Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press [distributed by University of Chicago Press], 2023. US$28.00, paper. ISBN 9789888754205.
As Dal Yong Jin writes on the book cover, this is “one of the most awaited books in Hallyu studies” that “not only provides captivating and much-needed discussions but also critically expands the current debates in gender studies, feminism studies, and fan studies.” The editors begin the introduction with the statement that this edited volume “pushes aside the male centeredness of the Korean Wave and focuses on the femininities that are birthed from popular Korean cultural productions” (2). Considering that the Korean Wave has been closely identified with a primarily female consumer culture, it is indeed surprising that the complexity of the lived experiences and practices of women as both creators and consumers of the Korean Wave has not been further investigated within the growing field of Hallyu studies. This volume is therefore a timely and welcome addition that, as claimed, sits at the scholarly intersection of gender studies, media studies, and fandom studies.
The volume is remarkably ambitious in bringing together a cohort of international thinkers on a wide range of topics: from the tomboy trope in K-drama to the image of “ssen-unni” (strong sisters) in K-pop girl groups, from the role of social media platforms in the “celebrification” of new K-pop idols to the marketing tactic of K-pop idols presenting homoerotic moments on reality TV called “business gay performance,” and from a North Korean girl group—or rather what the author teases as “NK-pop”—to K-pop fan clubs’ financing of political protests in Thailand. Together, the volume unquestionably fulfills its aim to present new frameworks for understanding the femininities circulating among Korean Wave stars and their fans.
The wide spectrum of topics is structured into three parts: “Part I: Characters We Love,” “Part II: More Than Girl Groups,” and “Part III: Fans and Fan-Producers.” In some sense, these three sections are better summarized by the three nouns used in the introduction to describe the book’s contents: the “representations, impacts, and outcomes of femininities with the Korean Wave” (7). Indeed, the three chapters of part I explore representations of femininities as seen through female-identifying lead characters in K-dramas. Here, Maud Lavin’s relational comparison of Korean and US viewers’ different perceptions of the hetero-tomboy trope in the K-drama First Shop of Coffee Prince is particularly insightful in illuminating the complexity of reception, while SooJin Lee’s chapter, “Miss Kim: God of the Workplace,” is an engaging analysis of one character as a strategic fictionalization of theories like Donna Haraway’s notion of the postfeminist cyborg.
Part II and part III lay more emphasis on the impact and outcomes that fan interactions have on the femininities seen in the Korean Wave. Jin Lee and Crystal Abidin’s chapter on Ella Gross is informative in exposing the ways that a star narrative is formed today, not only through “buzz marketing” and other tactics utilized by official talent agencies, but also through the active participation of fans, whose comments and cross-postings across various social media platforms crucially contribute to the “celebrification” of rising stars. Investigating a similar line of impact, Stephanie Jiyun Choi’s chapter on bigepeo (short for “business gay performance”)—the tacit marketing tactic used in the K-pop business where idols intentionally present homoerotic moments on reality TV shows to cater to fans’ RPS (“real person slash”) fantasy, where an alternative universe of same-sex relationships between media personalities is imagined in memes, social media content, fan art, and fanfics—is extremely fascinating to read and hints at an unspoken loop of feedback from fans quietly affecting the industry’s workings.
Going beyond Korean borders, Gi Yeon Koo’s chapter surveys the growing impact of K-pop and K-drama fandom in Iran, while Liew Kai Khiun, Malinee Khumpsupa, and Atchareeya Saisin’s chapter explores the crucial role that fans play across Southeast Asia as not only “performers” and “promotors,” but also as “protesters”—at least in the case of Thailand, where a younger generation of K-pop fans engage in Thai politics by financing protests and appropriating K-pop cover dances during demonstrations. Perhaps most surprising is Douglas Gabriel’s chapter on the North Korean group called Moranbong, which is enlightening as to the ways in which music and fandom persist even in the most unexpected realms, in this case North Korean propagandist music. Particularly intriguing to read were the ways in which twenty-something Japanese fans of the North Korean troupe are engaging in typical fan posts on social media: the medium may be latte art, but instead of the face of an idol, the grinning face of Kim Jong-un is imprinted on the coffee.
Although the limited scope of this review does not allow for a detailed discussion of all ten chapters, the volume can be summarized, as claimed, as “playful, intersectional, and accessible” (7). Much of this playfulness and accessibility rises from the fact that the book is a scholarly endeavour written from the perspective of fans. This approach to scholarship—from the standpoint of one’s own “fangirl” position—is one that certainly will be of interest to students. In fact, I believe some chapters will act as models for younger researchers of culture. For example, Jieun Lee and Hyangsoon Yi’s chapter on the ongoing image of a strong female (“strong sisters” or ssen-unni in Korean) in K-pop stage performances is exemplary of how even just the visuals of a K-pop phenomenon can be highly informative when analyzed and contextualized properly within the country’s social history, musical genealogy, and ongoing gender discourses. Equally helpful to students will be the introduction, which, albeit short, offers a list of literature on the Korean wave to date. Maud Lavin’s casual tone, which goes back and forth between theoretical ruminations to subjective observations as a fan, was especially refreshing to me, as my own scholarship also often stems from my consumer identity as a fan. Lavin’s writing will no doubt also act as an inspiration to students interested in translating their screen interests into academic projects.
While I was left wishing for more chapters providing textual analysis of the femininities that we absorb as viewers, an edited volume cannot cover all topics and what it lacks in depth, it makes up for in diversity. Therefore, I end the review with this quote from the introduction, which pinpoints the core essence of not only this book, but also most academics and readers of Hallyu studies: “We are K-pop and K-drama fans, we are queer, we are international, we are academics of Asian histories, sociology, gender and sexuality, art history, and visual culture” (7).
Ji-yoon An
The University of British Columbia, Vancouver