean translations and not experienced this often. The story felt disjointed at times.

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing this eARC.

Counterattacks at Thirty follows Jihye and Gyuok, coworkers-turned-revolutionaries who band together with a couple others to stage a mini revolution.

This was an interesting, soft-but-nuanced read that really digs into the concept of protest on a small, palatable, contemporary scale. It was short but interesting, with compelling characters who embark on relatable emotional journeys. I do think a lot of the social conventions at play here -- rightfully so -- are unique to Korean work culture, which made it a tad more difficult to relate to as someone who is not Korean. At the same time, this perspective made the book all the more interesting to me, seeing universal, relatable themes and observations drawn out of unrelatable situations. I'd argue the book asks more questions than it answers -- how do we find ourselves, or find a way forward, when life is just, well, life? -- but that makes it all the more poignant in the end.

I read Almond a couple years ago and thought it was fantastic, so when I heard another of Won-Pyung Sohn books had been translated, I was very excited to get my hands on it.
So, the basics: if you’ve read Almond, Counterattacks at Thirty is a very, very different book. But did I appreciate both equally? Absolutely. (Just for very different reasons)
Maybe it’s just that this author gets people and that comes through in her stories, but either way, both are lovely.
As someone who’s essentially the same age as the main character in this book, I think there were parts of this that resonated with me perhaps more so than they would’ve had I been 10 years younger.
The bulk of the book made me laugh, but there is also an underlying current of general anxiety and loneliness of a thirty-something who’s still adrift.
I found this to be a poignant read and have definitely been recommending it to everyone in my path.
Obviously, I had to buy a physical copy too.

This one is for the underdog.

But let me tell you this: I probably wouldn’t have given this book a second glance if I hadn’t noticed the author’s name on the cover. It’s not that the art isn’t appealing, but it isn’t something that spoke to me personally. I am, however, in love with Almond, the author’s previously translated work, so I was willing to give her latest a try.

Thank goodness for that because I was enamored with this story.

The narrative does feel directionless at times. I won’t try to convince you otherwise. But I think it suits the narrator herself. She is also, arguably, directionless, and as I got to know her, I really felt for her. Perhaps we learn self-compassion through novels, as so much of Jihye’s struggle resonated with me.

While I do not live in South Korea, I do live in a capitalist country, so the social commentary of Counterattacks at Thirty made sense to me. It’s interesting because as I read this, I often thought about Squid Game (which I am obsessed with), and when I was halfway through this novel, I found a quote stating that it was perfect for fans of that series!

But that comparison could be misleading. In the most technical sense, this is nothing like Squid Game. They are polar opposites, in terms of tone and violence. Thematically, however, they are extremely similar, and I love what both art forms address, and how differently they manage to address it.

Counterattacks at Thirty is also nothing like Almond. It is not steeped in darkness, and it isn’t likely to reduce you to tears. It’s a significantly lighter read, although it does juggle serious matters.

If you generally feel like you’re at the tail end of this rat race called life, and if you don’t really know if anyone even sees you, I think you’ll understand the charm of this novel. But its philosophical brilliance doesn’t end there. The author’s keenly observant prose illustrates how, in a dog eat dog world, we are all dogs, and even the ones that seem to consume the most are not necessarily immune to becoming prey.

It saddens me to see that Counterattacks at Thirty currently has such a low average rating right now, and I hope that will change as more readers are exposed to its playful yet contemplative tone. Sohn Won-Pyong didn’t simply tell us a story here. She called things out for what they are, shining a light upon how fruitlessly exhausting the fight actually is.

I am immensely grateful to Harper Via and NetGalley for my copy. All opinions are my own.

Thank you to Net Galley and HarperVia for the ARC. I really enjoyed reading Counterattacks at Thirty and following as Jihye, Gyuok, Muin and Mr Nam engage in small acts of rebellion through pranks. The friendship and connection between the four was really heart warming to read as we see them struggle through life but keep going on. Society and working culture are depressing here, but the book never gets dragged into tragedy, there is plenty of humor and softer moments that make this a touching and hopeful read. I also really enjoyed the main character Jihye's personality and her journey through the story.

A group of people who have been taken advantage of and mistreated look for ways to shake up the status quo. Who hasn’t wanted to call out a gross boss, embarrass a corrupt politician, or confront an old bully? The group tries to find small ways to assert themselves in a society that wants them quietly in their place. What do you do when everything feels hopeless? And what do you do if nothing changes despite your best efforts?

“𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦..”

Quite a surprise. There are few books that really tackle all the ennuis of contemporary society in such a blunt way. From the vantage point of 30, we look at what failure is in South Korea. With the race against birth rates, the rising cost of housing and the impossibility of finding a decent job, and to hell with a career, how can a person just be?

We are reaching impossibility, but it’s Won-Pyung’s frankness that creates a numb hum through the text. Anxiousness. Frustration. Annoyance. Micro aggressions add up to one final act, too quick to even stay in a life that goes on without us.

A timely publication, especially after the necessary impeachment of Yoon Suk Yeol. These days, how far can a protest go beyond a shot in the dark in a timeline of hurt and horrors? And does it matter as an individual? Ultimately, how do we matter to ourselves?

A quirky little book that captures the unique blend of hope and hopelessness that accompanies us as we age when our lives haven’t turned out the way we expected them to, and particularly when we try to sort out how much of the disappointment we feel is of our own making and how much is a system designed to keep us feeling like failures.

The protagonist and three men she meets in a class she takes through her job at an academy are each fed up with society and are too scared of change to do much of anything about it except grab onto their despair like a security blanket. They decide to do what little they can: quiet acts of protest against the system, or counterattacks, that are silly and largely ineffective in the grand scheme of things but are capable of effecting change on the individual level, giving them enough confidence to change their own mindsets.

The solution to this type of capitalism would be to divorce themselves from the belief that their work is integral to who they are. Easier said than done, but each of the four attempts this with varying degrees of success. Some blossom, some wither. As frustrating as that is from a fictional story, it’s so realistic: for the majority of us, the most we will ever do is wake up. Fewer of us will get out of bed, and even fewer of us are brave enough to actually push back. Perhaps this fact makes even the tiny counterattacks in this novel more bold than we’d give them credit for at first glance.

There are a few subplots — a shaky romance and the confrontation of a former school bully, the latter of which feels like a common theme in Korean media and felt a little stale. It serves more as a conduit for proving the protagonist’s character growth than anything else. It’s easy to grow frustrated with the protagonist, Jihye, as she misses opportunities for growth and understanding, but again, this is simply realistic. Even still, I was rooting for both her and her comrades.

There’s some endearing character growth that I found so relatable as an early 30-something, but I am now wondering how much character growth is possible within a system that punishes individuality and rewards assimilation. Is it growth, or is it acceptance? And does it matter? The themes and messages overall are obvious throughout, though they start stronger than they finish, and I can’t stop thinking about how maybe that’s one big (bleak) metaphor for aging itself.

Not sure how I feel about this one. As someone who is about to turn 30 and feels like they are going through the motions, I was excited to read this book. While I thought this story was well written and it was a quick read, it kind of left me feeling a little hopeless. I don't know. So much of the book just kept reinforcing this feeling of helplessness and disappointment. I did like the scenes between "the rebels," but there weren't really that many of them. I guess I was just hoping for a bigger revelation that I got. Not really the book's fault, I would say it was actually incredibly realistic. In fact, maybe a bit too realistic. While the characters do technically come out of these encounters changed, the changes are incredibly small and it is debatable whether or not the change is good. If you are going into this story expecting something fun and inspirational, you will be sorely disappointed. However, I do think this book works as a good representation about how hard it is to change and how small progress is still progress.

Jihye is an ordinary woman living an ordinary life. She works as an intern at Diamant Academy, stacking chairs and making copies, hoping to be hired on as a permanent employee. One day she is tasked with returning a professor's cell phones to him at a coffee shop where she witnesses a member of the public yelling at the professor about all the wrongs he has committed. Later, when she is part of a hiring panel for another intern, she sees the man who yelled at the professor again and he ultimately becomes her coworker. Gyuok wants to disrupt the status quo through pranks and acts of mischief, He recruits Jihye and two other students in their ukulele class to join in his shenanigans. With their strange quartet, Jihye learns more about herself, what she hopes for in life, and how to be brave and try for the things that she wants.

This was an interesting story and I think it deals with a lot of issues that people are experiencing today. The characters were frequently frustrated with their place in society and felt as though they were powerless to make meaningful changes, which I think is something that a lot of people can relate to. I think that the characters were really well developed and they did change over the course of the book in meaningful ways. My main issue is mostly to do with the overall flow of the book. The first few chapters felt like they were sort of disjointed, so that was what I expected from the entire book, but then later in the book the story flowed together a bit more. I would have enjoyed the book more if the whole thing flowed from the beginning. This book will appeal to people who are critical of or disenchanted with capitalism and looking for something with a meaningful message.

I really enjoyed this title. I love that it gives us an insight into the working culture of South Korea as well. Our main character takes us through the experience of a thirty-something dealing with office culture and politics as well as grappling with where she fits in society. We see her interact with new friends, new colleagues as well as clash head to head with people from her past. It definitely looks at the how isolating it can feel when everyone else around you seems to have it together or their expectations of where you should be in life don't line up with what you want. A very good read and great for book club discussions.

Thank you for the e-ARC HarperVia! I read Won-Pyung's last novel, Almond in 2024 and am still thinking about it today. It was in my top books read that year and so I was beyond excited for their latest, Counterattacks at Thirty.

This is a translated work about a main character who has entered her thirties and hasn't figured out her life yet. She lives in a basement apartment, has yet to secure fulltime employment and isn't currently in a relationship. Throughout the story she is introduced to a cast of 'non-ordinary people' trying to figure out life. They bond together to make an impact.

What I liked-This was a fast paced and short read about found family and not being afraid to go for what you want in life. Nobody has it all figured out. I enjoyed learning about the importance of a strong Korean name. I also liked the concept around 'a chair is just a chair''.

What I disliked -This was very different from Almond. It left me wanting more with regards to the main character's story and end result. I wanted a deeper dive into the issues at hand. The romantic subplot didn't feel like it fit to me, but without giving away spoilers, I did appreciate the lunch date situation as I could relate to needing an escape.