Growing up ordinary in a toxic work culture

"The whole world dances to the song of capitalism," writes Won-Pyung Sohn in Counterattack at Thirty, her compelling second novel that made waves across South Korea in 2022. Translated by Sean Lin Halbert earlier this year, the thought-provoking novel provides a nuanced exploration of the oppressive and demoralising work culture that is prevalent in contemporary Seoul. Through the perspective of Kim Jhiye, an ordinary intern in her 30s, the first person narration highlights the systemic injustices that remain pervasive in capitalist societies—both in South Korea and beyond.

 The narrative is its strongest point of the novel, where protagonist Jhiye's story is both particular and universal as Sohn incorporates broader social critiques in the mundane details of the character's daily struggle. Sohn's decision to portray Jhiye as seemingly unexceptional, almost imperceptible,  is intentional and powerful, echoing the experiences of people who have been rendered invisible under the pressure of conformity. 

Counterattack at Thirty opens with Jhiye reminiscing her childhood, delineating how the commonality of the name 'Jhiye' made her feel invisible, so much so that she continued to face difficulty in asserting herself well into adulthood.  She shares the experience of attending a class in school with seven other girls named Jhiye, all differentiated only by assigned letters—the protagonist Jhiye is "B". This symbolic erasure and the continued state of invisibility contribute to her ongoing internal conflict. Her name, which allowed her the comfort of obscurity, also reflects a struggle for identity and self-determination. 

As Jhiye recounts her experience of interning at Diamant Academy, a subsidiary of a vast conglomerate, the novel delves into the monotony and futility of her work. Sohn does an excellent job in depicting the frustration and disillusionment Jhiye experiences at her first job. Her resentment of the toxic work culture and the capitalist system that perpetuates inequality was a reflection of reality that resonated with many of us.  The tediousness of copying lecture notes and reorganising the classrooms every day reflects a larger issue—the monotony and alienation of working under capitalism. The toxic work culture Jhiye endures is a driving force that shapes her identity and worldview. 

One of the novel's most engaging aspects is the representation of Jhiye's relationships with her unlikely comrades: Gyoul, Muin, and Mr. Nam. The way the group's connection formed and evolved is a fascinating development. The way their individual frustrations and rage fuel their need for retaliation, even if quiet ones, emphasises the need for resistance against a system that continues to oppress. From sending notes to a domineering boss to egging a politician, their "counterattacks" stems from a profound sense of injustice and powerlessness. Sohn's nuanced critique of capitalism along with the significance of individual responsibility are well incorporated throughout the novel.  Jhiye's moments of contemplation, such as questioning whether she is an "accomplice" within an unfair system that Muin struggles against, resonate deeply with the readers, inviting us to question our own complicity in structures that sustain inequality.

The writer also skillfully highlights the intersection of class privilege and resistance. Muin's refusal to participate in the group's last counterattack starkly contrasts Gyuok's desperation to disrupt the status quo. This ideological and material clash illuminates the complexities of resistance in a deeply hierarchical society. Muin, burdened by financial struggles, accepts money for his screenplay from the same organisation that stole his previous work, thus betraying his friends who were staging a demonstration to expose the truth of the thieving institution. While Gyouk, whose privileged background is a revelation to us all, remains devoted to disruption despite the risks. These dynamic poses difficult questions: is it only those with money and power who possess the privilege to resist? How can one opt out of a system when they need to partake in it in order to survive? 

While the novel's pacing occasionally feels uneven and the plot seems too simplistic at times, the thematic impact remains consequential. The duality of hope and resignation depicted throughout the novel mirrors the reality of all those struggling to survive under systemic violence and injustice. By the end of the novel, the readers are left pondering profound questions: what responsibility do we bear in upholding unjust systems? In what ways might we be complicit, even culpable, in systems that exploit and subjugate?

Focusing on themes of systemic injustice, and resistance, Counterattack at Thirty is a captivating and timely read—perfect for anyone interested in personal narratives infused with keen social commentary. 

Kashfia Nahreen is a passionate reader and an aspiring writer who spends her days cuddling with her cats.