Kim Ryeo-ryeong’s The Trunk sets up a fascinating scenario: in a world where short-term, no-strings-attached marriage contracts are brokered by an agency, we meet Noh Inji, who has taken part in multiple “field spouse” arrangements. The premise appears ripe for incisive social commentary and a deeper look at Korea’s shifting attitudes toward matrimony, yet the narrative’s momentum never quite matches the potential of its concept.

From the start, the novel hints at intrigue—a former client unexpectedly seeks to rehire Inji, revealing hidden layers of power and moral ambiguity at the agency. This twist could have propelled the plot toward something more dramatic or suspenseful, but the tension remains subdued. Inji herself is an intriguing character at the outset: jaded by previous experiences, somewhat detached from her own emotional state, and keenly aware of the transactional nature of her work. However, her insights often feel repetitive, and the story circles around similar points without pushing them further.

While there are moments that offer a compelling critique of societal expectations—especially regarding marriage, loneliness, and the financial aspects of companionship—the novel settles into a slow, measured pace. Several secondary characters, from a persistent stalker to Inji’s neighbor with her own unconventional relationships, promise extra layers of complexity, yet many of these subplots seem to drift without resolution or deeper exploration.

Readers interested in quiet literary fiction and the cultural dynamics at play in modern South Korea may appreciate the understated approach, but those seeking a narrative arc where conflicts escalate and new revelations intensify will likely feel underwhelmed. The Trunk ultimately left me feeling as though I was waiting for a turning point that never materialized. Despite its unique premise and intermittent flashes of insight, the novel never fully rises to meet its considerable promise.

The Trunk is a novel that is full of twists and turns that are rather surprising at least to me, the novel follows Inji a young woman currently working as a field wife (a temporary wife for a short duration for esteemed clients) for a marriage bureau, which is a rather unusual premise in it's own right.

The Trunk to me at least feels much akin to social commentary on the decline of the relationship globally and perhaps unsurprisingly given the author is Korean the ongoing demographic crisis, what with the critic of a co-worker who is unable to keep a child conceived during a contract marriage because the male client doesn't want a lasting tie, and the strange relationship she has with her current client husband who opts to renew the contract for an additional year despite her not knowing much about what he does for a career or any of his interests, a parallel to Inji's neighbour Granny who appears to be spending money to attract the attention of a product touting toy-boy, and Inji's obsessed stalker.

An interesting decidedly open-ended novel that really does feel like a critique on society today, thank you netgalley & Random House UK for the e-ARC.

"I had been carrying around this big trunk with me, cramming my life into it bit by bit, and it was time for me to throw it away."

Inji has been married five times, but never for love. She's a 'contract wife', working for a secretive company that acts as a matchmaker between clients and 'field husbands and wives'. The marriage, which usually lasts a year, involves sex, housework and whatever else the client requires, though the company will send security if any abuse is involved. No one knows what Inji does – not her family or her closest friends.

When Inji's most recent husband requests to marry her for another year, something strange happens. A man she went on a blind date with becomes obsessed with her and begins to stalk her. When he shows up at her husband's house, the company's security takes him away. But where does he go? When Inji tries to find out, she discovers the dark underbelly of the company.

I wouldn't describe this as a thriller because even though there's a mystery element to it, I didn't really feel any tension. I was intrigued but never really worried for the characters.

I think this book delivers more social commentary than anything else. It is a critique of the expectations that Korean society places on marriage and on women. There is a fascinating movement in South Korea, the 4B movement, in which women are rejecting heterosexual relationships to resist the patriarchal structure of the society they live in. This has resulted in declining birth rates.

In 'The Trunk', marriage is transactional, something that is echoed in real life. In a patriarchal society, women are baby-makers, cleaners, trophies ... In 'The Trunk', field wives at least get paid. In the book, love is the last thing on Inji's jaded mind, though the ending suggests she may at some point change her outlook.

'The Trunk' is certainly thought-provoking and as a reflection of Korean society and the pressures faced by Korean women, it's intriguing. I don't think it's a page-turner but it's certainly worth a read as a work of literature that will help you understand patriarchal structures in Korea.

The Trunk by Kim Ryeo-ryeong is a poignant and thought-provoking novel that delves into the complexities of family dynamics, loss, and identity. The story revolves around a young girl named Soo-yeon, who is forced to confront the emotional aftermath of her mother's death. The trunk, which serves as a central motif throughout the novel, becomes a symbol of both the weight of memories and the desire for closure.

Kim Ryeo-ryeong's writing is tender yet powerful, capturing the internal struggles of her characters with authenticity. The narrative is slow-paced, allowing readers to deeply connect with Soo-yeon's journey as she uncovers hidden truths about her mother and herself. Themes of grief, regret, and self-discovery are explored with subtlety, making the book a deeply emotional experience.

The author’s ability to evoke empathy and understanding through the characters' experiences is remarkable, and the book’s minimalist style enhances its emotional depth. The Trunk ultimately serves as a meditation on the complexity of family relationships, the quiet battles we fight within ourselves, and the resilience of the human spirit. It's a touching and introspective read that lingers long after the final page.

Quite a slow paced story and I struggled at times to keep going but the plot was enough that I was intrigued and had to keep going. I finished this before I watched the Netflix series but can’t work out which I enjoyed more!

i was excited to read this because of gong yoo's netflix series, and i liked both of them a lot! twisty and fun

I tried so hard to finish this, I kept coming back to it as it was such an interesting concept but it just didn’t grip me.

The quirky premise of this novel piqued my interest from the very beginning. The protagonist, Inji, works as a "professional wife" and the novel follows her story as she is requested to marry a music producer for the second time. I liked the pace of the novel and the interactions between the characters, although there were some instances I didn't quite understand. Overall, I enjoyed reading this novel and I also found the translation well done and with a good flow in English.

Noh Inji has a pretty unusual job - she marries someone for a year, shares their life, and then packs up and marries the next client. However, things take a turn when a previous husband sends in a request to marry her again - a request which is honoured.

This book seems to juggle quite a few different themes but I didn’t feel like it really did any of them justice. There a threads on the loneliness epidemic, stalking, troubled family pasts, queerness, and struggles with acceptance but everything just feels….left on a loose end by the end of the book. It almost felt like a curtain was briefly lifted for us to peer into an unconventional life, but it was dropped back down before any real meaning could be gleamed from it.

Unfortunately, I think a lot has been lost in translation here. The writing felt flat, even when quite shocking events were happening. I understand that this book was translated as a group project, and while I commend that as an idea, I feel like the execution may have fallen short.

Thank you to the publishers, and Netgalley, for the copy to review.

I was sent a copy of The Trunk by Kim Ryeo-ryeong to read and review by NetGalley. I am very sorry but I did not finish this book! I got 30% of the way in and I wondered why I was still struggling on. I don’t know if it was the translation from Korean or if the original felt the same, but for me the writing was very flat and uninspiring and there was nothing really happening to keep me interested. I do like ‘slow burners’ which tell just of life, like a snapshot, but the prose of this novel was just too lifeless for me to continue. Apparently the book has been made into a ‘Major Netflix TV series' which hopefully will be rather more interesting than the written form.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publishers for giving me the chance to read this book.

Not one for me I'm afraid. The story lacked any form of thrill or real plot line.

A full review given on Goodreads and linked below

When they say marriage is hell...

Taking one of South Korea's national obsessions, marriage, and as the country has done with pop music, television serials and soft power in general, refining it into a commercial success and a craft, Wedding & Life hires out Field Wives and Husbands to those who can afford it, but who can't get married for real. Noh Inji is a relatively successful Field Wife but as she returns to a previous contract husband, the various layers of her life start to collide and overflow, forcing her to question everything about herself.

With a strong Kishotenketsu plot, The Trunk does a lot of good things but a few questionable ones, including an almost unforgivable case of *spoiler• Kill Your Gays. An opaque novel with, as the plot style promises, an eleventh hour twist that sends the story into a whole other direction, The Trunk expects a lot of the reader to understand South Korean culture with some rare anachronisms. I'm interested to see what the Netflix adaptation does for the characters and the high concept.

I had high hopes for this book for the first 15% of the book but then I thought it lost it's way slightly and the plot was not consistent enough for me to keep my interest as it had done at the beginning.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the chance to read this ARC.

I started reading this because I enjoyed the Korean drama The Trunk. I liked the book but it is quite different from the drama. I wished that the novel went deeper into the emotional aspects (the drama is intense). But I liked reading about the same world in two different ways, through the eyes of the writer and the Kdrama creator.

DNF, I absolutely love the concept of this but I just didn't feel like I was clicking with it personally

I was excited by this book and read it extremely quickly. It’s definitely a title I’d love to have conversations about as the concept is so interesting and the process of writing must have been an intriguing and unique one. Lots to unpack in the themes and the concerns of this book!

The Trunk is an interesting and unusual book, and the first Korean novel I have read. I started out knowing nothing of Korean culture or literature, which definitely put me at a disadvantage. The story is told from the point of view of Inji, who works for the secretive division of a matchmaking agency that facilitates short-term marriage contracts for wealthy clients on payment of a high annual subscription. Each contract usually lasts a year, and employees have the right to refuse, but three refusals will result in dismissal from the agency. As Inji has already refused two, she has no choice when a former ‘husband’ requests her again.
The main idea of the marriage contracts was intriguing but not explored in enough depth, as there were too many other plot strands introduced but not taken to a satisfying conclusion. Part of the problem is the clunky translation. It was apparently a collaborative exercise undertaken by a group of Australian students, rather than a commission for publication, and I think it shows. It paints a fascinating picture of contemporary Korean society (it was originally published in 2015) but I have nothing to compare it to. The characters are well drawn, though it is difficult to empathise with Inji, and the humour is dark, but the ending is abrupt and made no sense. Unusually for me, I preferred the Netflix series which took the book and adapted it for TV. Overall, I think the writer tried to cover too many themes, but none of them as comprehensively as I would have liked. I enjoyed this introduction to Korean literature, and would be interested in reading more. Thanks to Doubleday and NetGalley for a digital copy to review.

I think whoever wrote the blurb needs to actually read the book... This wasn't a thriller. It is a satire, but not a thriller and they're going to get the wrong audience for this! I still enjoyed it, and I really liked Inji's voice and the exploration of NM as a concept, but it wasn't at all what I was expecting.

I adore translated fiction and I so glad it's becoming more readily available every year. Unfortunately it does mean that the stuff coming out of other countries is more of a mixture of good bad and ugly.

I liked the concept of this book but the execution left much to be desired, many different elements going on from being a single person,to female friendships, to stalking behavior. Unfortunately all of these became muddled, taking away my enjoyment completely.

A Quiet Exploration of Marriage in South Korea

The Trunk by Kim Ryeo-ryeong is an unusual book. While the premise—a secret service renting spouses to the rich—sounds like the setup for drama and intrigue, the story is more like a discussion on what marriage means in modern Korea.

Not much really happens plot-wise, but the book dives into how people approach relationships, societal expectations, and the transactional side of love. Noh Inji, the protagonist, is caught in the middle of this messy world. There are some interesting moments, like her neighbor’s no-nonsense advice about not sleeping around and her best friend suggesting men and women can connect in ways other than sex. These glimpses add depth, but the book often feels repetitive and meandering.

The side characters don’t have much going on—they seem to exist just to make a point or move the discussion forward. While the book is thought-provoking in parts, it doesn’t quite pull you in emotionally or offer a compelling narrative to keep you hooked.

If you’re interested in social commentary about marriage in South Korea, this might resonate with you. Just don’t expect a lot of action or a tightly plotted story.