Finding Peace in a Feminist Bookstore in Seoul

There is a space, wedged by the hands of queer women, a scapple to the gut of the city, carving in an attempt to cut the patriarchy open and make space for peace.

Catcalled, stared down, cleaned up as quickly as possible from potential secret cameras lurking in bathroom stalls, brothel after brothel lined on the street, young girls in mini skirts handing out pamphlets to services they did not invent.

It’s too much all of the time, this brutal awareness of my body, and every other woman’s body, up for sale, up for debate, upheld only if deemed worthy.

Whether it's wedged in a cold city, or unfolded in the hills of the country, I have longed for a place that would allow us to stretch out and become full without all the eyes and hands that desire us.

We need refuge, a place of our own, a place where the peaceful, the seeing, the damned, can come together and silently browse through shelves of idealism.

A bookstore, Not Just Books, sits half-hidden on the third floor of a small building in the city of Seoul.

The owner, the queer woman behind the counter, wrapping a Date-with-a-Book and glancing up at her clientele, acts as captain of an arc, two by two we enter, two by two we embrace a moment of freedom, a moment where we are not glared at, sized up, or judged.

Books from icons like Audrie Lorde, Maya Angelou, and Bell Hooks, the black women who were the guiding light toward equality, but also new treasures from names yet to be widespread, authors and artists keep the lights on and help us see new possibilities.

I have discovered the pull of Korean Feminist authors who continue to fight for equality in a country that demands their subordinates. Kim Jiyoung Born 1982, not so much fiction, as it is the tale of all of us. National borders be damned.

Korean women and foreign women come together here to find a second of peace. And the happiest surprise is the men entering with their partners, they scan the shelves, nervous as to what they might find, feminism a word they’ve been taught to fear, they twist their hands together and for the first time feel the heavy weight of living in a space not designed for them.

But they ease into it, they find a book or two that catches their eyes, pages turn, and we are connected in silence.

I spot a man with his hands busy flipping through Han Kang's latest novel, and I feel comfortable at his side. He looks at Han Kang's portrait on the back cover, then tucks the book under his arm, ready to cash out and carry her wisdom at his side. Equality can feel like a friendship, even without words.

All are welcome here, in a place that reclaims a sense of innocence and positive burden, a feminist bookstore is what we needed to keep our sanity, it’s what I needed to breathe, and allow the oxygen coming in to remind myself that I am more than the restrictions these gender norms place on me.

I am expansive in that small space, edged between brick and patriarchal views.

I take a breath and enjoy that simple moment. Me and the others, hungry for knowledge and comfort in that tiny little bookstore in Seoul.

Not Just Books is a well-curated feminist bookstore near Seoul Forest Station. If you are lucky enough to visit Seoul, I highly recommend popping in and browsing their collection. They even have a bookstore puppy, if you needed another reason to go!