Between the Pages

by Cho Nam-Joo

• Feminist
• Translated
• Korean History
• Fiction

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect at first, especially as I’d never read a translated book before—let alone one focused on feminism within another culture. But I was immediately intrigued by the glimpse into life in Korea and curious to see where the story would lead.

It quickly became clear that women in this society are not treated or respected as equally as men. From families expressing disappointment at the birth of daughters to Kim Jiyoung’s brother receiving his own room, better education, and preferential treatment, the imbalance is evident from the start. Yet, Jiyoung herself doesn’t recognise this inequality—having grown up believing this is simply how the world works. From a young age, she learns that “mothers could only be mothers,” accepting this limited role without question.

What’s especially striking is that these patriarchal attitudes aren’t only reinforced by men, but also by women. Jiyoung’s mother, Oh Misook, is seen as an “unworthy wife” for giving birth to daughters—a cruel irony, given that a baby’s sex is biologically determined by the father. The social pressure becomes so intense that she feels compelled to terminate a third pregnancy upon learning it was another girl—an act tragically common at the time.

As the novel progresses, the narrative reflects the slow societal changes that began in the late 1980s with the rise of the Women’s Movement and the introduction of laws such as the Equal Employment Opportunity Act and Family Law Reform. By the 1990s and 2000s, women had greater access to education and employment opportunities, yet traditional attitudes and patriarchal values remained deeply ingrained.

One memorable moment involves a young girl named Yana, who confronts her teacher about the unfair lunch routine where boys eat first and girls receive the leftovers. Her brave decision to challenge this system symbolizes a new generation beginning to question authority where their elders would not.

A particularly powerful quote comes when Kim Jiyoung suffers from severe menstrual cramps and reflects, “In a world where doctors can cure cancer and do heart transplants, there isn’t a single pill to treat menstrual cramps.” This line resonated deeply with me—it highlights how even today, in countries like the UK, women’s health remains underfunded and under-researched.

My favourite aspect of this novel is Cho Nam-Joo’s use of real-life statistics woven seamlessly into the narrative. Data on issues such as women leaving the workforce after childbirth adds realism and authenticity, blurring the line between fiction and fact.

After marriage, Kim Jiyoung begins to experience the same societal pressures her mother once faced—constant questions about when she’ll have children, followed by workplace discrimination once she becomes pregnant. She’s gradually pushed out of her career and isolated at home, judged harshly for every decision she makes as a mother.

The novel ends abruptly but poignantly, with Kim Jiyoung recounting her story to a male psychologist. Although he appears sympathetic, it’s revealed that he, too, is part of the same patriarchal system—his own wife having given up her career to raise their child. It’s a haunting ending that underlines how systemic and internalised these issues remain.

Overall, Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 is a powerful and thought-provoking read. It resonates not only with women in Korea but with readers worldwide, as many of the challenges it explores are sadly universal. However, as a piece of fiction, the story can feel somewhat detached—more like a chronicle of experiences than a traditional narrative arc—and the abrupt ending may leave some readers wanting more.

Still, I found it a compelling and important novel that opened my eyes to the everyday realities faced by women in another part of the world. I’m now keen to explore more translated literature, especially other works set in or inspired by Korea’s culture and history.