Chicken Book Reviews 2025 – Are You Ready for Some Extraordinary Chicken Books? — Randy’s Chicken Blog

The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly
Sun-Mi Hwang
Translation by Chi-Young Kim
llustrations by Nomoco
Penguin Books
2013

I’ll start with a confession: I’m not happy with this book’s English translation from the original Korean. There. I’ve said it. Bear with me while I explain why, and then I’ll tell you why despite that, this small book broke my heart. In a good way.

When Sun-mi Hwang’s book was first published in Korea in 2000, it was a phenomenon. It stayed on the Korean best-seller list for over a decade, inspired a 2011 movie that broke Korean box office records, and became a modern Korean classic. The English language version was published in in 2013. And crickets. There was no fanfare and little buzz. Today, twenty-five years after its original publication date, most American readers have never heard of it.

Why did this book, incredibly popular in Korea, never grow legs here? Some blame cultural differences—they say the themes that are relatable to Koreans don’t resonate in the West. I disagree. I think the themes the book addresses are universal and the problem is with the translation.

Chi-Young Kim, a respected Booker-Prize-shortlisted translator and Penguin, the American publisher, had to make choices in translating this book for an English-speaking audience. I suspect that some of the decisions were made by committee and that there were too many cooks spoiling the broth. Publication was delayed over the title. The Korean title is Leafie, a Hen into the Wild. In the English edition, Leafie the hen was renamed “Spout” and the title became The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly. The English-language title is intriguing and poetic. But I’ve read the book and I don’t think it fits. Why? Well, no spoilers.

It was decided to make “creative, rather than literal” choices for the main character’s name and the title of the book, and I suspect that similar choices were made with how the story is told. I also suspect that choices were often made not to stay true to the story but to make the story more marketable. Penguin has promoted the book as “The Korean Charlotte’s Web.” Well…Charlotte’s Web is a classic children’s book. The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly is not for kids. It is an allegory about freedom, conformity, social acceptance, motherhood and sacrifice. These themes, as they are developed here, may not be interesting or appropriate for kids. Also, the book is very dark and very sad.

My analysis of this inadequately translated, dark, sad novel? Here comes the surprise. It is the best book I’ve read this year. It’s the best book I’ve read for a good long time. Why is this book so good? It’s the story—the story transcends the imperfect translation. I was completely captivated by Sun-mi Hwang’s tale of this intrepid little hen. I read the book with a lump in my throat and finished it with tears streaming down my face.

We are introduced to Sprout as a nameless production hen in a battery cage. Her cage’s location allows her to see through a crack in the barn door into the great world. In the brightness of the world just outside the door there is an acacia tree which Sprout watches through the seasons. She’s named herself Sprout after the springtime acacia sprouts. Nobody else knows or cares that she has a name. But naming herself after the sprouts that resolutely become leaves is a way for her to express her yearning for meaning and purpose in her empty life.

She also sees other hens outside the door; fancy show hens, wandering freely in the barnyard with their retinue of baby chicks. The chicks have hatched from eggs like the ones Sprout lays. But Sprout’s eggs roll down the slanted wire mesh floor of her cage as soon as she lays them and then disappear. She desperately wants a baby and she knows she’ll never have one.

Sprout succumbs to cage fatigue, stops eating, discontinues laying her meaningless eggs, is unable to stand and near death. She hears a voice exclaim that “this one needs to be culled. Get it out of the coop.” She doesn’t understand “culled” but she is thrilled by the prospect of leaving the coop. Now she can keep her eggs! Now she can have chicks!

She awakens in a hole, surrounded by dead hens. With horror, she escapes the open grave, barely escapes the clutches of a hungry weasel and finds her way to the farmyard.

The farmyard poultry do not welcome her. The ducks sneer at her. The show chickens are offended by her bedraggled feathers and explain that her purpose is as a battery hen. They declare that she can’t live with them and that she should get back to her cage. The only one to show her any kindness is Straggler, a scruffy wild duck who lives among the domestic poultry and is himself an outcast and at the bottom of the pecking order. Straggler convinces the others to allow Sprout to spend the night. But in the morning, they drive her into the fields with pecks and taunts. As they drive her out, the head rooster glares at her and derisively explains that she’s been culled. “Nobody wants you.”

Sprout abandons the farmyard and lives in the fields. Life there proves to be more fulfilling than she’s imagined. She can wander freely, scratch in the dirt, and snack on caterpillars and plants. But at night she needs to be vigilant and find places to roost that are safe from the treacherous weasel. She is frustrated and saddened that even though she builds beautiful and meticulous nests and dutifully spends time sitting in them, she is unable to lay an egg.

Then she finds her destiny. In a dense briar patch, there is a nest, and in that nest is one perfect egg. She puts the entirety of her little chicken heart into brooding that seemingly abandoned egg. While she is brooding the egg, her old friend Straggler appears, and proving his friendship, brings her fish to eat so she doesn’t have to leave the nest. And he patrols at night to keep her safe from the weasel.

The egg hatches. Sprout is blessed with a baby. And the story segues into a beautiful parable of love, motherhood, and sacrifice that builds to a poignant and bittersweet event that speaks of love, motherhood and sacrifice in an unexpected and profoundly sad conclusion.

The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly may be a simple parable about a small hen, but it asks big questions about life, purpose, and sacrifice. You will find yourself pondering this book in quiet moments long after you close the last page.