51 books like Untold Night and Day

It came as no surprise to me, having spent so much time in the country, that Korea has long been and still is a sexist society, and this book illustrates that sexism brutally. When I lived there, my good friend, a woman, was a professor of biochemistry, and she struggled in her career the way men didn’t have to. Also, while people thought nothing of my going out to a pub with my male friends, it was somewhat scandalous when I did the same with this woman. In this novel, set in more recent times, a young woman has similar troubles trying to find her way. For many readers, it has served as a wake-up call for Korean society.

Kang’s sentences are short and tidy and clearly well-translated into English from Korean, and I was immediately drawn into the novel through the almost staccato rhythms of the prose. A small warning: this story comes with ghosts.

The plot is a fictionalization of a horrific event in Korean history in which soldiers opened fire on thousands of students protesting the 1980 military coup, killing somewhere between 600 and 2,300 civilians. The story was actively suppressed by the Korean government—hence the uncertainty over numbers.

Using this as a backdrop, Kang personalizes the violence and political upheaval of Korea in the 1980s, giving us memorable characters and the anguished and marginalized voices of the dead. It’s a novel I can’t quite shake, even years after first reading it.

This novel is a murder mystery, of sorts, that also has a lot to say about socio-economic divides in contemporary Korea. This was particularly interesting to me because when I lived there in the 1970s, everyone was poor. No one owned a motorbike, much less a car, and they were all barely scraping by. Now, though, great wealth and privilege have emerged alongside persistent poverty, and that class divide looks too familiar to Americans. The rich are privileged and have access to things the poor do not, including justice.

This one is set in North Korea and is by a sanctioned North Korean writer. As a result, there is no criticism directed at the North’s restrictive society and on the surface it isn’t at all political. Instead, it shows the mundane existence of a judge and his wife, ordinary people who work hard to contribute to the development of the nation. It seems to be about traditional values, and the rising prevalence of divorce is seen as a problem. Those of us who follow Korea rarely get this kind of insight into what life in the North is really like, and while these characters may be relatively privileged, their existence is tellingly monochromatic.

In 2021, my son spent a semester abroad in Seoul. While he was there, I picked up this book to get a better feel for his experiences in South Korea. At the start of Heart and Seoul, Hara, a 25-year-old Korean-American woman, has just lost her adoptive father. His death prompts her to travel to Seoul to learn more about her birth parents, whom she’s never met. Though the story includes a swoony love interest, what I enjoyed the most about Hara’s journey was the way she adapts to life in South Korea. The setting is so richly described that I got an amazing sense of Seoul as a vibrant city, filled with beautiful monuments, delicious street food, and quirky cafes. While the book is marketed as a romance, the love story isn’t fully resolved until the sequel, Seoulmates, which is equally enjoyable.   

Jenny Heijun Wills was born in South Korea and adopted by a white Canadian family. She not only had to navigate being Asian in a white world, but she also struggled to find her place within a family that sought to give her a safe home. In her twenties, she returned to Korea to meet her birth family. Told in diary form, Wills navigates her journey to find home while fighting language and cultural barriers. It is a raw and emotional story. It makes me think of my own struggles growing up in Detroit. The faces I saw at home were like my own but that also had its own set of problems.

This was one of my favorite books of 2021. First published in South Korea (where it was a bestseller), I Am the Subway takes readers on a subway ride through Seoul, narrated by the subway itself. “I rattle and clatter over the tracks. Same time, same route every day. Carrying people from one place to another….” We see the passengers get on and off the subway. We hear the subway sounds–ba-dum, ba-dum– and we catch an intimate glimpse into the lives of the people who step on board. I Am a Subway is an unexpectedly beautiful meditation on the many people we cross paths with each day as we make our way through the city. 

This book is a detailed account of the fighting at Pork Chop Hill, aka Hill 255. It was aptly named because on the topographical map it resembled a pork chop. They call this the forgotten war. It is a gritty, blow-by-blow, extremely detailed account of the battle in April 1953. This book describes the incredible feat of bravery and heroism by the men of the 7th Infantry Division. Pork Chop Hill was not the only place of the combat as Old Baldy, Hill 266, was a short distance away.

In just a matter of a few years the world has been overtaken by Kpop sensations. Their pretty, quirky, and incredible artistic styles have made them garner massive fans all over the world. Behind the scenes of the boy band culture is where My Summer in Seoul shines to show us what it’s like for someone who is new to the country and its culture. It is difficult, funny, sad and the romance is a breath of fresh air.

My recommendation shares a theme with my book about young Kpop/ boy band romance. However, as someone who relates personally to moving to a new country at a young age, I’m fascinated by how people with different backgrounds adjust to new environments. There are challenges with food, weather, and sometimes language, which can be daunting. The worst part is not understanding what is being said to you or about you. This… show more.

Free Rein is the autobiography of two-time Australian Olympic champion, Gill Rolton, who famously remounted at the Atlanta Olympics with a broken collarbone to finish the team event. Gillian was a late starter to eventing at the age of twenty-one but went on to compete for thirty years. This autobiography reveals the injuries to herself and her horses which meant missing the LA and Seoul Olympics, the success she achieved with her wonderful horse, Peppermint Grove and her inclusion in the Australia Sporting Hall of Fame.