21st Century Literature discussion
12/21 The White Book
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The White Book -- Book Discussion
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I read the book in late November. I saw it is an autobiographical meditation using fragmented images of objects in the color white to serve as the backdrop for the narrator’s grief.
I loved the unusual format and her use of blank pages and copious amounts of white space between images. To me, this suggests the narrator offers the reader empty space to contemplate the image and/or to project meaning on the blank screen.
Mod
It's an odd time to read this book as the holidays for some are full of joy and for others can be very painful depending on their circumstances, personal relationships, pain points for the year. And grief is one of those universal experiences that takes on such personal and particular aspects.
One thing I found particularly interesting upon my re-read (which I just finished this morning) is how much of the book feels like a form of survivor's guilt over having lived when her mother's first female child did not, but at the end, you get a feel for Kang's loss as she contemplates the older sister she never had.
It is 3-4 years since I read this so my memory is a bit hazy but form wise I thought of it as a fragmentary narrative poem (didn’t the author call it that?) and I found it very moving.I was lucky enough at the time to hear the author reading from the book in Korean followed by Deborah Smith reading the English equivalent.
Marc wrote: "One thing I found particularly interesting upon my re-read (which I just finished this morning) is how much of the book feels like a form of survivor's guilt over having lived when her mother's first female child did not, but at the end, you get a feel for Kang's loss as she contemplates the older sister she never had."I agree. The narrator is haunted by her guilt at surviving when her sister did not. Her pain is evident, as is her longing to transcend that pain through language and imagery. I think she captures the poignancy of dealing with loss with great eloquence.
As you said, it may be an odd time to read a book like this during the holidays. On the other hand, holidays are also a time for looking back, for remembering things past and people who are no longer with us. So in that sense, a book that deals with grief over the loss of a loved one may be very appropriate for this time of year.
Mod
Although I didn't read any of the backlash/criticism at the time with respect to Deborah Smith's translation of The Vegetarian, it would seem I could find almost no criticism or praise for her work with respect to this book. It seems to have gotten somewhat less (English language) press than Kang's previous two books.
A "fragmentary narrative poem" sounds almost like a "pre-owned vehicle." ;D
We have given this too sbort of a discussion. I will reread it today or tomorrow so I can post fresh thougbts. I am interested in other opinions.
I just read The Vegetarian and The White Book. Both are so beautifully written. Both have a theme of sisters and loss. The White Book is especially dark, sad, lonely. So moving.
Mod
“When clouds swim in front of the moon and obscure its light completely, those same clouds instantly shine white and cold. When black clouds are mixed in with the white, a delicate chiaroscuro is formed. Behind that pattern of dappling dark, the wan moon is concealed, wreathed in ashen or lilac or pale blue light, full or halved or shape more slender still, waning to a single sliver.”
For me, it invoked a very fragile, delicate kind of sadness; whereas, compared to this passage from Pedro Páramo, we get a more pathetic sort of sadness:
“It was a long time till dawn. The sky was filled with fat stars, swollen from the long night. The moon had risen briefly and then slipped out of sight. It was one of those sad moons that no one looks at or pays attention to. It had hung there a while, misshapen, not shedding any light, and then gone to hide behind the hills.”
I just happened to be reading both books around the same time. Both deal with death and loss, but are very different books.
Marc wrote: "I sometimes find it helpful to compare different books and writing styles. As I was reading this I was struck by this passage about the moon: “When clouds swim in front of the moon and obscure i..."
You happened to quote my favorite image from the book, one that can bring me back to memories of when and where I was watching clouds swim past a full moon. I agree the the author is evoking feeling, though I feel it spiritual as much as emotional. The author uses a technique almost akin to synthesia though I can't remember if there are specific examples of the device. She uses imagery that suggests another sensory impression. So white can be soft, silent, cold, and wet while the defining image is that of white. I think this gives the piece that poetic, meditative, spiritual sense,
Thanks for bringing this book to my attention, Marc. Like others, I sense the narrator's deep sadness at the loss of her sister and her guilt for being born and essentially taking her place. I just finished reading it and thoughts are still roaming in my head. But one thing that also stuck out to me was the duality of 'white'. White is clean, fresh, beautiful. Yet it is also cold, easily tarnished, and impermanent. I am thinking here of the white door that the author has to repaint because of the rust that has emerged, or the snow that, though beautiful at first, grows gray and dirty until it is covered again with snow, or the wings of the butterfly:
It was on the outskirts of this city that she saw the butterfly. A single white butterfly, wings folded on a reed bed, one November morning. No butterflies had been seen since summer; where could this one have been hiding? The air temperature had plummeted in the previous week, and it was perhaps on account of its wings frequently freezing that the white color had leached from them, leaving certain parts close to transparent. So clear, they shimmer with the black earth’s reflection. Only a little time is needed now and the whiteness will leave those wings completely. They will become something other, no longer wings, and the butterfly will be something that is no longer butterfly.I also found this passage deeply touching, also recognizing that impermanence of 'white':
Now I will give you white things,Let me also say, as illustrated in these quotes, that the prose is very lyrical and beautiful throughout for which the credit must go to the author but it seems to the translator as well.
What is white, though may yet be sullied;
Only white things will I give.
No longer will I question
Whether I should give this life to you.
Mod
The butterfly was my second favorite image, Joe (so much so that I created an alternative book cover design using a white butterfly). The examples you cited, especially the door were very evocative. White as a kind of double-edged sword: fragile in its pureness, possibly blinding in its extreme. I can only imagine what this must read/sound like in the native Korean.
I'm more apt to read poetry and lyrical prose aloud from time to time. Did anyone else read part(s) of this book out loud?
21st Century Literature
Books mentioned in this topic
Pedro Páramo (other topics)The Vegetarian (other topics)
- What do you associate with the color white?
- Which particular passages stood out to you more than others and why?
- In what ways did Kang's writing influence your thoughts about grief?
- Since it doesn't easily fit into a category/genre, how would you characterize this book to someone who hadn't read it?