Author: Sohn Won-pyung
Genre: Contemporary Fiction / Korean Literature / Coming-of-Age
Ideal for: Readers who love quiet, character-driven novels that explore empathy, identity, and healing. Perfect for fans of Kawaguchi, Cho Nam-joo, and anyone curious about Korean healing fiction.
Why I Picked Up Almond
Some books shout with grand gestures; others whisper their truths so softly that you don’t even realise how deeply they’ve seeped into you until long after you’ve turned the last page. Almond by Sohn Won-pyung is very much the latter. It is a deceptively simple novel that unfolds with quiet grace, yet it delivers one of the most profound meditations on empathy, identity, and human connection I’ve read in years.
Translated from Korean by Sandy Joosun Lee, Almond has quickly become one of the standout works of contemporary Korean literature available in English. At just under 300 pages, it is short and accessible, but its impact is unforgettable. This is not just a coming-of-age novel—it is an invitation to consider what it means to feel, to hurt, to heal, and to love.
Plot Summary (Spoiler-Free)
The story follows Yunjae, a boy born with a brain condition called alexithymia, which prevents him from feeling strong emotions like fear or anger. His mother and grandmother do everything they can to prepare him for the challenges of navigating a world where he is, in many ways, defenseless. They teach him to memorise responses, to recognise social cues, and to blend in as best as possible.
But tragedy strikes when Yunjae’s life is turned upside down by a violent incident that leaves him alone and unmoored. Into his life comes Gon, a troubled and angry boy whose life has been scarred by abuse and neglect. On the surface, the two couldn’t be more different: Yunjae is emotionally detached, Gon is consumed by feelings he can’t control. Yet their unlikely friendship becomes the heart of the novel, illustrating how two broken boys might help each other find wholeness.
The Characters: Complex, Vulnerable, and Utterly Human
What makes Almond extraordinary is how Sohn Won-pyung crafts her characters with such tenderness. Yunjae, though unable to express emotions in the way others do, is never portrayed as less human or less capable of love. His narration is direct and unembellished, but it is precisely that restraint that makes the moments of connection so moving.
Then there is Gon, arguably one of the most compelling characters in the novel. He is volatile, angry, and often cruel, yet beneath the surface lies deep pain and longing. Watching his relationship with Yunjae unfold is like witnessing two puzzle pieces slowly clicking into place, each filling the voids in the other.
Even the supporting characters—Yunjae’s mother, grandmother, and the small circle of friends he makes—play vital roles in showing the different ways people try, and often fail, to love and protect one another. No character feels wasted or flat; each adds texture to this quiet story of survival and growth.
Themes: Empathy, Difference, and the Nature of Being Human
At its core, Almond asks a simple but profound question: what does it mean to be human? Is it our capacity to feel emotions? Or is it the choices we make, the relationships we nurture, and the ways we try to connect with one another?
Through Yunjae, Sohn explores the difficulties of being different in a world that demands conformity. His condition isolates him, yet it also forces those around him—and the reader—to rethink how we define empathy. Must you feel emotions to understand them? Can you show love without expressing it in conventional ways?
The novel also tackles trauma and healing. Both Yunjae and Gon are shaped by violence, though in vastly different ways. Their journey together suggests that even in the darkest circumstances, human connection has the power to rebuild what has been broken.
The Writing: Sparse, Gentle, and Devastatingly Effective
Sandy Joosun Lee’s English translation captures the minimalist beauty of Sohn’s prose. The writing is straightforward, without unnecessary flourish, reflecting Yunjae’s flat emotional tone. Yet within that simplicity lies incredible depth. Every word feels carefully chosen, every sentence purposeful.
There are moments when the prose cuts like a knife—not because it is verbose or dramatic, but because it is restrained. The power of Almond lies in what it does not say, in the silences between words where readers are left to feel the emotions Yunjae cannot.
The Emotional Impact
Make no mistake: this is a book that will stay with you. I found myself unexpectedly moved by the smallest of moments—Yunjae noticing kindness, Gon allowing vulnerability, or the memory of Yunjae’s grandmother’s love. It’s not the kind of novel that elicits tears through melodrama, but the kind that leaves a lingering ache in your chest, a quiet reminder of our shared fragility.
For me, the beauty of Almond is how it speaks to both the head and the heart. Intellectually, it challenges you to reconsider your assumptions about empathy and identity. Emotionally, it makes you ache for Yunjae, for Gon, and for anyone who has ever felt different, isolated, or misunderstood.
Why Almond Resonates Now
In a world that often feels divided—by culture, politics, or identity—Almond reminds us of the universal desire to be seen, understood, and accepted. Its message is timeless: empathy is not about feeling what others feel, but about choosing to understand and care regardless.
This is also part of a broader wave of Korean “healing fiction” that has been gaining international popularity. Like Before the Coffee Gets Cold or The Kamogawa Food Detectives, it offers comfort in its quiet wisdom and hope in its gentle storytelling. It’s no wonder readers across the globe have embraced it.
You’ll Love This Book If You Enjoy…
- Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi
- Kim Ji-young, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-joo
- The Kamogawa Food Detectives by Hisashi Kashiwai
It’s also a wonderful introduction for those new to translated Korean literature, offering accessibility without losing its cultural richness.
Final Thoughts
Almond may be a small book, but it holds a universe of meaning. Sohn Won-pyung has crafted a novel that is both tender and searing, simple yet profound. Through Yunjae and Gon, she shows us that being human is not about feeling the “right” emotions, but about the messy, imperfect attempts to connect with one another.
I finished Almond with a full heart and a renewed appreciation for the quiet power of literature. It’s the kind of book you want to press into someone else’s hands immediately after finishing, saying, “Read this—you’ll understand.”
