Week 1: Welcome to hyunam-dong Ft tea and stroopwafel

For my first book review for this blog, I chose Welcome to Hyunam-dong, written by Hwang Bo Reum and translated by Shanna Tan.

When people talk about a “comfort read,” this book is what I will picture from now on. It feels so lived-in, yet so fresh. Honestly, when I picked it up, I didn’t know anything about the author or whether it would be a good read. It was a chance encounter, and my intuition told me to give it a shot. Truth be told, I was desperate for something light—something not as heavy—but still substantial enough to keep me engaged. I didn’t want fluff; I wanted warmth. As someone who often watches Korean dramas (yes, call me cliché), I was curious if this book could deliver that same emotional “umph.” And oh, did it deliver.

Welcome to Hyunam-dong tells the story of Yeongju, a woman completely burned out from her life. On paper, she has it all: a successful career and a demanding marriage. But instead of feeling fulfilled, she feels drained and exhausted. So, she makes a radical decision: she quits her job, divorces her husband, and leaves the city to start over. She moves to a small neighborhood and opens a bookshop, stepping into an entirely new chapter of her life.

This transition isn’t easy for Yeongju. For the first time in a long while, she has time—time she doesn’t know what to do with except cry. But as she reflects on her life and works toward becoming a better bookseller, she starts building something meaningful. The story takes us along her journey, introducing us to the people who walk into her store. Each person has their own story, their own burdens, yet they all find solace in the bookshop—and in one another.

As a reader, you can’t help but care deeply for these fictional characters and the fictional store that becomes their safe haven. I found myself rooting for them, wanting to hug them in their low moments and cheer them on in their triumphs. This is the kind of book you want to read nonstop but also savor slowly. Finishing it was bittersweet. On one hand, I felt happy knowing Yeongju and the others were doing okay. On the other, I was sad that I wouldn’t get to follow more of their lives.

This book left me filled with hope. It reminded me that no matter where you are in life, it’s never too late to start anew and find joy again.

And because reading this book felt so cozy, I couldn’t help but enjoy it with some treats! The one I’d recommend pairing with this story is a stroopwafel. It’s a hard cookie that softens when you warm it over tea, turning into something gooey and amazing. It’s the perfect metaphor for Yeongju herself—not hard, but a little closed off at first. As she softens, she becomes someone more open and kind, both to herself and to those around her.

Just like the crumbs from the stroopwafel, the emotional crumbs this book leaves behind are worth every bit of the mess.