Human Acts by Han Kang 

   Han Kang’s way of story telling is not a conventional one. She explores different perspectives, but agreeably collective agony that only individuals in that particular situation can truly express; thus after reading it made me feel the forlorn, the torment that each had experienced.  

   With interconnected characters I found empathy; Searching for a friend; the love with a shadow of guilt over the death of their young brother; the human being trying to master her demons that made her detached of people, of men, and to the mother whose heart had shattered into pieces longing for her child, reliving the moments that they both shared until her death. You will feel compassionate with the characters, be it fiction or real people. 
   Absolutely, Human Acts’ setting, Gwangju cannot be compared to any other story of a nation or a city under a siege, or to that of classical frame of tyranny, of dictatorship. For every civilization, long before the tanks have been invented, there had been countless loss of human beings, and each and every human souls got stories to tell, wanting to be heard. 
   Her descriptions. Her intellectual way of conveying the pain is plausible and would even make one think: it could be worse in real life, what more to encounter if this is happening, right now around us. Unimaginable. 
   Han Kang’s Human Acts may ignite deep introspection, if the reader would read it with an open mind. Painfully, life goes on, even to those who are left behind by their loved ones. Humans survive, though without utter peace, somehow they manage to remain alive carrying haunted memories that they try so hard not to remember. 


DO NOT READ – if you find serious topic not your kind, because it might affect you, drain you in a way. If your are expecting an easy read, I discourage you. Obviously not for YA fans. 
READ – if Historical fiction is your cup of tea. If you are ready to be heartbroken by gruesome description of war depicting emotions, harrowing pinches in your heart. Go ahead. 

On Writing 

I have the highest respect for writers who have that strong substance in their craft. Changing the world’s view, altering perspectives, spreading inspirations, shaping minds, all in the art form called writing. 
I have been fascinated about them since I started to read, that I dream to be a writer too, someday. And of course, aspiring to be one , who wouldn’t want to be a Gabriel Garcia Marquez, whose magical realism continue to influence story tellers; creating mundane stories but express it in almost surreal tangle of words and meanings? Or Murakami, or Woolf, T.S. Elliot, or…. (insert names here) .

…and Stephen King, George R.R. Martin, J.K. Rowling and the rest of the fictional writers whose notable novels are adapted into moving pictures. Remarkable literary envoys! 

Well, ahhh blame it to the raindrops today in Dubai. Feeling them on my skin on an early Friday of February makes me succumb to my favorite day dream; that is to READ and to be read…