Excerpt from The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Grandmother Seolmundae watches over us all," we chanted.

"She tested herself in many ways, as all women must," Shaman Kim told us. "She assessed the waters to see how deep they were, so that haenyeo would be safe when they went to sea. She also searched ponds and lakes, looking for ways to improve the lives of those who worked the fields on land. One day, attracted to a mysterious mist on Muljang-ol Oreum, she discovered a lake in its crater. The water was deep blue, and she could not begin to guess its depths. Taking one big breath, she swam straight down. She has never returned."

Several of the women nodded appreciatively at the good telling of this story.

"That's one version," the shaman continued. "Another says Grandmother Seolmundae, like all women, was exhausted by all she did for others, especially for her children. Her five hundred sons were always hungry. She was making them a cauldron of porridge when she became drowsy and fell into the pot. Her sons looked everywhere for her. The youngest son finally found all that remained of her—just bones—at the bottom of the pot. She had died from mother love. The sons were so overcome that they were instantly petrified into five hundred stone outcroppings, which you can see even today."

Do-saeng silently wept. The story helped one suffering mother to hear of another suffering mother.

"The Japanese say if Grandmother Seolmundae existed and if that oreum was the water pathway to her underwater palace," Shaman Kim went on, "then she abandoned us, as have all our goddesses and gods. I say she never left us."

"We sleep on her every night," we recited. "We wake on her every morning."

"When you go into the sea, you dive among the underwater ripples of her skirt. She is the great volcano at the center of our island. Some people call it Mount Halla, the Peak That Pulls Down the Milky Way, or the Mountain of the Blessed Isle. To us, she is our island. Anywhere we go, we can call to her and weep out our woes, and she will listen."

Shaman Kim now directed her attention to Yu-ri, who had not once stirred.

"We are here to help Yu-ri with her traveling-soul problem, but we must also worry about those of you who've suffered soul loss, which happens any time a person receives a shock," she said. "Your collective has experienced a terrible blow. None has suffered more than Yu-ri's mother. Do-saeng, please kneel before the altar. Anyone else who is in anguish, please join her."

My mother knelt next to Do-saeng. Soon the rest of us were on our knees in a circle of anguish. The shaman held ritual knives in her hands from which white ribbons streamed. As she sliced through negativity, the ribbons swirled around us like swallows through the air. Her hanbok ballooned in clouds of riotous color. We chanted. We wept. Our emotions flowed from us accompanied by the cacophony of cymbals, bells, and drums played by Shaman Kim's assistants.

"I call upon all goddesses to bring Yu-ri's spirit back from the sea or wherever it is hiding," Shaman Kim implored. After making this request another two times, her voice changed as Yu-ri inhabited her. "I miss my mother. I miss my father and my brother. My future husband ... Aigo ..." The shaman turned to my mother. "Diving Chief, you sent me here. Now bring me home."

The way Yu-ri's voice came out of Shaman Kim's mouth sounded more like blame than an entreaty for help. This was not a good portent. Shaman Kim seemed to acknowledge this. "Tell me, Sun-sil, how would you like to respond?"

My mother rose. Her face looked taut as she addressed Yu-ri. "I accept responsibility that I sent you into the sea, but I gave you a single duty that day: to stay with my daughter and help the Kang sisters as they looked after Mi-ja. You were the eldest of the baby-divers. You had an obligation to them and to us. Through your actions, I could have lost my daughter."

Excerpted from The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See. Copyright © 2019 by Lisa See. Excerpted by permission of Scribner. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.