A series of vignettes, 
Reviewer: A reader
This book is noteworthy because it is one of the few books "about" Korea that is not written in a "fortune-cookie fiction" mode; the passages are lyrical, fluid, and evocative. She writes more like James Joyce describing a Dublin childhood rather than a "this-is-how-we-do-it-in-Korean" cultural guidebook. No broken-English, Charlie Chan aphorisms here.

Yun describes life in Korea in the '50's and '60's in a series of vignettes; there isn't a single, linear plot that unfolds, but a series of "snapshots" taken from the author's memory (or so I presume). There is a definite sense of loss and mourning as well as nostalgia for the past now that the writer is in America; a sense that she wishes to recover the past by looking back across that chasm one takes once one crosses over to another land. In a sense, you never go back. "Preserve your memories," she says. The real kicker in the story is at the end, when the narrator, in America, recounts her mother's life in very sad, beautiful hues and tones.

For anyone who would like to take a retrospective look back at a time and place in Korea that is slowly fading from the memories of the still-living, this is a good place to start.

Wonderful story of a Korean childhood, 

I am a Korean-American woman and an avid fan of fiction books written about Asian history. After tirelessly waiting for Amy Tan to write a new book, I ventured on and picked up this one on a whim on my honeymoon in Maui. I really loved the picturesque writing. It makes me wonder what the scenery that my parents must have grew up in may have looked like. This novel is not only a wonderful story, but a great history lesson.