Three extraordinary women in three age groups and three unforgettable
lives intersect in Morim Kang's fascinating 10, 20, and 30. Krumb is a clumsy,
scatterbrained widow in her 30's whose teenaged daughter, Rok, is forced
to take care of. Meanwhile, Rok's jaded, twenty-something cousin Belle
suffers a messy breakup with her boyfriend. Finally, Rok, who dreads
the thought of growing up and its attendant responsibilities, hates men and
is sure to complicate matters. Get ready for one wild ride with 10, 20, and 30.
- PopCultureShock
The interlocking vignettes in 10, 20, and 30 focus on three women: sixteen-year-old Rok Na Lee, her 26-year-old cousin Belle Woo, and Rok's 36-year-old mother Krumb. Krumb, widowed at 32, works full-time as a clothing designer for a large retailer. The stress of reporting to a shrill, mean-spirited superior has reduced Krumb to a permanent state of absent-mindedness, forcing Rok to become the de facto parent in the household. Temperamentally, too, the two women are utterly different. Rok is fierce and judgmental, quick to lash out at family members and hapless male admirers who, in her estimation, are weak. Krumb, on the other hand, is timid, avoiding confrontations with her ball-busting boss and frequently bursting into tears when criticized. (She's also a spectacular klutz.) Belle, Rok's cousin, falls somewhere in the middle: she's feisty and assertive, but mindful of the fact that her more traditional parents are eager to find her a husband. While assuring her parents that she's a respectable, marriage-minded girl, Belle has been dating a reporter on the down-low.
As one might guess from the set-up, the story lines in 10, 20, and 30 explore some oft-traveled terrain as Rok, Krumb, and Belle fumble their way toward self-knowledge and—naturally—Mr. Right. There's a dash of Much Ado About Nothing in Rok's uneasy friendship with her neighbor (and ardent admirer) Dawoon, a hint of Sex in the City in Belle's sexcapades, and a bit of Stella Dallas in Krumb's budding romance with her company's president. What distinguishes 10, 20 and 30 from, say, Sex in the City, however, is that the series' humor remains firmly rooted in the everyday. Mundane moments are never the jumping off point for outrageous plotlines, implausible mix-ups, or over-the-top slapstick. (Well, I should qualify that remark by noting that there is a rather crude running gag involving Belle. I won't spoil the joke, but suffice to say that Belle could solve the problem by (a) locking her door (b) limiting the number of keys she distributes to family members or (c) moving to a doorman building.) Instead, these scenes liberally mix humor with darker emotions. That's not to say that 10, 20, and 30 doesn't have its share of goofy moments, just that there's often an undercurrent of melancholy or loneliness in stories that, on the surface, have their share of pratfalls and punchlines.
For many readers, the primary obstacle to enjoying 10, 20 and 30 will be the artwork: you'll either find it charming—as I did—or crude. The layout and character designs reminded me more of a comic strip than the kind of manga/manwha that's been licensed for the American market. Yet I found the boldness and simplicity of Kang's style to be a perfect fit with the stories. Those deformations, oversized sweat drops, and flapping arms capture the way we really experience embarrassment, fear, betrayal, and attraction: in the moment, one's own sense of self is grossly—even cartoonishly—exaggerated, even if that moment seems trivial in hindsight.
Much as I liked the artwork, what I liked best about 10, 20, and 30 is Kang's knack for creating compelling characters that, at first glance, might not seem particularly remarkable or, at times, likeable. They make mistakes; they overreact; they misjudge the men in their lives; they sometimes hurt loved ones with selfish behavior. To be sure, these kind of flawed women populate the pages of chick-lit titles like Bridget Jones' Diary and TV shows like Ally McBeal. But there's a qualitative difference between Bridget and Ally and the ladies of 10, 20, and 30: Rok, Belle, and Krumb aren't neurotic. Beneath their quirks and anxieties, all three women display genuine strength and self-determination, even if they don't always make smart choices about the men in their lives. And that makes them the kind of sympathetic, appealing characters that readers like to root for.
Volume 1 of 10, 20, and 30 will be published in July. The first three chapters are currently available online through NET Comics' pay-per-view system. This review was based on a galley provided by the publisher.
May 2007
Krumb Yoon
Trying to be the perfect single working mother and keeping the household together are two of the highest priorities on Krumb's to-do list. To that, add trying to be a successful designer and looking for some love in her life. The only problem is that being a klutz, having a precocious and fiery-tempered daughter, and trying to wrangle her immoral niece are getting the better of her! At heart, Krumb is a weak-willed conformist, but through it all she has managed to cling to her innocence and integrity. As a 30-something worrywart, she is constantly considering everyone else but herself, but through it all, she searches for—and hopefully will find—her true self.
Belle Woo
Belle, much like her name implies, is gorgeous 20-something and a product of our materialistic times (she even classifies human emotions according to their owner's economic status). Obsessed with couture, fashion, glitz and glamour, it's a surprise that she has any time to fool around with all the men who come knocking at her door. Though she can be a bit snobbish, especially to men who waste her time or are lacking in substance, she is nothing but caring for her Auntie Krumb and little cousin Rok—though sometimes her version of caring involves a whack on the head. Lacking a life philosophy, Belle wanders through life stumbling through her many pitfalls and romances trying to find herself.
Rok Nah
Rok is a feisty and keenly intelligent teen. Seeing her mother's and cousin's lives and the habitual catastrophes that befall them, Rok makes a solemn oath to never live like they do. Of course, with her saying that, she unavoidably becomes involved in the very same situations the other two encounter. She's sarcastic and witty, and it frustrates her to no end that her mother is such a scatterbrain. Ultimately, Rok feels the burden of taking care of the single-parent household, viewing her mother as "not-so-dependable" and oftentimes feeling like the parent in her relationship with Krumb. Though Rok my rail against the winds of change, she will slowly come to realize that life doesn't just go on the way we'd like it to.
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reviews Avg. rating
(9.9)
Hark, I have found my Carrie! (And Charlotte, etc.)
HippitieHop
06/28/09 11:59
I've said this before, and I'll say it again. "10, 20, and 30" is what "Sex and the City" is to practically every other girl. So, it's pretty much THE story I relate to and totally love! Once I started reading this book, I fell in love with Krumb (the thirty-something trying to balance being a good Mom, a good career woman, and an at least somewhat mentally-together individual), Rok (her teenage daughter who loves her mother but gets really frusturated with her, and is also annoyed with boys who are just starting to like her, and even herself as she's just starting to come of age), and Belle (the hot twenty-something who, for all her beauty, can't seem to get her life together professionally or romantically). Isn't that already more down to earth than worrying about staining your designer shoes?
Point being, I'm now totally obsessed this series, and the characters! What really drew me in was their twisted but loving relationships with each other, the drama they have with guys, and how it's a story that manages to be sweet and still really hit home. "10, 20, and 30" deals with the issues that are bound to come up when you want love but also want your own life and success (something that girls/women have been struggling with since the women's movement, and still do, even today), and also how your personal tragedies, friendships from childhood, and even your own family can inevitably get in the way of that eternal search for "the one."
I know some people don't agree, but for me, the icing on the cake to the storytelling IS the art. Honestly, it's really cute. I realize it isn't as lavish or flowy as other Mangas, but don't be fooled. It perfectly suits the tone of the story, and while it's not a Shonen-ai or a Shojo where you fall in love with the boys/drawings because they are prettier than anything or anyone else you could ever possibly see in real life, you'll fall in love because the characters are so damn adorable! Their angry faces and happy faces are what kill me the most, and are really funny.
So, overall, read up! If you are a quirky kid who's looking for a read to make you laugh, feel touched, and to relate to, I can't make a better suggestion than "10, 20, and 30."
This series does a good job of capturing the significant emotional states and struggles of three dynamically different age groups. I think members of each respective age range will appreciate the story in their own way and from their own perspective. I'll definitely revisit this series when I'm older.
I'm usually a complete art snob, but the story here is just amazing. And the more I read the story, the more I think the art style is perfect for the sort of story the author is telling. It's funny, but also reminiscent of growing up from a teenager into an adult, and all the craziness that entails. On the whole the characters are very endearing and comical at the same time, a rare balance.
Wow. I don't usually like this kind of book, but I was snagged by the art style. I know there are people who will disagree with me, saying that the art is crude and/or unappealing to the eye, but for me it's just perfect. Though the lines start out a little wobbly, but the evolution of the art style from the beginning towards the more mature style in the later volumes makes for a fun journey. Something about it is just so design-portfolio-esque. Rok, Belle and Krumb are three absolutely dynamic women who make for a very entertaining story. It's mature and edgy, and much like the foreword the author provides, I agree with her when she says that this is a story that applies just as much to contemporary society as it did when it was written almost a decade ago. Morim Kang took what could have been an overdone and tired story that we've all seen before and instead went a direction that created three very distinct and dynamic women. I'd be hard pressed to find qualities that really overlap between them, and by doing this, Kang has given the reader (even guys, to a point) something to really reach out and attach yourself to. Whether you're insecure and klutzy like Krumb, a couture and chic womanlike Belle, or frustrated with humanity like Rok, there's a deep and rich human aspect to the story that we can all relate to. Congrats to Kang, this is definitely a masterpiece.
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