For pretty much anyone familiar with the idea of a fandom, fanfiction is far from a foreign concept. Whether you read it or not isn’t as important as understanding the cultural significance of this art form and its contributions to fan culture as a medium through which fans can explore their own niche interests around a specific universe, group or person. While not entirely unproblematic (the ethics surrounding writing fanfiction about real people are truly questionable), fanfiction has been made fun of in popular culture for far too long — and really, in the grand scheme of things people do to express their love as fans, fanfiction is one of the more respectable options, in my eyes.
Alas, not everyone shares this same mindset. Namely, the protagonist of Esther Yi’s literary debut, “Y/N” — a story quite literally named after the practice of replacing a protagonist’s name with “y/n” (meaning “your name”) in fanfiction. This story follows a similarly unnamed protagonist as her growing obsession with a fictional K-pop star named Moon takes her from Berlin to Seoul in her quest to stalk him down and profess her (spiritual?) love for him. Interspersed throughout the narrative are the occasional excerpt from a y/n fanfic the protagonist begins to write about herself and Moon, detailing their supposed “connected” souls. When she finally meets Moon in person, the protagonist is forced to reconcile the version of him she’s built up in her head with the real man behind the idol. Naturally, commentary ensues.
Unfortunately, the commentary is about all this book has to offer, and it barely makes for a meaningful reading experience. If I squint my eyes, I can sort of see the book trying to criticize the romanticization of celebrities, but even that is lost in the sea of other pointless, pseudo-intellectual musings the main character feels compelled to make throughout the novel. This story, when boiled down, is hardly that. It feels more like reading through an old Tumblr account than a published book. The bare bones of a story are there, sure — there are characters, settings and events that take place. There are even moments that are beautifully written, despite having to shlep through countless unnecessary philosophical rants to get there. But with nothing concrete to give the story shape in a reader’s mind, it loses direction and impact.
Here is where I have to give “Y/N” credit: I think the seemingly coincidental making of the narrator into a y/n character herself was no coincidence at all. In fact, it would be a rather clever plot device if the rest of the book was pulled off well. That being said, the story seems to miss the mark entirely on what makes real y/n fanfiction compelling in the first place. If the point of this kind of story is to be able to insert yourself as a reader onto the main character, said character needs to be at once dull enough to be relatable and “perfect” enough to be desirable — we want to believe we could simultaneously be this person and also envy them and their life. The main character of “Y/N,” by comparison, falls into the strange realm of being at once unknowable and far too distinct, making her difficult to relate to or attach ourselves to as a character. Moreover, even a lot of the more out-there fanfiction is at the very least still made relatable by the fact that it exists within the universe of a preexisting fandom, allowing many readers (being fans of the fandom itself) to ignore larger issues within the prose and connect with the story. This is not the case with “Y/N,” as Moon and the rest of his bandmates are all fictional. I didn’t find myself wishing I could be in the main character’s place as I read “Y/N” because Moon is not a real person I wish I could meet, nor is he a fictional character I already know and love; the story gave me nothing to grab onto.
This leads to the novel’s second (and arguably more significant) problem: Nothing really happens. Sure, the aforementioned events take place on the page, but these moments don’t really feel like moments given the fact the narrator consistently does nothing to contribute to making them happen. Instead, we’re pushed through a classic “nothing happens” plot by side characters we know nothing about and have no connection to. In these scenes, said side characters appear to be more interested in getting the narrator what she wants (the chance to meet Moon) than the narrator herself does. This doesn’t make sense — who, realistically, becomes this invested in a random stranger’s life? More importantly, in what world would this kind of stan need convincing to do anything that might help them meet their idol? It makes the story less compelling. The only real decisions the main character makes throughout the novel that have any consequence on the plot are initially choosing to become obsessed with Moon as a sort of competition with her own will, flying to Seoul to find him and eventually interacting with him once she does (an encounter that never would have happened, mind you, had one of the side characters not pushed the narrator into it). There’s no sense of dramatic tension sustained throughout the story to make us care about what’s happening, which isn’t surprising, considering it feels like even the narrator herself barely cares (despite the fact she goes on and on about her obsession with Moon in her internal monologue). Time sort of just … passes.
Unfortunately, rather than making any larger point about the problematic nature of idolizing real (and therefore imperfect) people, this book seems more aimed at criticizing fanfiction and the fan culture that surrounds it. Considering the author literally described the act of becoming obsessed with a celebrity as “blissfully stupid” when explaining the inspiration for this book, that doesn’t strike me as too far-fetched an idea. This perspective is really where my big problem with the book lies — it just takes itself too seriously. And while Yi admits in the same interview that her main character is “an intellectual who has a refined, and even pretentious, appreciation of Moon,” that just isn’t a good enough justification for me. Nevermind the fact the main character treats being a K-pop stan like embarking on a religious mission or pursuing a doctorate in philosophy (therefore placing her above all those other basic, surface-level K-pop stans who just casually think their bias is cute), it’s near-impossible for most normal people to read a page without needing to pull out a dictionary. For a book written about fanfiction and K-pop and, in theory, targeted at audiences who might enjoy or be interested in those things, this book feels neither accessible nor relatable. Unless, of course, this book was not targeted at those audiences but rather at those who look down on and assume intellectual superiority over these things.
At the end of the day, even pretentious people have flaws that make them human, but outside of being anti-social and gross (please don’t ask me about the pus scene), this narrator’s only “flaw” is being obsessed with a celebrity. And sure, flying to Korea and finding a pop star is incredibly excessive and wrong (please don’t do this), but it doesn’t feel like this book is trying to say the main character is an exception to the rule — it feels like it’s trying to say she is the rule, and that if every fan was as devoted as she was and had the means, they would do this too. And that’s simply not the case. If you’re someone who thinks of yourself as an intellectual and believes that K-pop, fanfiction and similar interests are below you, this book might be your jam. But if you’re anything like me, and you think laughing at people for simply having interests and expressing them is a practice best left in middle school, maybe it’s best you sit this one out.
Daily Arts Writer Camille Nagy can be reached at camnagy@umich.edu.