I picked up A Single Shard because it was recommended to me by a friend. Much more excitingly, it was completely panned as terrible by two friends, and who doesn’t love a little controversy?
In A Single Shard, Linda Sue Park writes a story of dreams, determination, sacrifice, family, and honor. The story follows Tree Ear, an orphan boy living in 12th century Korea. Tree Ear lives in Ch’ulp’o, a village famed for its beautiful celadon pottery. Every day, he spies on Min, a master potter – in a village filled to the brim with expert craftsmen, Min is the best of the best.
At times, I found the book cartoonish – Tree Ear’s best friend is an old cripple with one leg named Crane Man. Crane Man starts off as a caricature of the archetypical old sage with wise advice, but I quickly found myself enjoying his presence more and more. His character becomes fuller throughout the story, and Park even seems to acknowledge the way his character could have gone (but did not), by describing how he almost joined a Buddhist monastery.
A surprisingly quick book, the plot takes its time warming up and then sprints toward the end. It is propelled not by any external conflict but rather by Tree Ear’s deep desire to find his place in the world. This desire is intense yet subtle. Tree Ear’s orphanhood is largely ignored for most of the book – mentioned, but accepted and then ignored. Park holds back on reminding us for an emotional gut-punch coming. Right on the heels of another grand failure, Tree Ear asks Min if he might one day become Min’s apprentice. Min, battling his own demons, responds, “Know this, orphaned one. If you even learn to make a pot, it will not be from me. You are not my son.”
At its best, A Single Shard showcases heartwarming scenes between the eager Tree-ear, the cold master potter Min, Min’s warmer wife, and the kind-hearted Crane Man. While not flawless, the emotional payoff at the book’s end is well worth exploring its too-short 150 pages.
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