Have you ever heard of piblokto (Arctic Hysteria) or hwa-byeong (fire sickness)? These are names of culture-bound syndromes that only ‘exist’ in certain cultures and families. Let’s add the title of this book to this list of syndromes. Folklorn is in so many ways one of the best book titles I have ever come across: it hints at feeling lost, a certain (be)longing, and the magic and mystery of folk tales.

Through Elsa’s story, you explore what it means to belong somewhere – not only in terms of origin, but also in terms of relationships with people (including yourself). The many comments about race and culture and vulgar “jokes” sometimes made me feel uncomfortable and annoyed with Elsa as a narrator. I don’t like her as a person, but I do recognize that she is an insightful storyteller who fits a story like this. In fact, my slight dislike and appreciation shows Angela Mi Young Hur’s writing skills.

In Folklorn, you’ll read about what it is like to grow up in another country from two different perspectives: the adoptee and the immigrant. Neither had it easy, but despite being “neglected” by their (foster) parents, the story shows that the (foster) parents did their best with the knowledge that was available at the time.

“I just want to be enclosed and untouchable, lest anyone expect me to bloom.” Elsa is not in a happy place, yet that doesn’t make this a depressing story. Her self-mockery and thoughts show a deep-rooted hurt. One of the things that Folklorn does really well is that it creates an understanding of the characters and the situation. Just ask yourself the following question: when you act with someone’s best interests at heart, are you doing what is best for them? Did you ask them?