Korean author Kim Hyun Sook and American illustrator Ryan Estrada have released the third book in their acclaimed "Banned Book Club" series, titled "Good Old-Fashioned Korean Spirit." This semi-autobiographical graphic novel continues to explore life under Korea's authoritarian regime in the 1980s, ironically becoming subject to modern book bans in the United States despite addressing the dangers of censorship.
Following last year's "No Rules Tonight," the second book in the series, this latest installment demonstrates the project's significant international appeal across different generations and cultures. While the title may seem less provocative than its predecessors, "Good Old-Fashioned Korean Spirit" delivers an equally powerful examination of how authoritarian rule destroys social trust and, more importantly, how communities can rebuild that trust.
The graphic novel skillfully weaves together themes of anarchy, queer love, and traditional Korean spirituality while maintaining its core identity as an entertaining comedy with serious political undertones. The story begins with an engaging "getting the band back together" sequence that reintroduces readers to the main characters before pairing them off for various narrative adventures.
At the center of the story is Taehee, the main character, who is secretly dating Kiwoo, a young man still gathering courage to express his feelings for her. Meanwhile, two male characters named Jin and Jee get pulled into the main adventure while trying to prove their bravery, serving as examples of positive, non-toxic masculinity throughout the story.
Hyun Sook, the protagonist from the first "Banned Book Club" novel and author Kim Hyun Sook's fictional counterpart, appears alongside Song covered in paint while fleeing from police. The real-life author's husband and collaborator, Ryan Estrada, makes a cameo appearance in the book's epilogue, which is set in present-day Korea.
The most emotionally compelling storyline follows Suji, a lesbian, and Manhee, a transgender man, whose secret relationship faces an uncertain future. The authors draw a powerful parallel between the harmful practice of deadnaming transgender individuals and the colonial Japanese policy from 1910 to 1945 that forced all Koreans to adopt Japanese names. "These stories were important to us to include in the books to show that people still struggle for freedom and equality today," Estrada explained in an earlier interview with The Korea Times.
An intriguing character named Ashley, an American student, provides a unique perspective on Korea-U.S. relations during the Chun Doo-hwan era. The Korean characters treat her with caution, as their distrust of the dictatorial regime extends to the United States due to its support of the anti-democratic government. Ashley's role becomes more complex when the story reveals she is actually a Korean adoptee returning to her homeland, albeit reluctantly.
The plot brings all these characters together as students at the fictional Anjeon University. When Taehee's parents pressure her to recruit performers for a Daeboreum celebration—marking the first full moon of the Lunar New Year—the story shifts to a small, dying village inhabited only by four elderly widows.
These four women, each portrayed with rich inner lives and distinct personalities, need assistance performing a ritual sacrifice. The authors deliberately keep the details vague and potentially ominous at first, building suspense that unfolds gradually as the plot progresses. Readers unfamiliar with traditional Daeboreum customs may find the tension particularly heightened, though those familiar with the holiday will recognize the harmless nature of the rituals.
The story reads somewhat like a Scooby-Doo adventure, with promises of ghosts, shapeshifting monsters, and demonic possession that never materialize into actual supernatural threats. One particularly amusing moment of tension occurs when a character takes shelter in a straw hut just as one of the elderly women begins dousing it with lighter fluid as part of the traditional ceremony.
The book's treatment of traditional Korean spirituality offers an interesting contrast to Estrada's previous work, "Occulted," which depicted a girl using banned books to escape a dangerous cult. In "Good Old-Fashioned Korean Spirit," spiritual practices are celebrated as meaningful customs, and supernatural elements serve to help characters process and heal from their hidden traumas.
The climactic sequence walks readers through the actual Daeboreum holiday rituals in such vivid detail that they feel almost like participants themselves. This cathartic experience demonstrates the healing power of community traditions and shared cultural practices, even for characters dealing with political oppression and personal struggles.
While fictionalized, the story clearly draws from authentic experiences and genuine affection for Korean traditions. The authors show particular fondness for both the Daeboreum rituals and the quirky rural village setting. An afterword reveals that the story is based on the real location of Hwamok, a rural area in Gimhae, South Gyeongsang Province.
The book also provides important historical context, setting the events shortly before the 1987 death of Lee Han-yeol, a student protester who was fatally struck in the head by a tear gas canister. This tragic incident became the final catalyst that united Koreans against the authoritarian regime, leading to its eventual collapse and the establishment of democratic elections.
"Good Old-Fashioned Korean Spirit" succeeds because it transforms these historical events and the broader struggle for democracy into deeply personal stories. This personal approach may explain why the book's content has been so troubling to those supporting book bans in the United States. According to Estrada, this volume represents the final installment in the trilogy, bringing the series to a close with its release by Penguin Workshop on October 7th.
