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Read the first chapter of Kwon Yeo-Suns slim novelLemonand you could easily mistake it for a thriller.
That consumption is its own violence.
The murder captivates the public for a brief, frenzied moment, then fades into the background, unresolved.
When the novel begins, its already far in the rear view.
Da-on soon reveals that she knows who the murderer is, though she doesnt name names.
You might assume that by the end of the book you will know the truth as well.
(The story was also adapted into a play.)
The women ofLemonare desperate for answers, and so, too, are we as readers.
Kwon brilliantly resists clarity at every step.
She imagines, she remembers; each time she revisits the scenes, they shift.
while their teachers were either unable or unmoved to divert their attention.
As the investigation peters out, Sanghui describes a collective guilt spreading throughout the class.
Their inability to solve the murder, their enjoyment in their attempts?
The fact of their existence, their ability to move on?
We told ourselves: Some of us had to go, thats all.
Ah, this is killing us.
What kind of life is this?
And just like that, the incident ended for us.
For Sanghui, the quiet admirer, Hae-ons beauty is devastating, otherworldly, even glacial.
It renders Hae-on unreachable.
Either way she is portrayed as malleable, unfeeling.
Each character ascribes intent to Hae-ons appearance, justifying whatever reaction it inspires.
Her beauty becomes inseparable from violence, but the violence goes both ways.
The chapters float in spare streams of consciousness.
Details are minimal, lending the few remembered scenes the fuzziness of a dream.
The narrators speak from the future, but its not clear where theyve arrived.
This question is amplified in Taerims chapters, which read as a kind of ouroboric monologue.
Theoretically shes looking for help, but she cant stop interrupting herself long enough to ask for it.
Hongs translation is spare, lyrical.
Theres a sense of writing around intentional gaps.
What arent they telling us?
Its not clear what to make of the title, the recurring motif of lemons and the color yellow.
But maybe Im getting carried away.
Were not far from the charting of clues and linking of theories.
Your enjoyment of it will depend on how you feel about ambiguity.
Just as I was starting to really get a sense of who they were, they were gone.
