Mostrando resultados por autor "Kang Han" en Todas las categorías

Durante su estancia en un país desconocido, Han Kang se ve abordada por una apremiante necesidad de escribir sobre el color blanco. Es su forma de dar sentido a una tragedia que la ha atormentado siempre: la prematura muerte de su hermana, a las pocas horas de nacer; alguien a quien no llegó a conocer y a quien parece haber reemplazado.

Gwangju, South Korea, 1980. Amid a violent student uprising, a young boy named Dong-ho is killed. As his friend searches for Dong-ho's corpse, we also meet an editor struggling against censorship, a prisoner and a factory worker, each suffering from traumatic memories, and Dong-ho's grief-stricken mother. Through their collective heartbreak and acts of hope comes a tale of a brutalized people in search of a voice.

In this compelling and beautifully-patterned novel, Han Kang tells the interwoven stories of a Greek instructor who is losing his sight and a woman who refuses to speak. Uniquely involving, and thoughtful, it explores the depths and limits of human connection.

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.

Before the nightmares began, Yeong-hye and her husband lived an ordinary, controlled life. But the dreams—invasive images of blood and brutality—torture her, driving Yeong-hye to purge her mind and renounce eating meat altogether. It’s a small act of independence, but it interrupts her marriage and sets into motion an increasingly grotesque chain of events at home. As her husband, her brother-in-law, and sister each fight to reassert their control, Yeong-hye obsessively defends the choice that’s become sacred to her.

Situada en Corea del Sur, La vegetariana es la historia de una metamorfosis radical y un acto de resistencia contra la violencia y la intolerancia humanas. Galardonada con el Premio Booker Internacional, esta bella y perturbadora novela catapultó internacionalmente a la que es una de las voces más interesantes y provocadoras de la literatura asiática contemporánea.

En Seúl, una mujer asiste a clases de griego antiguo. Su profesor le pide que lea en voz alta pero ella permanece en silencio; ha perdido la capacidad del lenguaje, así como a su madre y la custodia de un hijo de ocho años. Su única esperanza de recuperar el habla es mediante el aprendizaje de una lengua muerta. Con una belleza inusitada, las voces íntimas de estos dos protagonistas se intercalan y se cruzan en un momento de desesperación. ¿Será posible que encuentren en el otro el modo de salvarse, que la oscuridad dé paso a la luz y el silencio a la palabra?

Mayo de 1980. La ciudad de Gwangju se moviliza contra la dictadura militar de Chun Doo-hwan, que hace unos meses tomó el poder en Corea del Sur. La oposición civil, liderada por los estudiantes universitarios, se subleva a favor de la democracia, pero el ejército reprime cruelmente las protestas disparando indiscriminadamente a la multitud, sin hacer distinciones entre estudiantes y civiles. Tras la sanguinaria matanza, un joven busca el cadáver de un amigo, un alma intenta aferrarse a su cuerpo abandonado y a sus recuerdos, y un país brutalizado busca su voz.

Amid a violent student uprising in South Korea, a young boy named Dong-ho is shockingly killed. The story of this tragic episode unfolds in a sequence of interconnected chapters as the victims and the bereaved encounter suppression, denial, and the echoing agony of the massacre. From Dong-ho’s best friend; to an editor struggling against censorship; to a prisoner and a factory worker, each suffering from traumatic memories; and to Dong-ho's own grief-stricken mother; and through their collective heartbreak and acts of hope is the tale of a brutalized people in search of a voice.

While on a writer’s residency, a nameless narrator focuses on the color white to creatively channel her inner pain. Through lyrical, interconnected stories, she grapples with the tragedy that has haunted her family, attempting to make sense of her older sister’s death using the color white. From trying to imagine her mother’s first time producing breast milk to watching the snow fall and meditating on the impermanence of life, she weaves a poignant, heartfelt story of the omnipresence of grief and the ways we perceive the world around us.

Una gélida mañana de finales de diciembre, Gyeongha recibe un inesperado mensaje de su amiga Inseon: después de sufrir un accidente en su taller de carpintería en la isla de Jeju, ha sido trasladada de urgencia a un hospital de Seúl. Desde la cama, Inseon le ruega que tome el primer vuelo a la isla y se ocupe de su pequeña cotorra antes de que se le acaben el agua y la comida.

In a classroom in Seoul, a young woman watches her Greek language teacher at the blackboard. She tries to speak but has lost her voice. Her teacher finds himself drawn to the silent woman, for day by day he is losing his sight. Soon the two discover a deeper pain binds them together. For her, in the space of just a few months, she has lost both her mother and the custody battle for her nine-year-old son. For him, it's the pain of growing up between Korea and Germany, being torn between two cultures and languages, and the fear of losing his independence.

One morning in December, Kyungha is called to her friend Inseon’s hospital bedside. Airlifted to Seoul for an operation following a wood-chopping accident, Inseon is bedridden and begs Kyungha to take the first plane to her home on Jeju Island to feed her pet bird, who will quickly die unless it receives food. Unfortunately, as Kyungha arrives a snowstorm hits. Lost in a world of snow, she begins to wonder if she will arrive in time to save the bird – or even survive the terrible cold that envelops her with every step.

Yeong-hye and her husband are ordinary people. He is an office worker with moderate ambitions and mild manners; she is an uninspired but dutiful wife. The acceptable flatline of their marriage is interrupted when Yeong-hye, seeking a more 'plantlike' existence, decides to become a vegetarian, prompted by grotesque recurring nightmares. In South Korea, where vegetarianism is almost unheard of and societal mores are strictly obeyed, Yeong-hye's decision is a shocking act of subversion.

La novel·la que va consagrar Han Kang com una de les grans autores del segle: una lectura pertorbadora i transformadora. La vegetariana narra la història d'una dona, la Yeonghye, que per la simple decisió de no tornar a menjar carn converteix una vida normal en un malson pertorbador. Narrada a tres veus, explica el despreniment progressiu de la condició humana d'una dona que ha decidit deixar de ser allò que l'obliguen a ser.

From the author of The Vegetarian and Human Acts comes an audiobook like no other. The White Book is a meditation on colour, beginning with a list of white things. It is an audiobook about mourning, rebirth and the tenacity of the human spirit. It is a stunning investigation of the fragility, beauty and strangeness of life.

Yeong-Hye und ihr Ehemann sind ganz gewöhnliche Leute. Er geht beflissen seinem Bürojob nach und hegt keinerlei Ambitionen. Sie ist eine zwar leidenschaftslose, aber pflichtbewusste Hausfrau. Die angenehme Eintönigkeit ihrer Ehe wird jäh gefährdet, als Yeong-Hye beschließt, sich fortan ausschließlich vegetarisch zu ernähren und alle tierischen Produkte aus dem Haushalt entfernt. "Ich hatte einen Traum," so ihre einzige Erklärung.

Gwangju, Südkorea, 1980: Ein Junge sucht nach der Leiche seines Freundes, der bei einem gewaltsam niedergeschlagenen Studentenaufstand gestorben ist. Währenddessen schwebt eine Seele über ihrem toten Körper und berichtet, was sie sieht. Jahrzehnte später: Eine Angestellte erinnert sich, wie sie Teil der Protestbewegung wurde und im Gefängnis landete. Eine Mutter trauert noch immer um ihren Sohn. Und die Autorin selbst setzt alles daran, in all dem einen Sinn auszumachen.

Un matin de décembre, Gyeongha reçoit un message de son amie Inseon, tout juste transférée d’urgence à l’hôpital de Séoul. Gravement blessée à la main, cette dernière lui demande de se rendre chez elle, sur l’île de Jeju, pour nourrir son perroquet blanc qu’elle a laissé derrière elle. Le soir même, une violente tempête de neige s’abat sur l’île.

Während eines Aufenthalts in einer europäischen Stadt, die im weißen Winterschlaf liegt, überfällt die Erzählerin plötzlich die Erinnerung an ihre Schwester, die als Neugeborenes in den Armen der Mutter starb. Sie ringt mit dieser Tragödie, die das Leben ihrer Familie bestimmt hat, ein Ereignis, das in Bildern von Weiß wieder und wieder aufscheint: das Weiß der Muttermilch, der Windel, der reiskuchenweißen Haut des kleinen Mädchens. Nur eine Autorin wie Han Kang vermag es, aus einer so zutiefst persönlichen Erinnerung eine große literarische Erzählung zu erschaffen.