R.O. Kwon's second novel, Exhibit, is a searing study of art, desire, and bodily and intellectual freedom. Northern California photographer Jin Han earned notoriety for her triptychs depicting "religious people in states of worship." Given her lapsed Christian faith and her inclusion of self-portraits copying her subjects' poses, she has received hate mail and a boycott. This causes Jin to question her own motives: "did I, by reviving what I grieved, risk indulging in tragic kitsch?" Interspersed in the narrative are anguished letters to a God she no longer believes in ("Dear made-up Lord, I lived in pursuit of You...").
Doubt divides Jin from her devout parents in Seoul, while sexual needs drive her and her husband, Philip, apart. In the opening scene, Jin is immediately drawn to fellow Korean American Lidija Jung, an injured ballet dancer, at a party. Lidija shares Jin's interest in BDSM, which Philip is reluctant to explore. Moreover, Philip has decided he wants a baby, but Jin prefers to remain childfree. Little surprise, then, that Jin becomes increasingly intimate with Lidija, her muse. A new project even showcases the bruises and blood from their encounters. Soon, Jin is called back to Korea when her mother is hospitalized--an incident Jin's vestigial religious mindset leads her to interpret as punishment.
The BDSM theme connects to Kwon's co-edited anthology, Kink. There's also a tie-in to Kwon's debut novel: Jin attended Edwards College, and through photographs imagined extremist Phoebe Lin's life had she not joined the Jejah cult, responsible for multiple bombings in The Incendiaries. Here, too, flame metaphors are rife. "I had to kill this longing. If I didn't, I'd light my life on fire," Jin resolves early on.
Kwon's sentences are like grenades, carefully wrought and concentrated with meaning: "Lidija, netted, pulled in from pelagic depths. Split-tailed prize, bold skin flaring. In altering light, she blurred. Iris flesh, injured leg tall." Staccato phrasing and poetic vocabulary allow Kwon to pack much into this intense novel's short length, including chapters that tell the life story of a kisaeng (courtesan) who now, as a ghost, inspires--and perhaps curses--both Lidija and Jin. Though the prose threatens to overwhelm a somewhat familiar plot, the focus on art and independence, as well as the bisexual representation, make this stand out. It's ideal reading for fans of Melissa Broder, Teju Cole, and Brandon Taylor. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader and blogger at Bookish Beck
Shelf Talker: In R.O. Kwon's bold second novel, a Korean American photographer depicts her loss of faith, as well as her bisexuality and attraction to BDSM, through her art.