I Have the Right to Destroy Myself

In searching out and reading more Korean works in translation I'm beginning to settle into the strange narrative obsessions that I see colouring so much of the work. Themes of food, sex, death and art, often mashed into a jarring tangle, keep recurring.

I Have the Right to Destroy Myself is no different but moves with a dreamlike eeriness, broken with the occasional jarring episode. I didn't feel the individual characters got truly fleshed out and are defined by specific actions instead. A brief distraction.

The writing of this was gorgeous but I just don't know if this really did anything for me. Despite the fact that fiction with this sort of tone usually appeals to me, I didn't connect with almost any of this. I liked a lot of the ideas but I think something about perhaps the format or the characters left me wanting more. I feel like maybe I should reread this because thinking back on it, this was something I should've loved.