Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5)
Author: Lee Geum-yi (Translated by An Seon Jae)
Genre: Historical Fiction / Korean Literature / Coming-of-Age
Ideal For: Readers of Pachinko, The Island of Sea Women, or anyone who loves lyrical stories about women’s strength through history
Can’t I Go Instead is one of those rare books that quietly breaks your heart—and then keeps whispering to you long after you’ve turned the last page. Set against the harrowing backdrop of early 20th-century Korea and Japan, this deeply moving historical novel offers a tender yet unflinching portrait of friendship, first love, and the impossible choices girls are forced to make in the face of oppression.
Originally written in Korean by acclaimed author Lee Geum-yi and beautifully translated by An Seon Jae, this novel is both intimate and expansive—rich with detail, cultural nuance, and the kind of emotional resonance that lingers like a ghost. For those who love stories centered on women’s lives, resilience, and forgotten histories, this book is not just recommended—it’s essential.
Why I Picked It Up
The title alone certainly caught my attention. It hinted at sacrifice, longing, and a desperate, selfless kind of love. Then I learned it was set in colonial Korea and Japan, a period I rarely see in fiction but always want to understand more deeply. Add to that a story told through the eyes of a young Korean girl navigating womanhood, class, and imperialism? I knew it would be a powerful read.
And it delivered. Every chapter was like watching something fragile bloom under the weight of history.
Plot Summary (Spoiler-Free)
The novel follows Jang Soon-deok, a young girl born into poverty in 1910s Korea, at a time when the country is under Japanese colonial rule. At the age of 14, she is sent to become a gisaeng—a class of trained courtesans who, though often dismissed by society, were educated in the arts and served the upper classes.
What follows is a journey not just of survival, but of strength, transformation, and quiet rebellion. As Soon-deok navigates a world that is often cruel, exploitative, and deeply unequal, she also finds moments of tenderness. This is through a childhood friend, through unexpected allies, and through her own inner resolve to preserve her dignity in the face of dehumanizing systems.
The novel traces her life as she moves between Korea and Japan, caught in the tides of love, loss, and the brutal complexities of war. And at its core is one enduring question: How do you hold on to your humanity when the world tries to strip it away?
Why It Works So Well
1. A Masterclass in Emotional Storytelling
Lee Geum-yi’s writing is lyrical without being flowery—quiet, but powerful. She never overstates anything. Instead, she lets the silences, the cultural rituals, and the everyday details carry the emotional weight. Whether it’s the folding of hanbok skirts, the scent of ink on paper, or the slow realisation of betrayal, every moment lands with understated grace.
Through Soon-deok, we feel the immense tension of being a girl in a world that views women as disposable. But rather than framing her as a victim, the novel presents her as someone with depth, dreams, and impossible choices—and her resilience is what gives the story its soul.
2. Historical Fiction Done Right
The backdrop of Japanese-occupied Korea and the treatment of Korean women in imperial Japan is handled with nuance and care. The research is meticulous, but never heavy-handed. The historical context enriches the plot without ever overwhelming it.
This book doesn’t just educate—it immerses. You feel the weight of societal rules, colonial power structures, and the cultural pressures bearing down on every decision. And yet, it’s the characters—not the history—that stay with you.
3. A Love Story That Doesn’t Shy Away from Reality
There is a love story in this novel, but not the kind you’d find in typical historical romances. It’s tender, tragic, and full of longing—but also realistic about the limitations placed on women’s agency and the sacrifices that love often demands.
There’s also love of a different kind—female friendship that becomes a lifeline. The emotional bond between the girls in the gisaeng house is just as powerful as any romantic arc, and maybe even more important. It’s a rare, beautifully depicted kind of love that literature doesn’t explore nearly enough.
You’ll Love This Book If You Enjoy…
- Pachinko by Min Jin Lee – for the intergenerational Korean-Japanese historical lens
- The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See – for its portrayal of Korean women’s untold histories
- If I Had Your Face by Frances Cha – for its exploration of modern Korean womanhood
- Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden – if you want a more grounded, feminist counterpoint
- Historical fiction that centers women’s voices with sensitivity and emotional intelligence
Final Thoughts: A Quietly Devastating Must-Read
Can’t I Go Instead is a novel of aching beauty. It doesn’t scream for your attention—but it keeps it. With restrained prose and emotionally resonant storytelling, Lee Geum-yi crafts a tale of survival, sacrifice, and stubborn hope in a world that often devalues both girls and their dreams.
This is the kind of book that humbles you as a reader. It reminds you that behind every historical statistic is a living, breathing person who longed, laughed, and loved. And it challenges you to remember those voices.
It’s not just a story. It’s an elegy, a history lesson, and a tribute to the strength of women whose stories have too often been erased.
Looking for more powerful reads from Korea and beyond? Stay with BooksAndUs.com for thoughtful reviews, cross-cultural deep dives, and literary gems that deserve the spotlight.
