I went into Counterattacks at Thirty with pretty high hopes. I haven’t actually read Almond, Sohn Won-pyung’s breakout novel, but I’ve heard amazing things, so when I spotted this coming out, I figured it would be right up my street. A story about a woman at a dead-end job who starts fighting back in small, strange ways? Sign me up. And while I liked it – I didn’t love it as much as I hoped I would. This was a quieter, more thoughtful read, with some clever character work and social commentary that lingered long after I finished. But it wasn’t a knock-your-socks-off five star moment.
Things I Liked:
- Jihye’s deadpan, deeply relatable voice: Kim Jihye is the kind of character who could easily fade into the background, and that’s the point. She’s thirty, single, stuck in a soulless internship at a corporate academy, and has a name so common it feels like an existential joke. But Sohn gives her this wry, dry wit that had me smiling.
- The “Counterattacks” are as weird as they are wonderful: Jihye and her misfit crew (including a retired chef and a chaotic philosophy bro) start fighting back against the injustices in their lives – in the pettiest and most creative ways. Think eggs thrown at corrupt politicians, stolen tteokbokki recipes, and one excellently executed imaginary boyfriend. They’re tiny, often silly acts of defiance, but that’s what makes them feel so good.
- It captures the quiet despair of being ordinary: This book isn’t about big transformation arcs. It’s about those of us who feel invisible, who work hard, follow the rules, and still end up left behind. There’s something powerful in the way Sohn shows Jihye navigating that with both resignation and rebellion. And the translator’s afterword adds some lovely cultural insight into why these characters feel the way they do.
My Thoughts:
There were many moments in Counterattacks at Thirty that really hit – especially the emotional undercurrent of trying to reclaim agency when life feels like it’s just happening at you. The satire of corporate life and social hierarchy is sharp, but I did feel the pacing was slow and I didn’t feel as connected to the characters as I wanted to. It’s a book that’s clever, but sometimes at the expense of feeling. Still, I kept turning the pages because I was curious to see how things would end up.
Would I Recommend It?
If you’re in the mood for something thoughtful, a little offbeat, and quietly empowering, then yes. If you’re after a fast-paced or highly emotional read, this might not be it. But if you’ve ever felt stuck, overlooked, or like you’re holding back a scream in a staff meeting…this one might just be the nudge you need to throw your own (metaphorical) egg.
Books With Megz 