James Nicoll Reviews

Hye-young Pyun’s 2012 The Owl Cries is a horror-tinged thriller. The 2023 English translation is by Sora Kim-Russell.

Lawyer Ha-in Lee has no love for his abusive brother, Gyeong-in. Not only did Gyeong-in make Ha-in’s childhood a misery, as an adult Gyeong-in is a failure who sponges off Ha-in and their mother. Nevertheless, duty is duty. When Gyeong-in vanishes after a distraught, enigmatic phone-call, Ha-in sets out to find his missing brother.

This proves to have been a terrible decision.

As far as Ha-in knows, Gyeong-in was employed as a forest ranger in a restricted forest near a small village so minor it may not have a formal name. The current ranger, In-su Park, is the obvious person to question. In-su reluctantly admits to having been employed in his current position for only a couple of weeks. He claims no knowledge of Gyeong-in.

Ha-in methodically investigates, meeting nothing but brick walls. Other employees and local villagers all prove dead ends. With no clues to his brother’s whereabouts, Ha-in questions whether his brother ever worked as a ranger or if the claim was merely a self-serving lie.

Although he does not know it, Ha-in’s inquiry alarms someone who cannot afford to have Gyeong-in’s employment or the circumstances under which he vanished examined by an outsider, particularly a lawyer. Ha-in is struck and killed in a hit-and-run. With no witnesses and no traffic cameras, the police quickly conclude that the case is unsolvable and drop it.

Why happened to Gyeong-in? Why did Ha-in have to die? What secret is hidden within the forest? Absolutely none of the villagers want to find out. Some treasure their ignorance. Others fear losing what little they have. One person revels in power.

~oOo~

It may be prudent to adjust expectations. The Korean films, books, and comics I’ve read suggest that Korean authors are perfectly happy allowing their stories to play out as logic dictates, rather than according to some abstract system of justice. Thus, the little girl does not survive her encounter with a monster, the luxury tower burns to the ground, and would-be super-heroes end up in prison [1].

Not too much of a spoiler but … once Ha-in dies, he stops being the viewpoint character. This is probably for the best. I for one hope that the vehicle that stuck Ha-in was the Korean answer to Truck-kun and that the poor lawyer is off having adventures in some secondary fantasy world.

Instead, the perspective moves from character to character, allowing the author to illuminate this corrupt community from many viewpoints. Because each person has only part of the story, and because there’s nothing like an as-you-know-Bob moment here, the picture that emerges, emerges gradually.

While there are no actual supernatural elements (as much as some characters might fear them), there is a monster at the heart of the tale, someone adept at manipulating others to serve its own ends. Their motivation is both petty and malicious: in part to gain something, but in large part to revel in power.

The Owl Cries is a skillfully told story, although not one from which readers will draw much comfort.

The Owl Cries is available here (Amazon US), here (Amazon Canada), here (Amazon UK), here (Apple Books), here (Barnes & Noble), here (Chapters-Indigo), and here (Words Worth Books).

1: Have fun guessing what works I have in mind!