In his review of Kang Sok-kyong’s The Valley Nearby (Found over at London Korea Links) Philip Gowman says:

The synopsis on the back of the book suggests a more action-packed plot than is the case

and quotes the synopsis:

Living in the country, Yun-hee is engaged in a solitary struggle. Her two worlds, that of a rural housewife and that of an advocate for equality, are at odds with each other. As her artistic, alcoholic husband increasingly cuts himself off from the world, Yun-hee must find a balance between what is and what could be.

I dunno, that first sentence kind of started the ennui settling in for me.

Gowman seems to be gingerlly dancing around the fact that not so very much happens in the book. The following passage really seems to outline the small-stakes prosaic nature of the book.

In the countryside, though, concerns centre more around how many of Hee-jo’s delicate punchong ware pots will survive the next firing of the kiln. Can the increased costs of firing the kiln be passed on to the purchasers of Hee-jo’s beautiful objects? Should he cash in an make a high-class range of tableware, or should he stay true to his life as an artist? Meanwhile, his well-educated, articulate wife tries to live close to the land, does her best for her family and tries to hold relationships together. A slight feeling of suspicion towards these former city-dwellers lingers among the local inhabitants.

Heavens forfend that the “slight feeling of supsicion” should blow up into an unquenchable fire-storm of … of… of.. “more than just a slight feeling of suspicion!” After all, feelings (as well as ceramics) might get hurt.

This might just be a pass for me.