South Korean author Han Kang has made history as the first writer from her country to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature. At 53 years old, she was awarded the prestigious prize in 2024. In her works, she has often reflected on profound personal experiences, including the tragic loss of her sister, who died just two hours after birth. Han once shared that if her sister had lived, she might never have been born. She also opened up about suffering from severe migraines since the age of 14, stating, “If I were 100% healthy, I wouldn’t be able to be a writer.”
Media sources report that in her novel “White,” Han constructs a character referred to as “that woman,” representing her imagined sister who survived and grew up. Han has expressed that her parents never truly moved on from the loss of their first daughter, and it was this tragedy that led to her own birth. Therefore, she feels compelled to “lend her life” to her sister through her writing.
In “White,” Han narrates the harrowing account of her mother giving birth to her sister at just 23 years old, unprepared and alone. As her water broke, her mother had to crawl to the kitchen to boil water and sterilize scissors, sewing together a makeshift baby outfit before delivering the newborn on her own. “It was a baby girl with a face as pale as a half-moon cake. Though born prematurely at eight months and very small, her eyes, nose, and mouth were distinctly beautiful,” she writes.
Holding her premature child, her mother repeatedly pleaded, “Please don’t die,” but just two hours later, that little girl closed her eyes forever. Following her sister’s death, their mother would give birth to another son who also did not survive, and then came Han. The poignant reality is that if her siblings had lived, Han believes her parents would not have had her. In her writing, she tells her sister, “If you had lived, I would not be here today. And if I am here, you should not exist.”
In Han’s narrative, the ghostly presence of her sister looms large. In the “Author’s Note” at the end of “White,” she describes a person “who, though shattered, resiliently rebuilds.” Upon realizing that this person was her sister, she felt that only by lending her life and body could she bring “that woman” to life, prompting her to pen this book.
She articulates her desire to “lend my life to my sister, to the baby, to that woman. To ensure that woman flows with warm blood inside her body, I must constantly touch the reality that we live with warm bodies in every moment.”
Apart from the influence of her sister, Han has also felt the profound impact of her chronic pain, which has shaped her understanding of what it means to be alive. Since her teenage years, she has dealt with debilitating migraines, describing each moment of pain as time trickling away like beads created from a razor blade. “With every breath, I am acutely aware of my existence,” she notes.
Despite the challenges of living with migraines, Han shared in interviews that, “My migraines always remind me that I am human. When pain strikes, I must stop everything—my work, reading, and daily life. It humbles me, making me acutely aware of my own weakness. Perhaps if I were 100% healthy and full of energy, I wouldn’t be able to write.”
It was at the age of 14, when her migraines became more pronounced, that Han decided to pursue writing. “I have always been searching for answers to fundamental questions. As a reader, I realized that every writer seeks answers without finding any conclusions, yet they continue to write. So I thought, why not do the same?” she said.
Han also revealed that her father is a novelist, which filled their home with books. Among her favorite authors are South Korean writer Lim Chul-woo and Russian literary giant Fyodor Dostoevsky.
