We Do Not Part

WINNER OF THE NOBEL PRIZE
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
FINALIST FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK CRITICS CIRCLE AWARD IN FICTION
FINALIST FOR THE ANDREW CARNEGIE MEDAL FOR EXCELLENCE IN FICTION
LONGLISTED FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD AND THE NBCC BARRIOS BOOK IN TRANSLATION PRIZE
A NEW YORK TIMES NOTABLE BOOK OF THE YEAR
ONE OF THE ATLANTIC'S 10 BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR
ONE OF THE OBSERVER'S 25 BEST BOOKS OF THE CENTURY (SO FAR)

A BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR: THE NEW YORKER, TIME, THE ECONOMIST, THE GUARDIAN, SLATE, VULTURE, ELLE, KIRKUS REVIEWS, BOOK RIOT, THE GLOBE AND MAIL, PEN AMERICA, CHICAGO PUBLIC LIBRARY, BBC - ONE OF BOOKPAGE'S TEN BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR

Han Kang's most revelatory book since The Vegetarian, We Do Not Part tells the story of a friendship between two women while powerfully reckoning with a hidden chapter in Korean history--"[A] masterpiece" (The Boston Globe)

"A haunting exploration of friendship amid historical trauma."--Time

"A novel that is both disquieting and entrancing."--The Economist

One winter morning, Kyungha receives an urgent message from her friend Inseon to visit her at a hospital in Seoul. Inseon has injured herself in an accident, and she begs Kyungha to return to Jeju Island, where she lives, to save her beloved pet--a white bird called Ama. A snowstorm hits the island when Kyungha arrives. She must reach Inseon's house at all costs, but the icy wind and squalls slow her down as night begins to fall. She wonders if she will arrive in time to save the animal--or even survive the terrible cold that envelops her with every step. Lost in a world of snow, she doesn't yet suspect the vertiginous plunge into the darkness that awaits her at her friend's house.

Blurring the boundaries between dream and reality,  We Do Not Part powerfully illuminates a forgotten chapter in Korean history, buried for decades--bringing to light the lost voices of the past to save them from oblivion. Both a hymn to an enduring friendship and an argument for remembering, it is the story of profound love in the face of unspeakable violence--and a celebration of life, however fragile it might be.