Light Shop (Disney+)
Lee Heewon: “Do you think they’ll wake up?” nurse Youngji (Park Bo-young) is asked in the intensive care unit. Looking at the patients lying in a coma, she cautiously responds, “It all depends on their will to live.” It can feel unfairly cruel to say things like this to patients and their families. What does “will” mean to a patient confined to their sickbed, fighting alone? And is it truly a solitary battle? For those hovering between life and death, there is only one condition to return to the real world: They must, of their own volition, come to the shop to find their light. The series Light Shop, the directorial debut of actor Kim Hie-Won and based on the webtoon by Kang Full, uncoils a story about how those flickering between life and death find their way back to the light.
In contrast to the condition in place at the light shop, the will of others causes cracks to form in the rigid rules of the afterlife. Throughout the series, a mother tries to save her daughter’s life by sending her out every day on an errand to buy lights from the shop, a woman silently mends her partner’s torn back and helps them stand when they can’t bring themselves to visit the shop, and a man carries a student who’s collapsed in defeat in the middle of an alley and places them in front of the shop, hinting that they should act as though it was their own decision to search for a light. And so the daughter, the partner, and the student all find their way back to life thanks to the unwavering affection of others around them. Human love and solidarity are able to form exceptions that transcend the laws of life and death. Later on, Youngji, the nurse, revises what she spoke about earlier, saying, “It could be that it’s not just his will that we’re seeing right now.” Even in a shadowy world that follows death, the way these people try to help and save others converge to shine a light. It’s like Wonyoung (Ju Ji Hoon), the owner of the brightly glowing light shop in the dark alley, says: “It’s a world where everybody can eventually move on.”
“Into the New World” (Girls’ Generation)
Randy Suh (music writer): It seems like there’s only one thing you can see on the news since the events of December 3. This year, the K-pop that echoed out in the streets made bigger headlines than what was performed for the year-end awards circuit. The songs that rang out at rallies in the name of upholding democracy in the midst of crisis weren’t the latest hits but rather songs everyone was already well acquainted with. Continuing to carry a particularly special kind of symbolic weight even today is “Into the New World,” the song Girls’ Generation debuted with back in 2007. The song is undeniably powerful in and of itself: It surges with major notes of hope, but a closer listen reveals the minor undertone of an emotional melody, paired with heart-stirring drums and lyrics that relay girls vowing to stay strong together—words that grow all the more moving when sung as a group. From the queer parades—Korea’s parallel to pride parades—of the early 2000s and the day’s K-pop reverberating through rallies for human rights, to the sit-ins at Ewha Womans University that snowballed into the 2016 protests against then-president Park Geun-hye, to the “sad K-pop parties” at numerous conflicts in recent years, to the all-night vigil of young women holding light sticks in the bitter cold in 2025 to protect increasingly isolated farmer activists at Namtaeryeong, “Into The New World” has leapt from the voices of those participating in pivotal moments of the era, evolving into an anthem of solidarity. While today’s pop music is certainly restricted to some extent by the market that guides it, there are still moments when the very essence of the music itself becomes something inseparably of the people.
The History of the World in 100 Plants by Simon Barnes
Kim Boksung (writer): There’s something inherently fascinating about the way nature and humanity intertwine (including with animals). From nearly invisible moss to the towering trees that define landscapes, the plant world has quietly, yet powerfully, shaped our cultures.
Divided into 100 bite-sized sections, Simon Barnes’ The History of the World in 100 Plants peels back the layers of this relationship through digestible chapters, each focused on a specific plant (and occasional fungus) with a unique role in our history. Whether detailing how plants can revolutionize the clothes on our backs (think cotton), rewire our minds (coffee, for one), or affect our bodies (penicillin—good, poison—bad), Barnes keeps the book accessible and lively, with references from literature to pop culture sprinkled in that make it far from a dry history lesson. It’s also loaded with beautiful photos and art—overall, an insightful, casual read, not a technical deep dive. The author also imparts a message of how important it is for us, the beneficiaries of nature’s wonders, to go beyond “the human need for control” and to better preserve these gifts.
Speaking of gifts, 100 Plants is the perfect late Christmas present, and Barnes has also authored a similar book on animals if that’s more your last-minute recipient’s speed. Maybe we’ll get The History of the World in 100 Insects next?