Crossing the Peak and Starting a New Chapter: Baek Hee-na’s Warm “Microcosm” and Growth Fable

When I was invit­ed to write book reviews for Baek Hee-na’s three lat­est pic­ture books (How to Make Mag­ic Sug­ar Balls, The Mag­ic Wardrobe, and The Swal­low and the Wil­low Boy), I could­n’t help but review the words I had writ­ten for her and her works.

It was first writ­ten on Jan­u­ary 5, 2007 for her debut album “Cloud Bread”.Because of cloud bread, they lived hap­pi­ly ever after…;

On August 23, 2016, after near­ly a decade of inex­plic­a­ble silence, she came to Bei­jing with her new book, The Fairy in the Bath­house, to meet Chi­nese read­ers. I had the hon­or of host­ing that meet­ing.She also shared the sto­ry behind her cre­ation on Wei­bo that day.;

Lat­er, when her works were pub­lished in a col­lec­tion, I wrote a review on Sep­tem­ber 1, 2019.Search­ing for an Ide­al Home in the World of Pic­ture Books;

One year lat­er, on August 4, 2020, I was fin­ish­ingA Brief His­to­ry of Pic­ture BooksI wrote a sup­ple­men­tary arti­cle, “Baek Hee-na: Ris­ing from the Lows to Soar­ing to the Top,” as a grand finale to that fas­ci­nat­ing sto­ry­telling his­to­ry of the genre. That year, she had just won the Inter­na­tion­al Lind­gren Memo­r­i­al Award (a prize of 5 mil­lion Swedish kro­nor, approx­i­mate­ly 4 mil­lion RMB), becom­ing the first female Asian pic­ture book artist to win the high­est inter­na­tion­al chil­dren’s book award! Actu­al­ly, I also had a per­son­al motive. She is my con­tem­po­rary, and her tire­less strug­gle and growth sto­ry are par­tic­u­lar­ly inspir­ing and moti­vat­ing to me.

Pre­cise­ly because of my long-stand­ing inter­est in her work, I could­n’t help but feel a surge of excite­ment when I read her three new works. I could­n’t resist email­ing my edi­tor to express my heart­felt admi­ra­tion and con­grat­u­la­tions. I know that it’s tru­ly remark­able for some­one to con­tin­ue to grow after achiev­ing top acco­lades. These three works not only main­tain the artist’s orig­i­nal stan­dards but also seem to offer some break­throughs. They also appro­pri­ate­ly bor­row ele­ments from her past and pos­sess a touch of humor (a rare achieve­ment for a rel­a­tive­ly reserved East­ern artist). Why? Let me explain.

A unique artis­tic imprint: a cul­mi­na­tion of minia­ture the­atre and sen­so­ry feast

Baek Hee-na’s pic­ture books are inter­na­tion­al­ly renowned for their unique artis­tic expres­sion. She com­bines hand­made pup­pets with pho­to­re­al­is­tic mod­el pho­tog­ra­phy to cre­ate a sig­na­ture “minia­ture the­ater” effect. This mul­ti-media aes­thet­ic per­me­ates near­ly all of her work, and is fur­ther enhanced and inno­vat­ed in her new works. With the metic­u­lous atten­tion to detail of an ani­mat­ed film, she per­son­al­ly crafts every char­ac­ter, prop, and setting—from the tan­gi­ble bread of “Cloud Bread,” the authen­tic bath­house back­drop and nude details of “Fairies in the Bath­house,” to the metic­u­lous­ly sewn minia­ture cos­tumes and props of “The Mag­ic Wardrobe.” This cre­ative approach, which blends diverse tech­niques such as clay mod­el­ing, paper sculp­ture, fab­ric col­lage, and pho­tog­ra­phy, imbues her images with a rich, hand­made tex­ture and cin­e­mat­ic inten­si­ty, estab­lish­ing the artist’s dis­tinc­tive and instant­ly rec­og­niz­able style.

To cap­ture the ide­al snowy land­scape in “Swal­low and the Wil­low Boy,” she per­son­al­ly trav­eled to the moun­tains of Gang­won Province and near Seoul, South Korea, cap­tur­ing images of the snowy land­scape with a bluish-pur­ple hue, cre­at­ing a chill­ing atmos­phere. The char­ac­ter­i­za­tion of Swal­low’s face, with its frost-cracked, red­dened skin and fine hairs, is clear­ly vis­i­ble. The old wom­an’s features—deep wrin­kles, promi­nent cheek­bones, and down­turned mouth—demonstrate a harsh and cru­el char­ac­ter. The wil­low boy and Swal­low, a boy and a girl, yet their “twin” appear­ances sug­gest a deep inner con­nec­tion. She even bold­ly and direct­ly depicts the cru­el­ty of the old woman set­ting fire to the wil­low boy, reduc­ing the cave to ash. This unabashed por­tray­al of the dark side height­ens the sto­ry’s ten­sion and emo­tion­al impact. These sub­tle visu­al ele­ments allow the images them­selves to vivid­ly con­vey the char­ac­ters, the sto­ry’s con­flicts, and the emo­tion­al dynam­ics, achiev­ing the effect of “silence speaks loud­er than words.”

In “How to Make Mag­ic Can­dy Balls,” the use of light and shad­ow is cru­cial. An old man makes can­dy balls on a star­ry night, col­lect­ing the starlight in a pot of water and con­dens­ing dreamy col­ors with bub­bles blown from a straw. Light itself becomes part of the plot, sym­bol­iz­ing spir­i­tu­al puri­ty and the light of hope. The pre­cise depic­tion of cloth­ing col­ors and tex­tures in “The Mag­ic Wardrobe” cre­ates a high­ly syn­er­gis­tic effect between image and text. The exquis­ite coor­di­na­tion of cos­tumes and char­ac­ters demon­strates a lev­el of skill and taste com­pa­ra­ble to that of a pro­fes­sion­al fash­ion design­er! Baek Hee-na’s obses­sion with pre­ci­sion is almost para­noid. For exam­ple, the cov­er of “The Fairy in the Bath­house” fea­tures a flawed fin­ger, the length of which caused her to con­sid­er scrap­ping and remak­ing it. It is this metic­u­lous atten­tion to detail that makes her work such a mem­o­rable visu­al feast.

Sub­li­ma­tion of the theme: Awak­en­ing of inner strength

If all of Baek Hee-na’s works always con­tain the main col­ors of warmth and hope, then these three new works have achieved a sig­nif­i­cant sub­li­ma­tion in the depth of the theme. They are mod­ern fables that par­tic­u­lar­ly empha­size “the awak­en­ing of inner strength” and “self-heal­ing.”

Ear­ly in her career, Baek Hee-na col­lab­o­rat­ed on adap­ta­tions of folk tales like “The Red Bean Por­ridge Granny,” large­ly adher­ing to the tra­di­tion­al frame­work of “weak forces work­ing togeth­er to over­come the strong.” In “Swal­low and the Wil­low Boy,” she skill­ful­ly reframes the theme of a tra­di­tion­al Kore­an folk tale. The sto­ry tran­scends a sim­ple admo­ni­tion to good and pun­ish­ment for evil, or a Cin­derel­la-esque sto­ry of pas­sive­ly await­ing a bene­fac­tor, becom­ing a pure fairy tale of self-growth and over­com­ing inner fears. She blurs the stereo­type of the tra­di­tion­al step­moth­er, recast­ing her as an “old woman” who can be embody­ing any dif­fi­cul­ty or oppres­sion that hin­ders the pro­tag­o­nist’s growth. The wil­low boy is also rede­fined as a fig­ure resem­bling Swal­low, sym­bol­iz­ing Swal­low’s “inner mas­culin­i­ty” or “alter ego,” the embod­i­ment of his inner strength. Thus, Swal­low’s plight isn’t res­cued by exter­nal forces, but rather, through an encounter with this “alter ego,” a hid­den courage and inde­pen­dence unleashed with­in her.

The end­ing of the sto­ry is par­tic­u­lar­ly inter­est­ing. The old woman “may” sim­ply grow old and lone­ly with the pass­ing of time. This approach eschews “revenge” and instead embod­ies a kind of for­give­ness or tran­scen­dence of evil. Yan’er over­comes the bit­ter cold and dark­ness with her own courage and per­se­ver­ance, ulti­mate­ly ush­er­ing in spring, mak­ing it a “pure com­ing-of-age fairy tale.” Notably, Baek Hee-na her­self revealed that dur­ing a dif­fi­cult peri­od in her life, she drew immense com­fort and courage from the orig­i­nal folk tale, which sparked the idea for this book. Yan’er’s courage may reflect the author’s own expe­ri­ence over­com­ing the harsh win­ters of life and main­tain­ing a strong momen­tum for growth, enhanc­ing the work’s emo­tion­al depth and heal­ing pow­er.

“The Mag­ic Wardrobe” fur­ther focus­es on indi­vid­ual emo­tion­al heal­ing and self-care. The sto­ry revolves around Banana, a zebra girl who is depressed and stays at home. The “eye mask” she wears may be a sign of social anx­i­ety or avoid­ance, or it can be seen as a “horse rac­ing eye mask”, sug­gest­ing the state of mod­ern peo­ple exces­sive­ly pur­su­ing goals and neglect­ing their inner needs. The mag­ic wardrobe is not an overnight anti­dote, but a tran­si­tion­al method to help her gain dif­fer­ent life expe­ri­ences. It encour­ages Banana to grad­u­al­ly achieve inner change and emo­tion­al repair through dai­ly changes of clothes, tidy­ing up the room, going out, inter­act­ing with oth­ers, and immers­ing her­self in nature… and ulti­mate­ly learn to accept her true self. The work empha­sizes that dai­ly self-care is the real mag­ic. Baek Hee-na wants to con­vey: “Tomor­row when you can start over is a beau­ti­ful gift.” She encour­ages read­ers (and prob­a­bly her­self): “Cher­ish every day and cher­ish your unique self.”

The orig­i­nal title of “The Mag­ic Wardrobe” was actu­al­ly “Hap­py Birth­day.” The sto­ry cul­mi­nates on Banana’s birth­day, where the plot takes a sur­pris­ing turn: the once enchant­ed wardrobe sud­den­ly con­tains only a birth­day hat! How­ev­er, dri­ven by a pow­er­ful wish, Banana trans­forms into a soar­ing uni­corn (a long-held dream, as evi­denced by her wall murals and phone screen back­grounds). Only to be shat­tered by a sud­den down­pour. This inge­nious plot arrange­ment pro­vides a com­plete emo­tion­al jour­ney, tran­si­tion­ing from day­dreamy mag­i­cal imag­i­na­tion to the real­i­ty of every­day life. While there’s a touch of self-dep­re­ca­tion, there’s no sense of dejec­tion or offense. After regain­ing some warmth in real­i­ty, Banana sud­den­ly “remem­bers her old, yet pre­cious, and com­fort­able ice skates” and drifts off to sleep… Wak­ing up, the sun will rise again tomor­row.

“How to Make Mag­ic Sug­ar Balls” is a clear sequel to “Sug­ar Balls,” explor­ing the inner pow­er of inter­per­son­al under­stand­ing and empa­thy. It fur­ther delves into the phi­los­o­phy behind the mag­ic sug­ar balls, which “can hear the voice of the heart,” and empha­sizes the true mean­ing of a “pure mind”—transparency, clean­li­ness, light­ness, and sin­cer­i­ty. Only with a clear mind can one tru­ly per­ceive the world, dis­cov­er their true selves, and pos­sess the courage and wis­dom to lis­ten and express their true feel­ings. The square-spec­ta­cled old man in the sta­tionery store in “Sug­ar Balls” is revealed to be a hid­den yoga mas­ter and a guide with extra­or­di­nary pow­ers and wis­dom, offer­ing com­fort to trou­bled chil­dren. This humor­ous “extra” sketch con­tains wis­dom about self-cul­ti­va­tion, which may require “wait­ing until age 67 to revis­it it” to tru­ly under­stand!

Nar­ra­tive Inno­va­tion: Build­ing an Inter­con­nect­ed “Baishi­na Uni­verse”

Judg­ing from Baek Hee-na’s new works, she is no longer sat­is­fied with improv­ing a sin­gle sto­ry, but is more will­ing to clev­er­ly con­struct an inter­con­nect­ed “Baek Hee-na Uni­verse”, link­ing mul­ti­ple works through a unique “deriv­a­tive char­ac­ter per­spec­tive to expand the sto­ry” strat­e­gy.

For exam­ple, “Mag­ic Can­dy Ball Mak­ing,” “Can­dy Ball,” and “I Am a Dog” togeth­er form the warm and fan­tas­ti­cal “Can­dy Ball Uni­verse.” The pre­quel, “I Am a Dog,” tells the first-per­son per­spec­tive of the pup­py Zhuzhu, describ­ing her dai­ly life after arriv­ing at Dong­dong’s home. While devoid of fan­ta­sy ele­ments, it uses humor and warmth to cap­ture the human-pet friend­ship and the mean­ing of com­pan­ion­ship. The sub­se­quent “Can­dy Ball” picks up where Zhuzhu left off, depict­ing Dong­dong con­nect­ing with his sur­round­ings through mag­ic can­dy balls. “Mag­ic Can­dy Ball Mak­ing,” a side sto­ry, reveals the mag­ic can­dy ball mak­ing process and the grand­fa­ther’s “true” iden­ti­ty, fur­ther strength­en­ing and enrich­ing the char­ac­ter rela­tion­ships through­out the series. This con­trast­ing plot pro­vides read­ers with moments of sud­den real­iza­tion, adding depth and warmth to the orig­i­nal sto­ry.

Sim­i­lar­ly, “The Mag­ic Wardrobe” shares close ties with “Last Night,” orig­i­nal­ly pub­lished in 2010. The pro­tag­o­nist, Ban Na, is the res­i­dent of Apart­ment 501 in “Last Night.” Per­haps “The Mag­ic Wardrobe” can be con­sid­ered the begin­ning of the “Apart­ment Series.” At the Sil­ver Plate Tea House where Ban Na goes for after­noon tea, Yuna the Duck is like­ly the Duck Lady from Apart­ment 304; the black cat who once deliv­ered choco­late cake to Apart­ment 701 still works at the Sil­ver Plate Tea House; and among the friends group Ban Na post­ed about her birth­day par­ty, most are clear­ly neigh­bors of the same apart­ment build­ing (inter­est­ed read­ers can com­pare them one by one). The inter­play of char­ac­ters and set­tings offers read­ers famil­iar with her work a kind of “series East­er egg”-like dis­cov­ery. This method of pre­sent­ing sto­ries from dif­fer­ent per­spec­tives with­in a famil­iar set­ting demon­strates Bai Xina’s inno­v­a­tive and ground­break­ing nar­ra­tive struc­ture. We can expect to read more of these expand­ed sto­ries in the future.

Baek Hee-na’s three new books, “How to Make Mag­ic Can­dy Balls,” “The Mag­ic Wardrobe,” and “The Swal­low and the Wil­low Boy,” once again demon­strate her unique inge­nu­ity in sto­ry­telling, the­mat­ic con­cep­tion, and visu­al artistry. With her strik­ing mul­ti­me­dia aes­thet­ic, mod­ern inter­pre­ta­tions of tra­di­tion­al sto­ries, and pro­found insights into the inner world of indi­vid­u­als, she con­tin­ues to push the bound­aries of pic­ture books. She demon­strates that it is pos­si­ble to bal­ance fideli­ty and cre­ativ­i­ty. Her works are not only a bril­liant com­men­tary on her own cre­ative path, but also a pow­er­ful exam­ple of how tra­di­tion­al sto­ries can be revi­tal­ized in the mod­ern era. The sto­ries with­in and beyond her books also remind us that in the cold win­ter of life, by fac­ing our fears and tap­ping into our inner poten­tial, we can ush­er in our own spring.

Ajia, Writ­ten in Bei­jing on July 31, 2025