The Island of Sea Women – Lisa See
Set on the Korean island of Jeju, “The Island of Sea Women” traces the decades-long bond between Mi-ja and Young-sook, two girls from vastly different backgrounds who grow up diving together as part of their village’s all-female haenyeo collective.
Spanning from Japanese colonial rule through the Korean War and into modernity, the novel explores friendship, betrayal and survival within a matrifocal society rarely seen in Western fiction.
Before this, I had never heard of Jeju Island or its haenyeo divers — women who harvest sea creatures like abalone and sea urchins from the ocean floor to support their families, while the men stay home with the children.
Lisa See paints a vivid portrait of this fading tradition, showing us a society where women are the breadwinners, the leaders and the decision-makers, but still remain tethered to patriarchal customs like land inheritance and ancestor worship. It's a fascinating cultural study that offers an unexpected inversion of gender roles.
The story opens in 2008 and quickly flashes back to 1938, unfolding chronologically through key events in 20th-century Korean history. The historical backdrop is meticulously researched, touching on the Japanese occupation, the American military presence after World War II and the ideological division of the Korean peninsula. I especially appreciated the insight into Korea’s post-liberation political tensions, which was one of the main reasons I picked up this novel in the first place.
But while the history is rich, the fiction itself doesn’t always live up to it.
Each chapter jumps forward a year or two, which left me feeling emotionally detached from the characters. We’re told what happens, but rarely do we feel it. I never quite connected with Mi-ja or Young-sook the way I wanted to, and the supporting characters remain thin.
I suspect this is where the historical material overwhelmed the narrative structure. See clearly did her homework, but the story often feels like it was built to support the research, rather than the other way around.
There are moments that stand out. The depiction of the Bukchon massacre — where Young-sook loses her husband, son and sister-in-law while Mi-ja watches but doesn’t intervene — is heartbreaking and raw. It’s the one section where historical fact and emotional weight align perfectly, and I felt fully immersed in the horror of what she endured.
Thematically, it hits the familiar beats of historical women’s fiction: two best friends as close as sisters, societal constraints, personal sacrifice and the push-pull of tradition and independence. There's even a subtle queer subtext between Mi-ja and Young-sook that I hoped See would’ve explored further.
Still, some plot turns feel convenient, and regularly using diving accidents to move the story forward — while historically accurate — started to feel like a crutch. The last few chapters attempt to tie everything together, but the resolution feels rushed and slightly anti-climactic.
In other words: stay for the history, but don’t expect too much from the fiction.
As for the audiobook, Jennifer Lim’s narration is solid, though a bit overdramatic at normal speed. I found that listening at 1.65x gave it a better rhythm and tone. This might be one that reads better than it listens.
Rating (story): 3/5 stars
Rating (narration): 3/5 stars
Format: Audiobook (library loan)
Dates read: July 6 – July 11, 2025
Multi-tasking: Good to go, but it takes a few chapters to find your footing. Western readers may struggle at first with unfamiliar Korean names, so I’d recommend jotting down key details for each character, especially since even minor figures reappear regularly throughout the story.
