An interesting series of essays about attempting to be gay and bohemian in Seoul, covering roommates and menial jobs and heartbreak. His first roommate, despite being female, is closest to being his soulmate. Read this recipe for house-sharing bliss:
I was an expert at washing dishes spotlessly, and Jaehee’s courageous soul allowed her to swipe the shower drain clean of clogged hair.
And
Like most people’s parents, (Jaehee’s parents) constantly nagged their children about propriety and how one should behave, but in their private lives joyfully indulged in affairs, excess religion, the stock market, or pyramid schemes. I had a real parasitic streak in that as much as I hated my parents, I felt completely entitled to ever coin they gave me . . . Jaehee, however, cut off contact with her parents after their blowout and refused any form of financial support thereafter. She really did have the heart of a lioness.
He has (of course) a tough relationship with his mother, who is very involved, and very religious. She dies slowly of a heart issue. Enjoy this:
. . . she asked the doctors not to anesthetize her because she wanted to participate in the pain of Jesus Christ, a declaration that (finally!) prompted her doctors to add some psychiatric treatment to her prescription . . .
That ‘(finally!)’ really made me laugh.
It is not easy being gay and bohemian anywhere, but apparently especially not in South Korea. This books paints a pretty homophobic, classist, and sexist society. At one point, for example, everyone accepts that the author will get a job purely because all the other applicants are female. It’s an interesting take on the traditional story of the artist vs the man. Apparently the man in Seoul is really not kidding around.