The tale focuses on three women and how they navigate changing circumstances while one aspect remains the same: Sexism. Protagonist Geumbok flees her bleak live in a rural area and enters relationships with men who help her survive and then rise in the social ranks. The business-savvy, matter-of-fact woman adapts to the expanding capitalist system by starting several enterprises, the most ambitious one being the cinema in the form of the title-giving whale. Geumbok tortures and neglects the second protagonist, her mute daughter, who gets a storyline of her own. Then, we have a one-eyed woman who directs an army of bees, born into another female line of family trauma. These three narrative strands are intertwined with minor stories about other characters (the most important one being a gangster with a scar), and it's fascinating how the author maintains control of this sprawling concept.

After working as a screenwriter, Cheon made his literary debut with “Frank and I,” a short story. His first full-length novel "Whale," published in 2004, won the 10th Munhak Dongne New Writer Award. Through mother and daughter, Cheon constructs a portrait of an oppressive, ruthless society in which workers are brutally suppressed and torture becomes almost routine; a place of growing social inequality in which the many will suffer but the few will profit through corruption and opportunism. Even Geumbok, who seems to encapsulate what’s needed to thrive, with her tenacity and skill in exploiting emerging trends, from early café culture to post-war construction booms, is vulnerable to failure simply because she’s a woman. Geumbok and Chunhui are also individuals caught between clashing cultures, in an era where the erosion of rural life and growing influence of American culture mingle uneasily with traditional beliefs and superstitions.

Whaleis a rollercoaster adventure through Korean history and culture, a magical and grotesque epic . . . The plot twists and turns and hurtles along in a way that makes you pleasantly dizzy; the imagery and language in the book are also so rich, with the innocence and darkness of a fairy-tale combined with a playful sense of irony. The translatorChi-Young Kimhas done an amazing job, the translation is so dynamic and full of life.”— The International Booker Prize 2023 judges

Right now, I am just nonchalant because it has been so long, almost 20 years, since I wrote the book, that I have nearly forgotten about it,” Cheon, 59, told The Korea Herald on Wednesday. Slimani said the list was a “celebration of the power of language and of authors who wanted to push formal inquiry as far as possible”.Occasionally, there comes a novel that shakes you out of your reality, places you in its reality, and makes you want to live there forever, no matter how trying the circumstances, how matter how brutal the lay of the land, and no matter how beastly some characters who inhabit that world. Whale was one such novel for me this year, and maybe for a long time to come. It’s very important. Translating literature is critical work and if translators hadn’t undertaken that labour, I would have been someone who’d never had the opportunity to read Hemingway or Conan Doyle. It’s terrible to even contemplate. WHALE starts with Chunhui leaving prison and returning to the scene of a crime she may or may not have committed. Spanning through generation, one also follows Geumbok (Chunhui's mom) - a conflicted protagonist whose life is far from mundane. The image of a very large woman was the genesis of this novel. I was drawn to the tragedy of her enormous corporeality and began plotting out the story. I recently watched Darren Aronofsky’s film featuring a 272-kilogram man, and I was surprised to learn that the film’s title was also The Whale; it too symbolizes massive physicality and loneliness. He would sip coffee and change the subject, saying something like, ‘But don’t you think the judges for the most recent literary award made such a conservative choice? I of course concede that the author is wonderful.’”

This same sensation animates Rosalind Harvey’s delicate but enthrallingly tense translation of Guadalupe Nettel’s fourth novel: an exploration of maternity, loss and refusal. From that day on, the terror of death ruled the girl. Her goal in life became fleeing death. Her mother's death was the main reason why she left her small mountain village, why she left the harbor city and roamed the country, and why she built an enormous theater that resembled a whale. She wasn't obsessed with the whale just because of its size. When sheIs there such a thing as the objective truth? How credible is a story that floats through the world going from mouth to mouth….Here too, we do not have answers. By its very nature, a story contains adjustments and embellishments depending on the perspective of the person telling it, depending on the listener's convenience, depending on the storyteller's skills. Reader, you will believe what you want to believe. That's all there is to it.

Set largely in the remote village of Pyeongdae, the dreamlike story of Whale is punctuated by satirical references to historical events that mark the seismic social shifts that transformed South Korea into a modern state in the 20th century. Alina and Laura are old friends whose relationship is based on eschewing procreation as the be all and end all. It’s a perspective that gets increasingly complicated through pregnancy, birth, loss, a growing intimacy with the troubled son of a neighbour, unexpected resilience, the “birthing” process of writing a thesis and gradual drifting apart with a mother. Another Man Booker International longlister down, and another surrounding a mother and her daughter (among other things). This also qualifies as #10 of my 2023 Challenge with Alan (Read a book by an Asian writer, excluding Japanese). The list is completed by Ninth Building by Zou Jingzhi, translated by Jeremy Tiang from Chinese. It is a collection of vignettes drawn from the author’s experience growing up during the Cultural Revolution. The book is a history of Korea: from it’s humble beginnings to a land of progress then one divided by political strife. This could be represented by the whale itself but the events which happen in the book also mirror ones which have happened throughout Korea’s history. Due to the grotesque characters and overtly sexual situations, the book is a satire. Think of it as a modern day Candide or Terry Southern’s Candy ,both of which also used sex to point out the failings of the philosophies, government and social circles of their time,

The novel succeeds in capturing the (profound) impacts of modernization, capitalism and westernization. Ultimately, WHALE centers around all kind of relationships: illicit, disloyal, abusive, dependent, father-daughter, romantic, mother-daughter. Infused with smooth translation, satirical feel and magical realism, I inhaled this piece and it will stay with me for a while, as a tsunami of sadness often sweeps over me. The truth of the matter is that I absolutely loved this book. I loved it while reading it and loved it after. BUT, as a reader who wants to read critically, I have to and want to examine the author’s intent even if that means confronting my own biases. Chi-Young is a skilled translator who’s had a long career, so I was very happy that she was translating my novel. I trusted her completely and didn’t feel the need to share any particular thoughts. I don’t personally know her work since I don’t speak English, but my agent and others have all told me that it’s excellent—I’m thrilled and grateful. A spry, cunning work of invigorated tale-telling. Cheon Myeong-kwan harnesses the ferociously erratic flow of shared narratives, embracing their natural disposition toward salacious detail at every turn.Whaleis a billowing, boundless novel. — Justin Walls, Bookshop.org