Review by Booklist Review
Baek's unflinching debut, I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki (2022), was a societal game changer with its 2018 publication in Korea, exposing the potentially fatal challenges of quotidian life in a country with one of the top five suicide rates, according to the World Health Organization. Universal resonance made it an international best-seller, spawning this second memoir empathically English-enabled by National Book Award finalist Hur. Once more, Baek follows her successful format, balancing ruminative essays and transcribed conversations with her (same) psychiatrist in 14 chapters. Inspired by Roxane Gay's Hunger (2017), she's especially interrogative of her own relationship to her body, confronting binary judgments (pretty/ugly, fat/skinny) she's long endured, the damage internalized as self-condemnations of being "insignificant, worthless." Self-harm and suicidal ideation are recurring challenges. In her journey toward autonomy, she twice ignores her psychiatrist's advice and goes to "diet camp" and quits her publishing job, both with (eventually) bolstering results. "I want to keep learning about myself and finding the best user manual for my life." Wise advice for all.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
In this frank sequel to I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki, Sehee continues to document her treatment for depression and anxiety. Organized into 14 essays, each themed after one of Sehee's insecurities and framed by recorded conversations between the author and her psychiatrist, this memoir digs deeper than its predecessor, thanks in part to Sehee's realization, after reading Roxane Gay's Hunger, that she "had never been honest with myself, even as I'd baldly declared how revealing my darkness to the light was the way to become free." In plain prose (Hur's translation can border on dull), Sehee recounts obsessing over casual comments made by colleagues and friends, her debilitating fear of death, and her occasional self-harm. In the candid back-and-forths with her therapist, Sehee comes to realize she "lets others too much into myself," and resolves to trust her own voice. As with the previous book, the dialogues oscillate between arresting and numbing, with some conversations robbed of their potential power by the limits of the format. Still, Sehee's admirable commitment to showing her "deepest inner wounds" will resonate with readers struggling to unpack their own mental health issues. (Aug.)
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Review by Kirkus Book Review
In her distinctive voice, a noted South Korean author explores the roots of her mental illness and struggles toward a healthier life. Baek Sehee's I Want To Die But I Want To Eat Tteokbokki was a hit in her home country, and the English translation, which appeared in 2022, also found a broad readership. This sequel follows the same pattern of short essays interspersed with discussions with her psychiatrist. Despite having made progress in her mental health journey, the author continues to struggle with her persistent, draining depression. Through discussions with her therapist, she continues to delve into her childhood and teenage years, examining the body issues that made her overly sensitive to criticism and planted seeds of self-loathing and self-pity. Baek chronicles how she went through long periods of avoiding contact with people and drank too much. In the most distressing section of the book, she writes about falling into a powerful spiral of depression, which led to incidents of self-harm and thoughts of suicide. Some readers might find these passages disturbing, and Baek suggests that if that is the case, they should simply put the book aside for a while (which sounds like good advice). As her therapy has progressed, the author has gradually come to terms with the difficult parts of her past and learned how to put them into perspective. Healing, she realizes, is a slow but necessary process, and sharing is a part of it. "I've come this far in my writing in the belief that what may be a tedious tale to some will be a story of hope for others," she concludes. "I am grateful to those who have read this account of an unexceptional person because our dark stories are similar." Baek's journey through the dark forest of depression is sometimes painful but ultimately revelatory and inspiring. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.