Han Kang’s Human Acts is a jarring yet moving revelation of what people are capable of inflicting on others and of absorbing themselves. Known for her ability to touch upon subjects which are often too difficult to talk about, Kang takes you through a painful journey of time, beginning with the violent state suppression of the Gwangju Democracy movement which led to brutal killings of thousands and through decades of suffering following that. Kang’s words echo perennial pain and anguish, despondence and suffering through every page. Most often books that make me uneasy, make me want to put them down, more my problem than the authors’, but somehow, human acts made me want to carry on, and just deal with it. Like it was the least I could do.
Kang, who was only a kid when the movement took place, writes from a personal space of knowing these people as victims. People who were not just numbers or bodies but individuals. Her writing shakes you up, stirs something inside you and makes you view these characters not just as mere statistics but as people who had families, aspirations, and a future that they could no longer be a part of.
Human Acts makes us rethink: what really is to be human, what means to be human, what is humanity, what actions are humanly okay and what are not. It very neatly peels off our understanding of humanity or human-like. It uncovers the difference between what we would like the idea of “human-like” to be versus what it usually is– cruel, brutal, malicious.
Not only does it undo our understanding and fundamentals of what we assume humans are capable of but also touches upon the larger political discourse of power, democracy and freedom. All through my reading of this book, it made me cherish and value my independence and freedom and forced me to think of what my life would be otherwise. It gets under your skin, in a way that you least expect it- making you want to protect your freedom, clench on to it and safeguard it with your life while at the same time evoking a certain disdain for humanity and people, making you wonder – what really is the point of it all?
Kang’s characters are normal people, there is nothing out of the ordinary about them, but they suffer the cruelest acts one can imagine, and contrary to what they are exposed to, continue to display tenderness and exude warmth towards those like them. Just like the reader, Kang’s characters at first are utterly shocked by what they go through, somehow oblivious to what could happen to them. She often makes a point to demonstrate this naivete through her character’s thoughts and questions. Most of her characters are very young, school kids including a middle schooler–who is unable to comprehend what he and his friend go through or envisage what would happen to him, despite self-witnessing the brutal reality.
As the book progresses, we are introduced to characters that went through similar situations but have survived and are struggling through their lives as adults. Kang’s writing makes the reader go through the same journey her characters go through–shock, disbelief, pain, anguish, exhaustion, resentment, resignation and mourning. The book starts with the youngest character exposed to the naked reality of human acts and ends with his mother mourning his death –an elderly woman struggling with her everyday life wondering what she could have done differently that would have saved her son’s life.
Kang shocks us, shakes us, rattles us and makes us think– what really is to be human and what are we truly capable of. She shows us the disgusting, gut wrenching ugliness of being human.
