We Do Not Part

by Han Kang

I don’t know. Kang confounds and comforts with language that landed in my mind and hit me in the gut. We Do Not Part drifts through its pages like a lucid dream teetering on the edge of a nightmare, where reality warps and memory dissolves in shimmering prose. The blurred boundaries were both thematic and structural and a lot of the read was like walking through a disorienting fog. Confusing? Often. But there’s a strange peace in this swamp, and the words quietly know where it hurts. I don’t know whether to be bewildered or impressed.