In this Korean bestseller, police detective Suyeon is called to the scene of the fourth suicide of an elderly patient at a crumbling hospital in a deserted part of Incheon. Her boss believes the deaths, spurred perhaps by pervasive depression and loneliness, are coincidental and sees no point in investigating further, especially since their families had abandoned the dead. But Suyeon thinks something is off. All four victims, who suffered from dementia, jumped from the hospital’s sixth floor, but very little blood was found at the spots where they landed. Returning to the hospital later that evening, Suyeon encounters a mysterious Korean-French woman named Violette, who tells her, “A vampire did it.” A skeptical Suyeon angrily dismisses Violette until the autopsy of a fifth suicide reveals two puncture holes in the victim’s neck and the body drained of blood. Claiming to be a vampire hunter, Violette explains to Suyeon that someone at the hospital is helping a vampire target his next victims. As Suyeon seeks to identify that particular nurse, the narrative shifts back to 1983 France, when a teenage Violette, adopted by loving French parents but feeling isolated and lonely because of her Koreanness, begins a strange, intense, almost Sapphic friendship with the enigmatic, barefooted Lily. Skillfully translated (but a glossary of Korean terms would have been helpful), Cheon’s novel is more than a queer paranormal mystery (the inconsistent vampire elements are its weakest parts); instead, it’s an eerie and bleak portrait of societal loneliness, isolation, and marginalization.
The Midnight Shift
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