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En su tercera novela el escritor coreano-americano Chang-rae Lee (1965) presenta uno de esos personajes elusivos, extranjeros de sí mismos y del mundo que los rodea, que ya comparecían en sus narraciones previas. El espía desconcertado en medio del diario ejercicio de simulación que protagonizaba su aclamado debut En lengua materna , al igual que aquel anciano emigrante japonés que escondía detrás de una fachada circunspecta un pasado de oprobio y restallante horror en la magnífica Una vida de gestos , ya prefiguraban a Jerry Battle, un casi sesentón que sobrevuela su vida encaramado en una avioneta, reacio a asomarse a los paisajes de dolor que la circundan.

20 minutes / May 03, 2013

June Han est encore une enfant lorsque la guerre de Corée décime sa famille. Sauvée par un G.I., Hector Brennan, elle est placée dans un orphelinat.   Trente ans plus tard, l'ancien soldat a choisi une vie sans contours, guidée par l'alcool et l'autodestruction. June est devenue Mrs Singer, une femme de 47 ans qui mène une carrière exemplaire à New York. Mais derrière cette réussite, June est surtout une mère inquiète. Depuis la mort de son mari, ses relations avec son fils, Nicholas, ne sont plus les mêmes. Le jour de sa remise de diplôme, le jeune homme choisit de partir en Europe pour un long voyage. Décidée à retrouver son fils, June demande à Hector de l'aider. Ensemble, ils vont remonter les méandres de la mémoire.

L'EXPRESS / May 01, 2005

Fils d'un psychiatre nord-coréen, Chang-rae Lee est né en 1965 en Corée du Sud où s'étaient réfugiés ses parents. Il a trois ans quand sa famille émigre aux Etats-Unis. Après de brillantes études à Yale, il devient analyste financier et, à la mort de sa mère, suit des ateliers d'écriture pour se consacrer à la littérature. Il vit à Ridgewood (New Jersey).

list_Books from Korea / September 01, 2014

Writers Transcend Diaspora By Kim Jonghoi on Oct 30 2014 18:46:59 Vol.25 Autumn 2014While there is no shortage of expressions that reflect this new era of globalization, the world as one global village, one word has become imperative when discussing the current state of the Korean people. Diaspora, a term derived from the Greek meaning “scattering” or “dispersion,” is most notably used in reference to the Jews who were forced to live outside their homeland for most of Jewish history, while retaining their ethnic identity and religious practices.The nature and scope of the diaspora, however, is similar to what has happened to the Korean people since the late 19th century, many of whom left their homeland to survive the turbulent history of modern Korea: the forced occupation of the Korean peninsula by Imperial Japan and the subsequent Korean War that divided the nation into the South and the North. The Korean diaspora includes the ethnic Koreans who moved to China and the Soviet Union in search of a better life; to Japan, drafted into the military but unable to return; and later as exported labor to the United States.

StarTribune / February 05, 2021

Korean American author Chang-rae Lee has played with a rich gamut of forms and characters to probe themes of East vs. West and consumerism run amok, most recently in his dystopian "On Such a Full Sea" (2014). His rangy, propulsive new novel, "My Year Abroad," expands on these preoccupations by embracing dark comedy in the manner of Gary Shteyngart and George Saunders.

The New York Times / February 05, 2021

I can’t say exactly where much of Chang-rae Lee’s newest novel, “My Year Abroad,” is set, because the narrator, Tiller Bardmon, can’t tell us either. Ad hoc consort and au pair to a 30-something woman we know only as Val, Tiller lives with her and her young son, Victor Jr., in a smallish American suburb he calls “Stagno.” Val and VeeJ, as the boy is nicknamed, are in a witness protection program because of her disappeared husband’s “dealings with a gang of New Jersey-based Tashkentians that involved Mongolian mineral rights, faux sturgeon eggs and very real shoulder-mounted rocket launchers.” Tiller met her in a Hong Kong airport as he was escaping what was perhaps the biggest mistake of his life, and we soon learn that Val was doing much the same.

esquire / March 19, 2021

Published in 1995, Lee’s searing debut novel about an Asian American man walking a tightrope between two cultures remains as relevant as ever.

Post Magazine / February 06, 2021

Chang-rae Lee’s latest novel, My Year Abroad, is part-bildungsroman and part-shaggy dog story, a great big novel overflowing with eating, multilingual phrases (including Mandarin, Korean, even Yiddish), the finer points of fast food and high-cuisine, references to German and Japanese knife-making, boating, etymology, more eating, surfing, pop psych, mall architecture, Chinese environmental regulation, scuba diving, drugs, dog sledding and still more eating. (For a true sense, please repeat the following quote between each review paragraph as a chorus:)“[M]orsels of deep-fried rabbit drown­ing in chili peppers, ribbons of beef tendon in a sweet, spicy sauce, and handmade noodles with pork and pickled cabbage, sautéed bitter melon, and gooey little tenders of braised eggplant …”

Entertainment Weekly / September 16, 2020

Chang-rae Lee has written the novel that Americans, stationary as we are while marooned within the country, will be clamoring for. His next book, My Year Abroad, follows a young American who takes up with a Chinese American businessmen in a mentorship made for these times. Tiller, a college student, joins Pong Lou on a seemingly never-ending trip across Asia. One year later, he meets an older woman and her son in an airport and plunges himself into their lives. The novel alternates between the two story lines, with a humorous and thought-provoking exploration of global culture.

The Seattle Times / January 26, 2021

Book review The latest novel from Pulitzer Prize finalist Chang-rae Lee (“Native Speaker,” “The Surrendered”) seems at first as though it’s going to be a rowdy rollick. Its prose is jazzy and jokey. Its plot immediately takes preposterous twists and turns. Unfortunately, “My Year Abroad” grows simultaneously sillier and duller the longer it goes on. Extravagant flights of fancy outstay their welcome, and irrelevant flashbacks sometimes stop the narrative in its tracks. The novel has its moments, especially in its first 100 pages. But it’s never a good sign when you finish a book wondering what on earth the author was trying to accomplish. Twenty-year-old narrator Tiller Bardmon is, in his own words, “an amenable boy” recently “smashed to raw bits by circumstances too peculiar to recount.” In the wake of his dreadful year abroad, Tiller has shacked up with Val, a single mother who has “a lot of years on me.” Serving as de facto stepdad to Val’s 8-year-old son, Victor Jr., Tiller is able to contribute to household expenses thanks to an ATM card tied to a bank account that seemingly never runs out of funds.