E. J. Koh

A tale of deep bonds to family, place, language--of hard-won selfhood told by a singular, incandescent voice.

A Memoir

The Magical Language of Others

“Now that you’re older, I have somebody to talk to. I’ve been waiting forever. I’ll tell you everything about my life. When you have a daughter, you’ll think of men and say that’s how it must’ve felt then. But you don’t have to forgive me because you are my daughter. You don’t have to do anything for me, okay? I was born to do everything for you.” 

“But one night, a man tossed a remark at her. Right there, my father brawled with him and nearly died when the man broke a beer bottle and stabbed my father in the throat, barely missing the jugular. The man had two friends with him. Both joined in the beating of my father. My mother called her brothers to rescue him. After that day, they got married. I was my father’s daughter because there was in me, other than my face, this love for my mother.” 

“Lee knew that she loved the city, but he could not be with the children by himself. They belonged to her—not him. He was only their father, who could not love them as he used to or wanted to.” 

Is to live with kids to suffer? My mom mentioned to me that having children who don’t give back to them is a waste 

“Jun could not die because she had children, everybody knew.” 

But to ask children to raise themselves feels too cruel 

“If you have no suffering, you have no story to tell—isn’t it true?” 

cee 

Neither happiness nor sadness are ever done with us.

zee ✨️

I can’t tell you too much about this book besides that it’s something I needed in this moment for different issues in my life now. 

A tale of deep bonds to family, place, language—of hard-won selfhood told by a singular, incandescent voice. The Magical Language of Others is a powerful and aching love story in letters, from mother to daughter. After living in America for over a decade, Eun Ji Koh’s parents return to South Korea for work, leaving fifteen-year-old Eun Ji and her brother behind in California. Overnight, Eun Ji finds herself abandoned and adrift in a world made strange by her mother’s absence. Her mother writes letters, in Korean, over the years seeking forgiveness and love—letters Eun Ji cannot fully understand until she finds them years later hidden in a box. As Eun Ji translates the letters, she looks to history—her grandmother Jun’s years as a lovesick wife in Daejeon, the horrors her grandmother Kumiko witnessed during the Jeju Island Massacre—and to poetry, as well as her own lived experience to answer questions inside all of us. Where do the stories of our mothers and grandmothers end and ours begin? How do we find words—in Korean, Japanese, English, or any language—to articulate the profound ways that distance can shape love? Eun Ji Koh fearlessly grapples with forgiveness, reconciliation, legacy, and intergenerational trauma, arriving at insights that are essential reading for anyone who has ever had to balance love, longing, heartbreak, and joy. The Magical Language of Others weaves a profound tale of hard-won selfhood and our deep bonds to family, place, and language, introducing—in Eun Ji Koh—a singular, incandescent voice.

The Magical Language of Others: A Memoir

Kimberly Gajitos

Wow. Was teary eyed on the train as soon as I reached the end of the book. Truly heartwarming.

azliana aziz

beautiful without being extra verbose. i mean she could have been flexing her poet's background here and no one would bat an eye but clearly the deftness in navigating the language of selves to capture the multi generational tales is well accomplished and much envied.

this is a fluid, carefully curated tapestry of painful memories, small breakthrough moments, and the fleeting impressions of poetry. the heart of this book beats with a dull ache.

charisa

Ivy X

so much to unpack in this book, beautiful writing

heather

"Neither (happiness) nor sadness are ever done with us. They are always passing by."

Cindy Lieberman

E. J.’s parents left her at age 15 with her 18 year-old brother in California and moved to Korea for her father to accept a coveted job. Ms Koh has turned her pain into something special. Letters from her mother are interspersed with Koh’s recounting of her struggles in school, her occasional visits to Korea, her trying to find her way.

Janet Doré

I'm sure I wouldn't have found this book had I not won it in a Goodreads Giveaway. I'm thankful I did. As a mother, the story was particularly touching to me—and a tiny bit close to home. 

When the author was 14 and living in California, her mother and father moved back to Korea for a higher paying job, leaving her with her not-yet-twenty year old brother. They would not return for seven years, leaving her to finish raising herself alone. 

Every other chapter is a letter (translated from Korean) from mom to daughter; the chapter that follows is about some pivotal time in the author's life. 

It was a bit of a challenging read as it lacked a continuous flow, while at the same time moving quickly. Having a son who is a poet, I particularly liked the parts that gave insight into the soul of poets. My favorite line in the book, and one that will never leave me, was when the author's mother tells her friends what her daughter does for a living—"My daughter teaches people to let go." Now, I understand my son a little bit more.

The Magical Language of Others A Memoir

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