Kim Choyeop’s The Greenhouse at the End of the World carries forward the signature style of her short stories, depicting alternative possibilities with a gentle yet firm touch. Like many science fiction works of this era, the book starts with a global catastrophe. However, unlike those stories where a white male hero comes to the rescue, this book focuses on a group of women surviving the apocalypse and one woman who discovers their story after the world is rebuilt.

      In many literary works and in the real world, we often encounter gender stereotypes—women are expected to be associated with certain identities while being distanced from others. However, the women in this book are scientists, soldiers, and mechanics, as well as mothers, daughters, and sisters. They live in a futuristic world where they can be brave and tough, but also gentle and attentive at the same time. And in this setting, there’s no sense of contradiction or constraint imposed by gender.

      Binary thinking is generally challenged in Kim’s narrative: the official and the civilian, selfishness and altruism, plants and machines, the natural and artificial, the beneficial and harmful—despite appearing mutually exclusive, they’re actually deeply intertwined. Consider the strange plant Mossvana, which appears throughout the book: it’s a blend of nature and technology, serving as an effective agent against dust while at the same time representing a malevolent force of unchecked growth. However, these assessments of effectiveness and malevolence are derived from a human perspective. The plant itself doesn’t have a specific purpose; it merely evolves to adapt and survive. Humans are the ones who consider the plant’s ability to reduce dust to be beneficial, but its toxic stems and leaves harmful, and its blue luminescence irrelevant. This plant species became a trailblazer in a particular era, then retreated into history. Whether it is rediscovered or researched doesn’t affect the plant itself.

      Rachel, the creator of Mossvana, exhibits a similar pattern. Her limbs and organs have been replaced by machine components, and her blood with nano-fluids, making her a cyborg. She studies plants because she is interested in them, and she modifies them because she can. She doesn’t intend to save the world, nor does she aim to destroy it. Rachel is a character full of mysteries that defy straight answers. When the last organic part of her brain is removed, does she still retain some humanity, or has she become a machine? When the chip in her brain is manipulated by Ji Su, does she still have free will? Is the relationship between Rachel and Ji Su, which transitions from curiosity to dependence, a form of love? Kim doesn’t impose judgments on her characters but leaves room for readers to come up with their own interpretations. 

      Readers are then free to imagine future possibilities. As challenges like climate change and artificial intelligence shape our future, science fiction tropes are becoming reality. Kim’s stories help us to prepare for the changes ahead, devising guidelines we can follow in times of despair. As Susan Watkins observed in Contemporary Women’s Post-Apocalyptic Fiction, rather than nostalgic restoration of what has been lost, women writers reimagine post-apocalyptic scenarios and propose alternative possible futures. In The Greenhouse at the End of the World, Kim depicts a post-apocalyptic utopia led by women. She reminds us that no utopia can last forever, and that any grand communal structure designed to withstand the future will eventually collapse in extreme conditions. However, these women focus on living well in the here and now, even if their past experiences are not believed and their contributions to save humanity beyond the utopia are not recognized. Their survival against the most difficult times and adversaries  becomes a testament to the possibility of whatever utopia—no matter how transient—they can find.

Translated by Shaoyan Hu

Regina Kanyu Wang

Writer, Editor, Researcher

Hugo Award Finalist for “Zhurong on Mars” and Locus Award finalist for The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories.