Kang Young-sook (Novelist):
In the 21st century, both nations and individuals put on the fine guise of pacifists, and this novel tears off the disguise and keeps asking questions. The protagonists Yu-ri, Jin-a, and Su-jin, along with countless women in the Korean context trapped in parentheses, cry out: “Rather than being raped, I’d rather become the perpetrator.” “I want to rape him.” When this voice bursts out of the text, I felt my inner world collapse. What answer will pacifists give to these women who long to become “the other”? This is a work that will inevitably provoke debate.

Kim Byung-ah (Novelist):
There were moments when I forced a smile so as not to cry, and became hysterical so as not to be trampled. Though I suffered harm simply for existing, I kept denying reality and struggling. Back then, I was branded with a stigma used across the ages—“madwoman.” That label easily overshadowed my thoughts, my will, and everything I did.
I will not remember the past entirely as anger. But the memories of battles I should have fought and failed to fight with all my strength end up making me disgusted with myself. I hope the women who come after, and all those who transcend biological identity and share wounds and experience, will not have to go through this again. This is my expectation for the award-winning work The Other.

Seo Young-in (Literary Critic):
The author delves into private experience and persistently traces various forms of violence rooted in social structures—dating violence, online doxxing and harassment, campus sexual assault, and more. This persistent gaze ultimately lands on “self-understanding.” The novel dissects the internal structures of both sexual assault perpetrators and victims, objectively presenting the psychology of victims who are wounded, diminished, and distorted within this structure, moving toward the path of self-understanding. The process of struggling between self-loathing, victim mentality, and self-defence, desperately trying to read oneself, is both heartbreaking and moving. In the traumatic violence constructed and sustained within relationships, we painfully confirm that individual dignity cannot be established alone.

Yoon Sung-hee (Novelist):
Here is a group of women doing everything they can to become “the other.” To become someone whom no one can casually offend or belittle; someone who is not hurt and not afraid; and most importantly, someone who “will never be raped.” What a sorrowful wish. We know all too well that the world is full of violence, and that institutions cannot protect the weak. Unless society changes, wanting to become another person is an impossible dream from the start. The women in this novel are not ignorant of this. But they do not wish to have been born in another world or with another gender. Such a wish is too easy—mere fantasy. To speak of wanting to become “the other” means refusing to give up the self of this moment. Perhaps this is the most strenuous resistance they can make.

Jung Yeo-ul (Writer, author of The Demian Project, host of KBS‘s Jung Yeo-ul’s Library):
This novel is not a remote-controlled weapon aimed from a distance. It is like a primitive stone axe, throwing a sharp, direct pitch at our numbed hearts; not a drone, but more like dynamite—a short blade over a bow and arrow. In an era where misogyny grows increasingly severe, it is the frontline weapon of feminism constantly seeking self-transformation. I love Kang Hwa-gil‘s plain, unadorned style—no deliberate embellishment or detours, possessing the courage and composure to dare to say, “I really hate this.”

Jung Hong-soo (Literary Critic):
The atmosphere of the novel is tense and dangerous, with thorns scattered throughout every line, full of unease and rebellion. Putting it down and not reading would be the easiest choice, but the reader quickly understands that they cannot escape. The one who finishes the story is none other than “you.” Yes—the moment you close the final page, the story truly begins. Accompanied by the unsettling address “you.” This summons holds tremendous power; it is the result of finely restrained, rational writing beyond surging anger.

Joo Won-kyu (Hangyoreh Literary Award winner, screenwriter of the TV dramas Gangnam Shadows and Argo, novelist):
From dating violence to a re-examination of new feminism, the plot advances layer by layer. If fiction has a responsibility to speak of the deep-rooted gender discrimination and violence in contemporary society, then The Other will surely be regarded as a fierce, controversial milestone work.

Han Changhun (Novelist):
The reading time was short, but the characters’ pain and cries remain in my heart for a long time. I realized that I cannot easily say, “I understand you.”

Hwang Hyun-san (Literary Critic, Emeritus Professor of French Literature at Korea University):
An author writing about heavy themes should, conversely, lay down brute force in their prose. Laying down force represents a readiness for long-term confrontation, chiselling holes in time. The full-length novel The Other proves exactly this.

★ Rights sold to: Mainland China, Japan, Taiwan (China), Italy, UK.

★ Winner of the 22nd Hangyoreh Literary Award, now in a fully revised edition: The Other stood out in a fierce competition of 263 to 1. The judges highly affirmed it: it directly confronts dating violence, which has become a serious social issue, and vividly presents the voices of a new generation of feminists; the entire book consistently focuses on characters and events, with a firm theme, never wavering, striking at the core.

★ Called a new feminist novel worth attention after Kim Ji-young, Born 1982: It focuses on the multiple forms of violence inflicted on Korean women—dating violence, misogynistic crimes, sexual assault, rape, and more. Most of the female characters in the book, to varying degrees, carry trauma related to sexual violence. When asked whether these portrayals were meant to highlight the theme, the author answered unequivocally: This is not literary fiction—it is the reality we deliberately look away from, visible all around us.

★ Jointly recommended by nine heavyweight writers and critics of the Korean literary world: Novelists Kang Young-sook and Kim Byung-ah, literary critics Seo Young-in, Jung Hong-soo, and Hwang Hyun-san, writer Jung Yeo-ul, Hangyoreh Literary Award winner Joo Won-kyu, novelist Han Changhun, and others—nine renowned figures unanimously praise it.

Kang Hwa-gil has long, sharply, and persistently traced the various forms of violence inflicted on Korean women—dating violence, misogynistic crimes, sexual violence, rape, and more. This book is her first full-length novel and the winner of the 22nd Hangyoreh Literary Award. The story does not stop at a simple narrative of violence. In a contemporary social system where digital sex crimes such as the Nth Room case run rampant, as long as there are women struggling to survive, The Other will always be a “new weapon” in their hands.

Most of the female characters in the book, to varying degrees, carry trauma related to sexual violence. When asked whether these portrayals were meant to highlight the theme, the author answered unequivocally: This is not literary fiction—it is the reality we deliberately look away from, visible all around us. Through the character Yu-ri, the novel evokes the injustice, fear, and anxiety that women must endure, as well as the memories of women avoiding one another and leaving wounds on each other.

“Just like that day. My boyfriend grabbed me by the neck.”

Kim Jin-a, after being subjected to domestic violence for the fifth time by a man who was both her superior and her boyfriend, chose to call the police. The perpetrator was ultimately fined only 3 million won. The ruling was hard to accept, and the fact that the abuser was also her boss never changed. She posted the incident online, and at first netizens took her side. But a colleague, Kim Mi-young, revealed that Jin-a had never paid for dates and had accepted luxury gifts—and public opinion instantly reversed.

The internet flooded with malicious comments: Kim Jin-a is a liar, greedy as a vacuum cleaner. @qw1234. Amid the overwhelming hate, she saw one comment that seemed to know her past, and fell into the abyss of memories from twelve years ago. “Am I really worthless? Why does everyone know, except me?” She thought of her deceased friend Yu-ri, who had been branded with the infamous name “vacuum cleaner.”

The novel calmly narrates the stories of women who suffer dating violence, are trapped in a whirlpool of rumours, file sexual harassment lawsuits, and seek treatment for STDs; it writes the realistic picture of a generation that longs to transform into “another person,” crying out: “Rather than being raped, I’d rather become the perpetrator.”

Kang Hwa-gil

Made her literary debut in 2012 through the Kyunghyang Shinmun New Year Literary Contest. Her works include the short story collections A Decent Person, White Horse, Anjin: Three Springs; the novels The Other, The Ghost of the Grand Buddha Hotel, The Light of Healing; and the novellas Gentle Inheritance, Pull-Up, and others.

Awards: Hangyoreh Literary Award, Ku Sang Literary Award Young Writer Prize, 2017 Young Writer Award, 2020 Young Writer Award Grand Prize, Baek Shin-ae Literary Award, Yoo Hoon Literary Award, 2025 Kim Seung-ok Literary Award Excellence Prize.