#translated by deborah smith

[words-and-coffee]

She headed straight to the heart of the darkness, which lacked even a single point of light, and where not even the road beneath her feet could be seen. Like a blind owl, she walked as one with the darkness, undisturbed by it.

Bae Suah, Untold Night and Day (translated by Deborah Smith)

[metamorphesque]

The Fruit of My Woman, Han Kang (translated by Deborah Smith)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Han Kang, “Human Acts” (translated by Deborah Smith)

S4E17, Demonology // S12E7, Mirror Image // S2E5, Aftermath // S10E11, The Forever People

[firstfullmoon]

what do you think about han kang winning the Nobel prize?!!

hi ! from a literary/political point of view really happy about it, both in terms of what it means for a south korean writer to win the nobel and for a south korean feminist to win it in the context of the recent backlash / rise of violence against women in south korea. also I haven’t read human acts but am so curious about this book + saw someone on twitter celebrating that the nobel went to a writer whose major work asks the question “how do you live in a world where the state can just murder an unaccountable number of people and then nothing changes how can you live” and I think it’s a powerful message in the midst of what is currently happening in palestine and lebanon but also really everywhere in the world. however.....from a personal point of view I’ve only read the vegetarian which I did not like although I do think it was an issue of translation (it felt so clunky and afterwards I read several articles about deborah smith which reinforced my feelings on the matter). I want to reread the vegetarian and her other works (especially human acts) in their french translation (co-translated by a french-korean woman which gives me hope for a more faithful translation) and hopefully that will change my opinion cause it’s SUCH a shame for one bad translation to tarnish a writer’s work

[fatehbaz]

Organizing more notes. Some recent-ish books on German colonialism and imperial imaginaries of space/place, especially in Africa:

----

German Colonialism in Africa and its Legacies: Architecture, Art, Urbanism, and Visual Culture (Edited by Itohan Osayimwese, Bloomsbury Publishing, 2023)

An Imperial Homeland: Forging German Identity in Southwest Africa (Adam A. Blackler, Penn State University Press, 2023)

Coconut Colonialism: Workers and the Globalization of Samoa (Holger Droessler, Harvard University Press, 2022)

Colonial Geography: Race and Space in German East Africa, 1884-1905 (Matthew Unangst, University of Toronto Press, 2022)

The Play World: Toys, Texts, and the Transatlantic German Childhood (Patricia Anne Simpson, 2020)

Learning Empire: Globalization and the German Quest for World Status, 1875-1919 (Erik Grimmer-Solem, Cambridge University Press, 2019)

Violence as Usual: Policing and the Colonial State in German Southwest Africa (Marie A. Muschalek, 2019)

Revenants of the German Empire: Colonial Germans, the League of Nations, and Imperialism (Sean Andrew Wempe, 2019)

Rethinking Black German Studies: Approaches, Interventions and Histories (Edited by Tiffany Florvil and Vanessa Plumly, 2018)

German Colonial Wars and the Context of Military Violence (Susanne Kuss, translated by Andrew Smith, Harvard University Press, 2017)

Colonialism and Modern Architecture in Germany (Itohan Osayimwese, University of Pittsburgh Press, 2017)

---

German Colonialism in a Global Age (Edited by Bradley Naranch and Geoff Eley, 2014) Including:

"Empire by Land or Sea? Germany's Imperial Imaginary, 1840-1945" (Geoff Eley)

"Science and Civilizing Missions: Germans and the Transnational Community of Tropical Medicine" (Deborah J. Neill)

"Ruling Africa: Science as Sovereignty in the German Colonial Empire and Its Aftermath" (Andrew Zimmerman)

"Mass-Marketing the Empire: Colonial Fantasies and Advertising Visions" (David Ciarlo)

---

German Colonialism and National Identity (Edited by Michael Perraudin and Jurgen Zimmerer, 2017). Including:

"Between Amnesia and Denial: Colonialism and German National Identity" (Perraudin and Zimmerer)

"Exotic Education: Writing Empire for German Boys and Girls, 1884-1914" (Jeffrey Bowersox)

"Beyond Empire: German Women in Africa, 1919-1933" (Britta Schilling)

---

Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (David Ciarlo, Harvard University Press, 2011)

The German Forest: Nature, Identity, and the Contestation of a National Symbol, 1871-1914 (Jeffrey K. Wilson, University of Toronto Press, 2012)

The Devil's Handwriting: Precoloniality and the German Colonial State in Qingdao, Samoa, and Southwest Africa (George Steinmetz, 2007)

[eggtrolls]

haiku misinformation: a fact check

there's an post going around about haiku that has a lot of incorrect information about haiku, its terminology, history, etc. I will try to debunk some of the biggest inaccuracies here. everything in quotes is a direct statement from the original post. this is also really, really long.

"Haiku are made of 14 on, which are essentially the equivalent to Japanese syllabic structures, except the nature of how Japanese as a language is constructed versus English means that any given proper haiku could be translated in extremely and intensely different ways, each giving a subtle but distinctly different meaning."

Starting off strong - haiku are (usually) made of 17 on. It's the classic 5-7-5 pattern! 5+7+5=17! [possibly this is a mix-up with wakiku (脇(わき)句(く)) which is another type of Japanese poetry that does use 14 on but who knows.]

Definitions: an on is a phonetic unit, the equivalent to a mora (pl. morae) in English. this concept a) exists in English and b) like on, is related to syllables but distinctly different from them (i.e. ba is one mora but baa with a long vowel is two morae). On can be counted using the number of hiragana (phonetic syllabic characters) when the text is transliterated, so a word like Osaka that has the long O sound (made up of 4 kana) would be 4 morae or 4 on (o-o-sa-ka; おおさか). it's not really a syllabic structure at all, and more importantly has nothing to do with translation. idk where that last part comes from because that's really...not the point here. Yes, any given "proper" haiku could be translated in different ways with a subtle but distinctly different meaning but that's true of just...translation, period. check out Deborah Smith's translation of The Vegetarian by Han Kang for more on that.

Furthermore, haiku were/are not rigidly locked into the 5-7-5 on pattern. That's just not true, which is why I said usually above. Easy example: a 1676 haiku by Matsuo Basho that uses 18-on:

冨士の風や　扇にのせて 江戸土産; ふじのかぜや おうぎにのせて えどみやげ; the wind of Fuji /I've brought on my fan/a gift from Edo <- that first line is 6-on!

2. "The best way I can explain what I mean is that in English a good poem can be defined as a shallow river, whereas a good haiku is a deeply-dug well."

Not dignifying this with a response. Deeply incorrect and untrue. @bill-blake-fans-anonymous can handle this assertion.

3. "The presence of the kigu. There is a specific series of characters/words which are used to imply a season, and specifically a specific aspect of a season which the haiku revolves around. The creation of a haiku is often done as a meditative practice revolving around the kigu--you're essentially contemplating on this particular natural feature (nearly always the temporal aspect emphasizes either ephemerality or the opposite as well bc Buddhist ideas of enlightenment and beauty begin coming into play) and building an evocative and purposeful point that revolves around it like a hinge. It functions as both ground and anchor."

First (and largest) problem: the word. is. kigo. kigo. It's ki (季; season)-go (語; word) = 季語. Both the English and Japanese language Wikipedia, or a 3-second google search, will tell you this immediately. I have no idea where the term kigu comes from.

Second problem: plenty of haiku, both traditional and contemporary, do not use kigo. these are described as muki (無季; seasonless). Matsuo Basho, the haiku-writing poet non-Japanese people are most likely to know, wrote at least ten seasonless haiku that exist today. Masaoka Shiki, the Meiji-era haiku poet and reformist, wrote hundreds of kigo-free haiku and as an agnostic, tried to separate haiku from Buddhism and focus more on the shasei, the sketches from daily life. you can actually, today, buy what are called saijiki, which are lists of words and terms that refer to specific seasons (in the traditional Japanese calendar, so there are actually a lot of "micro" seasons as well). some saijiki include a whole section of "seasonles" words - here's an article about non-season kigo in a saijiki.

so the claim that English-language haiku are invalid or not "real" haiku because they lack a kigo doesn't hold up, unless you invalidate a whole bunch of Japanese haiku as well. the op also claimed they would categorize a lot of English "haiku" as senryū which is...an opinion. Yes, haiku tend to be focused around nature (more on that below) and senryū tend to be more comedic or about human foibles but...that's it! it's a tendency! it's not a hard and fast rule!

Third problem: the claim that a haiku is as meditative practice revolving around the kigu kigo...yeah, no. the earlier form of haiku, the hokku, were the introductory poems of the longer poetic form, the renga and the hokku gradually became a standalone poetic form known as haiku. the hokku had a lot of purposes and we have a historical record of them going back ~1000 years to Emperor Juntoku where they were declamatory poems tied to events (births, deaths, etc.) or social events (moon-viewing parties) - not really meditative. haiku, if a genre can focus on a single idea, focus on an experience and that can be real or imaginary, direct and personal or neither.

Here's another Basho poem for your consideration:

夏草や 兵どもが 夢の跡 (natsukusa ya tsuwamonodomo ga yume no ato; summer grasses--/traces of dreams/of ancient warriors)

both the dreams and the grasses are those of Basho (contemporary) and of the warriors (ancient); it's about travel, it's about connecting the present to the ancient past, it's not really so much about the summer.

(Fourth, minor problem that I'm not really going to get into: you'd have to take this 'Buddhist ideas of enlightenment and beauty' up with haiku scholar Haruo Shirane but he explicitly says in the Routledge Global Haiku Reader (2024) that "pioneers of English-language haiku [such as D.T. Suzuki, Alan Watts, and the Beats] mistakenly emphasized Zen Buddhism in Japanese haiku".....so.)

4. "The presence of the kireji...it's a concept borderline absent from English because it's an intersection of linguistics and philosophy that doesn't really exist outside of the context of Japanese."

Let's begin with clarification. What is kireji (lit. a 'cutting word')? It's a class of terms in Japanese poetry that can do a few things, depending on the specific kireji and its place in the poem. In the middle of the poem, it can mark a thematic break, a cut in the stream of thought highlighting the parallel(s) between the preceding and following phrases. At the end of the poem, it provides a sense of ending and closure - it helps mark rhythmic division, to say the least, and it is seen as the 'pivot' word.

Two problems with claims above:

a. there are haiku that do not use kireji. For the hat trick, here's a Matsuo Basho haiku from 1689 AD that is kireji-free: 初しぐれ猿も小蓑をほしげ也 (hatsu shigure saru mo komino wo hoshige nari; the first cold shower/even the monkey seems to want/a little coat of straw) <- NB: I love this haiku so much

b. the idea of a kireji, as in a pivot word that provides an inflection point with rhythmic division and structure, exist not just in English poetry but in multiple different types of poetry across time and space! The caesura in Latin and Ancient Greek! The volta in sonnets! Whatever is happening in the third line of the Korean sijo!

final thoughts:

the op included language, which I won't quote here because it was messy and tied into other rbs, about Orientalism and appropriation in English-language haiku, which is definitely a real thing. but this blanket statement ignores that the relationship between haiku and "the West", much like Japan and "the West", was and is not a one-way street. Western writers were influenced by haiku and, in turn, those writers influenced Japanese writers who wrote haiku inspired by these influences - this process has been going on for well over a century. Furthermore, English and Japanese are not the only languages in which haiku are written! Nobel Prize winner Rabindranath Tagore was writing haiku in Bengali; other Indian poets were and are writing them in Gujrati and Malayalam, particularly by the poet Ashitha. the Pakistani poet Omer Tarin has written haiku about Hiroshima! The Spanish poet Lorca published haiku in, get this, Spanish, in 1921 and the Mexican poet José Juan Tablada published more in 1922! Italian translations of Yosano Akiko were published in 1919! any discussion of the idea that English/non-Japanese-language haiku aren't really haiku because they don't hold to the "rules" (which Japanese authors have been revising, adapting, critiquing, and/or straight up flouting for centuries) or because English/non-Japanese poetry is "a shallow river whereas a good haiku is a deeply-dug well" just shows a lack of knowledge around traditions and depths of...well, poetry itself.

my god this is so long.

in summary: this is a complex topic. If anyone would like some actual information about haiku, its history, common themes and forms, or a collection of good poets, the Routledge Global Haiku Reader (2024) and Haiku Before Haiku : From the Renga Masters to Basho (2011) are great references and really accessible in their language! hmu if you're interested and I can send you some pdfs.

[the-feral-gremlin]

Grief lessons: the four plays by Euripides by Anne Carson // I know it’s a little late by Brenna Twohy // the unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath by Sylvia Plath // human acts by Han kang (translated by Deborah Smith)//Vive, Vive by Traci Brimhall// Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson.

[smokefalls]

Soundlessly, and without fuss, some tender thing deep inside me broke. Something that, until then, I hadn’t even realized was there.

Han Kang, Human Acts (translated by Deborah Smith)

[antigonick]

Hi! You mentioned starting small with short books to climb out of burnout and since I've been looking for a way out myself, could/would you rec a few of these books? Fiction, non-fiction, poetry - anything is fine by me! 🧡

Yes of course! If you look up "reading slump" on my blog, you'll find a few answers where I talk about short recs, reading children lit or quick crime stories especially, but in this instance here are the books that helped me get back into the saddle—I prioritised page-turners with strong prose, so that I wouldn't fall into either boredom or frustration.

I Who Have Never Known Men, written by Jacqueline Chapman and translated by Ros Schwartz

Dawn, Octavia Butler

Howl's Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones

The Thief and The Queen of Attolia, both from The Queen's Thief series by Meghan Whalen Turner

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, written by the Pearl Poet and translated by Simon Armitage

Hamlet, by, uh, William Shakespeare

Much Ado about Nothing, also by Billy

Dog Songs by Mary Oliver (I re-read it constantly)

And not exactly short, but they might have helped rewiring my brain for reading, so :

The Locked Tomb series:

Gideon the Ninth

Harrow the Ninth

Nona the Ninth

I have The King of Eddis (also from The Queen's Thief series), Han Kang's Greek Lessons translated by Deborah Smith, and Octavia Butler's Kindred lined up if that also sparks inspiration! I hope this helps and reading comes back soon for you, MWAH.

PS: OH, yeah, I often keep track of what I read on Goodreads and rate it, if you want to steal ideas!

[words-and-coffee]

In the past, people were vaguely fearful of photographs, believing the camera's exact reproduction of their own image would steal their souls. Not only did these images survive for much longer than their subjects, they were also endowed with an aura of magic the subjects lacked. A superstition, but one whose traces can still be felt today. People sense that the photograph captures an uncanny moment in the interstices of reality, enhancing reality's eeriness, the root of which is unknown, and fixing that moment in place like a death mask. Photography differs from the art of painting in that capturing or exposing such a moment happens neither at the will of the photographer nor the one who is photographed. What is photographed is a ghost moment, clothed in matter. Photography is the dream of comprehensive meaning. Each object has parts of itself that are invisible. This territory, which neither the photographer nor the subject can govern, constitutes the secret kept by the object. Unrelated to the intention of either photographer or subject, within the magic of photography dwells a still, quiet shock. Try to imagine our house one day when we ourselves are no more. Somewhere in that house is the ghost of us, which will pass alone in front of a blind mirror, revealing our own blurred image.

Bae Suah, Untold Night and Day (translated by Deborah Smith)

[williams-spare-chassis]

pls do make that ls x bttws web weave 😭😭😭

every single thing to come has turned into ashes

Bigger Than The Whole Sky, Taylor Swift // doomsday, Lizzy McAlpine // How We Fight for Our Lives, Saeed Jones // Human Acts, Han Kang (translated by Deborah Smith) // anonymous // anonymous

thank you anon for the push otherwise i would've procrastinated and never finished this 🙈🙈

[dk-thrive]

Those snapshot moments, when it seemed we’d all performed the miracle of stepping outside the shell of our own selves, one person’s tender skin coming into grazed contact with another, felt as though they were rethreading the sinews of that world heart, patching up the fissures from which blood had flowed, making it beat again.

— Han Kang, Human Acts. (Hogarth; January 17, 2017) (translated by Deborah Smith)

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

What is your opinion about Han Kang winning the 2024 nobel prize in literature? Is she the best representative of Korean literature nowadays?

This took a while to answer, sorry nonnie. I wanted to try making this as informative and helpful as possible- plus I was(and still am) kinda busy with preparing for college entrance stuff😅.

So!!! To answer your question:

The Korean author 한강(Han Kang) mainly writes fiction about human life and resisting violence, or historical fiction dealing with Korean modern history; I'm gonna focus more on the historical fiction side here though.

Her historical novels focus on the mental & physical scars left on Korea during the tumultuous period right after the Japanese Colonial Period & the Korean War, through the eyes of ordinary people whose lives were destroyed by each event. So Han Kang winning the Nobel Prize is super meaningful to us, because it means the world is taking an interest in Korean history, and the pain we went through.

There's a well-known quote in Korea; it was said by the Japanese Colonial Period Independence Activist & leader of the Provisional Korean Government, 김구(Kim Gu).

"오직 한없이 가지고 싶은 것은 높은 문화의 힘이다. 문화의 힘은 우리 자신을 행복하게 하고, 나아가서 남에게 행복을 주기 때문이다."

("The only thing I wish we had limitlessly is high power of culture. For the power of culture brings joy to ourselves, and furthermore gives joy to others.")

This quote means cultural power is crucial in drawing in the world to our side. If other countries enjoy our culture, they'll also take an interest in understanding us, which will in turn lead to them taking an interest in our wellbeing & listening to our voice. In fact, it's happening right now! People are learning Korean for K-Pop and K-Dramas! People are getting interested in Korean culture!! Han Kang won the Nobel Prize for books about our history!!!

So, yeah. I think Han Kang's Nobel Prize is very important to Korea, because we're now one step closer to the world acknowledging the sufferings of our country that previously went unrecognized.

And yes, I think Han Kang's novels are a good representation not just of Korean literature, but of the spirit of Korea as well! A number of her works describe some horrific incidents in our history, and others present a calm sort of criticism on the violence of society. <채식주의자(The Vegetarian)>, one of her better-known works of fiction, is a neat slightly grotesque(?) example of this recurring theme of advocating for peace and resisting violence. (This one isn't about history BTW! It's about a woman resisting the lifestyle of her secular family.)

Both history and peace are especially important themes to Koreans. History, because we're always striving not to let it repeat & not to let unsolved disputes be forgotten. Peace, because we're in constant danger, from being the world's one and only divided country, among other things.

BUT, as many Koreans are pointing out, Han Kang is- though undisputedly very talented- one of many amazing writers in Korea. In fact, I've even heard people say up to 60~70% of Korean authors are likely capable of winning the Nobel Prize, if only their work would be translated properly. I- and a lot of others- think Han Kang's success on the international level is not only thanks to her own stellar talent, but also to her translator, Deborah Smith. Deborah Smith has been translating Han Kang's works for a while now, and her thoughtful translations have been much appreciated. NGL, I've seen so many Korean-to-English translations that suck so bad, so seeing Korean literature get translated by someone who very obviously cares a lot about the text? It was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in the school auditorium for two hours. (And yes, I have just walked out of the school auditorium after being stuck there for two hours.)

This is a lil besides the point, but this is part of why I'm planning to start a Korean literature YouTube channel after I graduate. So many great works of Korean literature either have low-quality translations or don't have any at all, and I want to introduce those works to the wider world properly.

I still have a few months to go till graduation though, so in the meantime, I hope Han Kang's works, at least, get all the well-earned love and respect it deserves.

Thanks for the ask nonnie, and sorry again for the late answer! Feel free to ask if you have any additional questions- though I'm gonna be honest, I'll probably be late in answering those as well.😅 College entrance preparation is hard haha.

-Lilly xx

[justforbooks]

South Korean writer Han Kang has won the 2024 Nobel Prize for Literature, announced this morning by the Swedish Academy in Stockholm. Kang was cited for "her intense poetic prose" that "confronts historical traumas and invisible sets of rules and, in each of her works, exposes the fragility of human life. She has a unique awareness of the connections between body and soul, the living and the dead, and in her poetic and experimental style has become an innovator in contemporary prose." She is the first Korean to win the Nobel Prize for Literature. She receives 11 million Swedish kronor (just over $1 million).

Kang is best known in the English-speaking world for The Vegetarian, translated by Deborah Smith (Hogarth), which won the Man Booker International Prize for fiction in 2016 and was made into a movie. (See our review here.) The Swedish Academy commented: "Written in three parts, the book portrays the violent consequences that ensue when its protagonist Yeong-hye refuses to submit to the norms of food intake. Her decision not to eat meat is met with various, entirely different reactions. Her behaviour is forcibly rejected by both her husband and her authoritarian father, and she is exploited erotically and aesthetically by her brother-in-law, a video artist who becomes obsessed with her passive body. Ultimately, she is committed to a psychiatric clinic, where her sister attempts to rescue her and bring her back to a 'normal' life. However, Yeong-hye sinks ever deeper into a psychosis-like condition expressed through the 'flaming trees,' a symbol for a plant kingdom that is as enticing as it is dangerous."

Her other titles published in English include The White Book, translated by Deborah Smith (Hogarth), which was shortlisted for the Man Booker International Prize in 2018; Human Acts: A Novel, translated by Deborah Smith (Hogarth) (see our review here); Greek Lessons, translated by Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won (Hogarth) (see our review here); and We Do Not Part: A Novel, translated by Emily Yae Won and Paige Aniyah Morris (Hogarth). Mongolian Mark won the Yi Sang Literary Prize in 2005, and her novella Baby Buddha won the Korean Literature Novel Award in 1999 and was made into a film. She has published other novels, novellas, and poetry in Korean.

Kang's first published works were poems that appeared in 1993. The following year, her first short story appeared. Her other honors include the Today's Young Artist Award and the Manhae Prize for Literature. She has taught creative writing at the Seoul Institute of the Arts.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[poetlcs]

sharing some books I read recently and recommend for women in translation month!

for more: @world-literatures

Two Sisters by Ngarta Jinny Bent & Jukuna Mona Chuguna (Translated from Walmajarri by Eirlys Richards and Pat Lowe)

The only known books translated from this Indigenous Australian language, tells sisters Ngarta and Jakuna's experience living in traditional Walmajarri ways.

2. Human Acts by Han Kang (Translated from South Korean by Deborah Smith)

Gwangju, South Korea, 1980. In the wake of a viciously suppressed student uprising, a boy searches for his friend's corpse, a consciousness searches for its abandoned body, and a brutalised country searches for a voice.

3. Things We Lost in the Fire by Mariana Enriquez (Translated from Spanish by Megan McDowell)

Short story collection exploring the realities of modern Argentina. So well written - with stories that are as engrossing and captivating as they are macabre and horrifying.

4. Portrait of an Unknown Lady by Maria Gainza (Translated from Spanish by Thomas Bunstead)

In the Buenos Aires art world, a master forger has achieved legendary status. Rumored to be a woman, she seems especially gifted at forging canvases by the painter Mariette Lydis, a portraitist of Argentine high society. On the trail of this mysterious forger is our narrator, an art critic and auction house employee through whose hands counterfeit works have passed.

5. My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrente (Translated from Italian by Ann Goldstein)

My Brilliant Friend is a rich, intense and generous-hearted story about two friends, Elena and Lila. Through the lives of these two women, Ferrante tells the story of a neighbourhood, a city and a country as it is transformed in ways that, in turn, also transform the relationship between her two protagonists.

6. Childhood by Tove Ditlevsen (Translated from Danish by Tiina Nunnally and Michael Favala Goldman)

Tove knows she is a misfit, whose childhood is made for a completely different girl. In her working-class neighbourhood in Copenhagen, she is enthralled by her wild, red-headed friend Ruth, who initiates her into adult secrets. But Tove cannot reveal her true self to her or to anyone else.

7. La Bastarda by Trifonia Melibea Obono (Translated from Spanish by Lawrence Schimel)

The first novel by an Equatorial Guinean woman to be translated into English, La Bastarda is the story of the orphaned teen Okomo, who lives under the watchful eye of her grandmother and dreams of finding her father. Forbidden from seeking him out, she enlists the help of other village outcasts: her gay uncle and a gang of “mysterious” girls reveling in their so-called indecency. Drawn into their illicit trysts, Okomo finds herself falling in love with their leader and rebelling against the rigid norms of Fang culture.

8. Strange Beasts of China by Yan Ge (Translated from Chinese by Jeremy Tiang)

In the fictional Chinese city of Yong’an, an amateur cryptozoologist is commissioned to uncover the stories of its fabled beasts. Aided by her elusive former professor and his enigmatic assistant, our narrator sets off to document each beast, and is slowly drawn deeper into a mystery that threatens her very sense of self.