 |
| Playbooks Edition |
From the bestselling author of ALMOND, The Devil Wears Prada meets The Office in this witty, humane, and ultimately transformative story of a group of young workers who rebel against the status quo.
Jihye is an ordinary woman who has never been extraordinary. In her administrative job at the Academy, she silently tolerates office politics and the absurdities of Korean bureaucracy. Forever only one misplaced email away from career catastrophe, she effectively becomes a master of the silent eye-roll and the tactical coffee run. But all her efforts to endure her superiors and the semi-hostile work environment they create are upended when a new intern, Gyuok Lee, arrives.
Like a pacifist version of V in V for Vendetta, Gyuok recruits a trio of office allies to carry out plans for minor revenge. Together, these four “rebels” commit tiny protests against those in more powerful positions through spraying graffiti, throwing eggs, and writing anonymous exposés. But as their attacks increase, the initial joy they felt at the release becomes something more and Jihye and the others will discover the beauty of friendship and the extraordinary power of unity against adversity.
***
Title : Counterattack at Thirty
Author : Sohn Won-Pyung
Published year : 2025
First published year : 2017
Pages : 236
Genre : Fiction, Korean contemporary
Age recommendation : 17
I loved reading Almond during Covid era back in 2020 , and when I saw a new book by the same author in the deal tab of my Play Books app, I had no hesitation in purchasing it and reading it right after I finished my current read.
It is fascinating that Counterattack at Thirty (CaT) is originally published in Korea just six months after Almond (in 2017) yet the narration, style and theme are completely different.
The story is told in the first person by a woman named Jihye. From the very first sentence, I was hooked—just as I had been with Almond. Jihye was a common baby name in Korea during the late ’80s, which meant there were often several students with the same name in a single class. And just like her name, Jihye is portrayed as a typical woman in Korea—working in a decent job with a below-average salary, in an office full of politics.
Jihye always tries not to stand out in her surroundings. She does just enough to fulfill her job requirements and avoids putting in extra effort to gain attention, appreciation, or—worse—additional tasks. In her thirties, she is still working as an intern, promising herself every year to do better but never truly taking action.
She lives alone in a semi-basement apartment, unknown to her parents. She once tried to improve herself by attending a foreign language course—only to realize later that it was a waste of time and money.
Her direct supervisor is a woman juggling between family and career, putting in extra effort to be liked by the team head. This causes her workload and stress to pile up, which makes her even more demanding toward Jihye. Meanwhile, the team head is a bossy manager who orders everyone around. He is also the one who withholds a permanent position from Jihye, even though she has been working there for more than six months.
Then one day, an additional intern joined the office—a man named Gyuok. He was capable and lovable, working hard to tackle any task thrown his way. Everyone in the office liked him, even the stingy team head.
But Jihye always felt something odd about Gyuok’s easygoing demeanor. Maybe it was because she knew something about him that no one else did. Or maybe it was simply that Gyuok had started to shake her belief that an unseen, unnoticed life was better.
First, Gyuok asked Jihye to join a ukulele class at the academy. They worked at an academy where employees could take courses for free—or so it seemed. In reality, the course fees were automatically deducted from their salaries each month. Since the deduction was inevitable, Gyuok suggested it was best to take the most expensive course possible to make it worth the cost. Ever since she had started working at the academy, Jihye had never taken a single course.
She found Gyuok’s reasoning sensible, so she joined the class. There, she met a few people who would later become her inner circle. They gathered once or twice a week to share drinks and, eventually, to start their own small rebellion. Not a grand protest—just harmless pranks against the unfairness of society.
They painted murals, sent anonymous letters to the team head, and more. During these planning sessions, Jihye began to feel a sense of kinship—a strange but warm feeling that she was accepted by others who shared her ideas. Yet later, she wondered if she truly shared their values, or if she was simply going along to be accepted.
Then, her past—one that had haunted her for years—returned, shaking her identity once again. Was she still the same person who couldn’t stand up for herself? Or had she finally found her courage?
Counterattack at Thirty feels like an easier, lighter read compared to the serious and dark Almond. Yet it manages to explore many pressing societal issues that are far from light. Jihye, as ordinary as her name, represents a snapshot of the current working conditions in modern society—a woman in a not-woman-friendly office, working under a misogynistic boss, quietly resigning herself to just doing her job. She’s denied the chance to prove her capabilities simply because she joined the workforce “too late.” Her reserved personality is often taken advantage of by those around her.
I think many people will relate to Jihye and cheer for every prank she pulls. Later, her character development feels like a big win—not just for her, but for us as readers.
This book is witty and funny, true to Sohn Won-pyung’s signature style. The first half may feel a little slow, and the second half perhaps too fast-paced, but I liked how the author inserted just the right touch of romance—enough to add warmth without losing focus.
It’s a good read. Though I still prefer Almond, this book feels somewhat like Violets, only in a lighter form.
Comments
Post a Comment