Almond

Almond.

5/5 Stars

It was late in the evening, and the world was much quieter than usual. If my thoughts were played out loud, everyone would be able to hear them from miles away. Tonight, Common Ground Cafe was holding a Silent Book Club—just you, a book, and matcha to soothe your soul. Given it was only for a few hours, I chose a short but intriguing book. This book is called Almond by Sohn Won-Pyung.

The first sip of my iced matcha, and part one begins. Our main character, Yunjae, has a condition called alexithymia, which prevents the brain from feeling fear, love, or anger. Through his words, we encounter reenactments of his life, a mere glimpse into what it was like growing up with his condition. The first instance. The whispers. The looks—looks that would mentally set you back three miles. Yet Yunjae doesn't move or blink. He continues forward with a straight face. He continually perseveres, and yet I pause. Yunjae had told a shopkeeper that a young boy was being beaten to death. Yunjae's stoic expression didn't give an inch of panic; his words fell on deaf ears. Therefore, the older man refused to believe him. As fate would have it, that beaten boy was the shopkeeper's son. How ironic that the older man didn't so much as bat an eye when it came to a dying young boy. It was only when the shopkeeper found out it was his son that panic and grief set in. Thus, immoral blame sets in, hanging Yunjae and his condition out to dry. Just like the shopkeeper's boy, whose life hangs in the balance.

A quarter of my matcha down, and I'm gripping my book with panic and an unwell feeling settling in my stomach. My gut is twisting and turning— something is not quite right. I could point fingers at my lactose intolerance, but I have a feeling this book is going to send me into a spiral. As the story progresses, Yunjae speaks about his years growing up alongside his grandmother and mom. We get to build a bond with the three of them, view how their dynamic worked, and witness how Yunjae’s lessons of "emotion". As heartwarming a notion as it is, his mother and grandmother showered him with love, and yet Yunjae still cannot comprehend the warmth.

My glass is now half full, or half empty, depending on how you view things. I feel a dark shadow creeping up my back, like an old enemy sneaking up from behind my shoulders. Rather than greeting the feeling like an old friend, I was frankly smacked with a ton of bricks. Christmas Day is Yunjae’s birthday. The ideal night, the warmth of comfort food to be enjoyed as a happy little family. Just him, his mother, and his loving grandma. It’s striking how quickly things can switch, from mindlessly skipping away through the neighborhood without a care in the world, and all of a sudden reality hits, and one person’s sadness becomes another person’s tragedy. Yunjae witnesses a violent attack on the only two people who cared for him. Yet, Yunjae is without his most innate, raw… human reactions. He couldn't cry, panic, or wail in sadness; but my heart cried for him. What Yunjae couldn’t feel was projected all onto me, everything. Every memory, heartbreak, and despair that he lost in one night.

3/4 of my matcha and I'm in disbelief. For any other person, they'd spiral and be consumed by grief. But with Yunjae, he sits there quietly, while the chaos swirls around him. His condition is a double-edged sword. With the cards Yunjae was dealt, he’ll maintain sanity, but I’ll grieve the heartache, as he’ll never process the tragedy that is his new reality. For that, I'm emotionally tied to this book.

How many sips have I taken? My matcha is running low, and I'm already regretting drinking this much so fast. Life moves on, and so does Yunjae. He pursued his mom's wish to finish school, not draw attention, say his thank-yous, and take his daily dose of almonds. Quiet progress until he meets a broken, complicated, anger-driven boy. Their relationship to me is described as quaint, organized chaos. Gon is aggressive and misunderstood; Yunjae keeps up with him. In a way, his condition standardizes him; it unconsciously builds their friendship from the ground up. Yunjae, bit by bit, begins to feel. Whether it's an engraining of care, worries over his newfound friendship with Gon, or the introduction of a so-called powerful emotion called love from a girl. Yunjae slowly changes and grows without even noticing it. He no longer lives life in one note; as he builds his melody of connections, his world has become harmonious.

4/4 of what's left of my matcha, I can start to taste the earthy grits, and I'm at the climax. Yunjae breaks out of his shell and saves what's left of Gon's soul. He puts his body between Gon and an assailant. Ultimately, saving Gon from a life of tragedy. From there, his life finally finds peace, Gon gets the help he needs, his mother comes out of the coma, and Yunjae is no longer that stoic monster. He’ll feel all the emotions like the average person; One by one, one almond at a time.

What remains of my matcha is a cup of semi-melted ice, and alongside was two hours of my time and a completed story. The novel itself was fast-paced but ironically held so much raw emotion. Although some might say it's rushed, it said everything that needed to be heard. This story taught me many things, like how complex emotions could be. There were times when I felt the words had taken over, crushed my emotions, and I wanted to cry my eyes out. However, a group of people would not appreciate a random girl creating a lake of tears in the middle of a coffee shop. For such a rare occurrence, I’d blame the strong flavors of that matcha.

I'd recommend this book to others who want a quick read with an impact that will punch you in the gut, in a good way. Before you get this book, because I know you will, I'd find a corner with a box of tissues at the ready and something iced, like a matcha… Unless you like greeting people with a puddle of tears, that is. The minute one steps into Yunjae’s world, they’ll feel all the emotions, and before you know it, you’ve read the previous page four times over.

Favorite Quotes

“Even though my brain was a mess, what kept my soul whole was the warmth of the hands holding mine on both sides”

“She always called me a monster. To her, that wasn’t a bad thing”