Ratings4
Average rating3.1
Two young women of vastly different means each struggle to find her own way during the darkest hours of South Korea’s “economic miracle” in a striking debut novel for readers of Anthony Marra and Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie. Seoul, 1978. At South Korea’s top university, the nation’s best and brightest compete to join the professional elite of an authoritarian regime. Success could lead to a life of rarefied privilege and wealth; failure means being left irrevocably behind. For childhood friends Jisun and Namin, the stakes couldn’t be more different. Jisun, the daughter of a powerful business mogul, grew up on a mountainside estate with lush gardens and a dedicated chauffeur. Namin’s parents run a tented food cart from dawn to curfew; her sister works in a shoe factory. Now Jisun wants as little to do with her father’s world as possible, abandoning her schoolwork in favor of the underground activist movement, while Namin studies tirelessly in the service of one goal: to launch herself and her family out of poverty. But everything changes when Jisun and Namin meet an ambitious, charming student named Sunam, whose need to please his family has led him to a prestigious club: the Circle. Under the influence of his mentor, Juno, a manipulative social climber, Sunam becomes entangled with both women, as they all make choices that will change their lives forever. In this sweeping yet intimate debut, Yoojin Grace Wuertz details four intertwining lives that are rife with turmoil and desire, private anxieties and public betrayals, dashed hopes and broken dreams—while a nation moves toward prosperity at any cost. Praise for Everything Belongs to Us “The intertwined lives of South Korean university students provide intimacy to a rich and descriptive portrait of the country during the period of authoritarian industrialization in the late 1970s. Wuertz’s debut novel is a Gatsby-esque takedown, full of memorable characters.”—The New York Times Book Review (Editors’ Choice) “Wuertz’s masterful novel traces the paths of two friends who come from very different backgrounds, but whose trajectories have taken them to the same point in time. This is a story of love and passion, betrayal and ambition, and it is an always fascinating look at a country whose many contradictions contribute to its often enigmatic allure.”—Nylon
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2.5 stars = it was just okay. I had high hopes for this book but everything from the plot to the characters felt flimsy to me.
On the surface it's a typical university story. Namin comes from a poor family that have scraped and sacrificed so that she can have a chance at success. Namin is singularly focused on overachieving on the expectations set upon her. Jisun comes from unimaginable wealth and privilege. Naturally she hates everything it represents, protests for workers, and adopts an earnest activist stance. Sunam is the dumb-ass boy caught in the middle, still a little slack jawed at the opportunities he's been afforded and determined not to blow it. You know he's going to blow it.
Plainly told with little in the way of flourishes what struck me was what is at stake. Seoul National is a top 3 university pick. Only 2% of the student population make it after years of rigorous study. 10 hour school days through high school and countless hours at private institutions well into the evening. Weekends are non-existent for anything other than study, private tutoring and library visits. Students give over their entire lives for the sake of a single entrance exam that determines their university placement. They carry the expectations of their entire family. The sense of discovery, pushing the boundaries of self, rebelling against authority, reinvention and aspirations aren't things explored in high school like they are here. No one cares what you hope for - your life is given over to be the most efficient test taking machine possible.
In university, for the first time in their life the student is able to define who they are as a person. But the stakes are so much higher now. It's different than not being invited to the cool kids party or finding a date to the prom.
Wuertz isn't examining any of that in the story, it's just sitting at the back of my head and raising the stakes for me. I'm bringing my own context to the story that makes it all the more raw and devastating. Read from a Western context it may not carry the same weight.