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Books & More 2024 SPRING

Books & More “ The Naked Tree ” By Keum Suk Gendry-Kim, Translated by Janet Hong 320 pages, $29.95, Drawn & Quarterly, 2023 A Beloved Novel Reimagined Cross-media adaptations have a long history. These days, we most commonly see written and graphic works, such as novels and comics, adapted to film or television. Keum Suk Gendry-Kim’s adaptation of celebrated Korean writer Park Wan-suh’s debut novel, The Naked Tree, however, reimagines it through the visual medium of the graphic novel. Park’s original novel is inspired by Park Su-geun (1914–1965), an artist who eked out a living during the Korean War by painting portraits for U.S. soldiers. He possessed artistic vision and genius but it went unrecognized until his death. Told from the perspective of Kyeonga, the author’s alter ego, the novel also deals with the clash of cultures between locals and foreign troops and the changes in social values that characterized the fledgling nation during the Korean War. Acclaimed for its vivid depiction and criticism of society at that tumultuous time, it won the literary prize for women writers offered by the Yeoseong Donga magazine. Gendry-Kim’s graphic novel adds another chapter to the history of this famous work. She intended to stick closely to the original, but the work gradually transformed into something new. The core narrative is the same, but the graphic novel adds a frame to that original story, introducing Park Wan-suh and her husband as characters who are reborn as their alter egos. Gendry-Kim also recreates several Park Su-geun works, inserting them in the core narrative and in the framing sections. This obscures the demarcation between the lives of the real people and the fictional characters based on them, adding further layers and depth to the story. In a novel, the images are created in the mind of each reader, whereas in a graphic novel, readers are treated to the singular vision of the artist. Gendry-Kim captures the Seoul of the Korean War in stark black-and-white drawings that can be haunting, frantic, painful, and beautiful. But she goes beyond simple graphic representation to fully employ the affordances of her chosen medium. For example, she often utilizes bleeds, where the image — in the words of comic theorist Scott McCloud — “hemorrhages and escapes into timeless space.” Gendry-Kim’s bleeds sometimes indicate a literal bleeding of time, signaling a transition in the narrative. Other times they depict the external chaos of the Korean War or the internal chaos of the characters’ hearts. Even when the artist does rely on the panels that form the basic structure of graphic novels, she plays with them in clever ways. When Kyeonga recalls her most painful memory, the depiction of her family members literally bursts out of the edges of the panels as a visual demonstration of how they refuse to remain in the past. Elsewhere, characters rest their arms or hands on the edges of the panels, as if they were part of the scenery. And in the chapter depicting the exhibition of Park Su-geun’s work, frames are reserved for the paintings themselves, while the characters walk and talk in the untethered space around them. Much more could be said of Gendry-Kim’s skill in rendering this beloved tale in a new medium, but the joy of exploration should be left to the reader. Whether you are returning to Park’s novel or discovering it for the first time, this graphic novel is a beautiful window on the work. “ Am I Not Your Sin ” By Choi Ji-in, Translated by Stella Kim 142 pages, ₩10,000, ASIA Publishers, 2023 One Poet’s Struggle Choi Ji-in opens his new collection of poems with a reference to places around the world where “incidents” have occurred: “Jeju, Okinawa, Taipei, Manila, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Madagascar, Haiti, Hokkaido” (“Curve”). War and conflict are woven through every line of this collection, creating a tapestry of memory and history. Through it all, the poet seeks meaning, confessing that “there is nothing that I can do other than to write” (“Curve”) but also admitting the hopelessness of his quest: “We cannot know what life is or what it means to be human” (“A New World”). Conspicuous references to biblical themes, such as “the Lamb of the earth carrying sins of the world” (“The End of Growth”), hint at hope, but ultimately it is an inversion of the wisdom of Confucius that seems most relevant: “I dare ask / about life / How could I know life / when I do not know death” (“Sowing”). Yet through it all, the poet still chooses to love. Whatever hope we might have, perhaps it is in this choice, and in the stories that we hand down so that we might never forget where we have failed. It is these memories that Choi seeks to preserve. “ Danuri Portal ” The World Under One Roof The “Danuri Portal” website offers information about life in Korea in thirteen languages, mainly from Central, East, and Southeast Asia (although English and Russian are also included). As might be guessed from the title — “Danuri” is a combination of the Chinese character for “many” or “multiple” and the native Korean word for “world” — the site is designed to support multicultural families, and the main target audience is female marriage migrants in Korea. However, other migrants will likely find some of the content helpful too. The information can be found primarily in two downloadable PDF books, titled Welcome Book for Immigrants by Marriage and Guidebook for Living in Korea. The former is a short bilingual booklet that summarizes important information for an easy transition to life in Korea. The latter is amore comprehensive monolingual booklet designed to help immigrants adapt to life in Korea. This, too, is primarily for multicultural families and marriage migrants, but much of the information will be useful to any foreign resident of Korea. The site can be a little tricky to navigate at times, but it provides a wealth of carefully prepared and curated content..

Books & More 2023 WINTER

Seeing Ourselves Through the Eyes of Another “Another Person” By Kang Hwagil Translated by Clare Richards 304 pages, £14.99, Pushkin Press, 2023 Seeing Ourselves Through the Eyes of Another It is a fact of life that everyone is the hero of their own story. Some heroes are flawed, of course, and some are tragic, but in the end we are all the protagonists of our own tales. If we could see the world from another person’s perspective, though, we would realize the obvious corollary: We are all, at best, merely supporting actors in other people’s stories. Sometimes we are even the villains. Kang Hwagil delves into this idea in her powerful debut novel, Another Person. Using a fluid perspective to great effect, Kang presents a layered, complex story that invites readers to reexamine their assumptions at every step. The story opens with an unfortunately familiar tale. A young woman, Kim Jina, is repeatedly assaulted by her boyfriend, a senior coworker. Initially, she remains silent, afraid that her office relationship will be discovered. But eventually, she reports the assaults to the police, unaware of how slow and ineffective the legal system can be in cases of violent behavior. In the end, he is fined three million won—a slap on the wrist, in essence—but nothing else happens. Frustrated, Jina goes public, posting her story on an internet message board. Now she must cope with everyone knowing, everyone judging her. It is easy to side with Jina, especially after an almost comically sexist dressing-down from her boss at work (a man who claims he must be a feminist because he believes it is wrong for a man to hit a woman). As the novel progresses, though, we get to see the world through the eyes of other characters in Jina’s story. These chapters give us important glimpses into their psyches and supply some of the missing pieces of the puzzle that is their tangled web of relationships. But they also muddy the waters and undermine some of Jina’s beliefs and assertions. Certain patterns begin to emerge, such as the contrast between the self-doubt and self-blame of the female characters and the unshakable confidence of the male ones. It is effortless to sympathize with Donghee, a former boyfriend of Jina, as he attempts to rise through the ranks of academia, struggling against the machinations of those petty individuals who would unjustly hold him back from his rightful reward. Sure, he’s not perfect, but who is, right? At the same time, it can be difficult to understand the venomous hatred that Jina’s former friend Sujin now has for her. But no story is ever fully black-and-white—there are countless shades of gray in between. This does not mean that right and wrong do not exist. It just means that it is rare for anyone to ever be entirely right or wrong. It is said that bad things happen to good people. Well, they happen to imperfect people too, but that does not make those things any less unfortunate. The story painted in Another Person is nuanced and subtle. There are messages to be discovered, but they emerge naturally from the narrative and thus impact with more force. This novel will take you on a journey; no matter where you might start when you begin reading, you will find yourself somewhere else in the end. And perhaps seeing the world through the eyes of another person will change you. “Bukchon: Poems of Shin Dal-Ja” By Shin Dal-Ja, Translated by Cho Young-Shil 106 pages, $18.95, Homa & Sekey Books, 2023 A Stroll Through a Famous Neighborhood When the poet Shin Dal-ja moved to a tiny house in Gyedong, located in a neighborhood known as Bukchon, she decided to write a book of poetry while her experiences in her new surroundings were still sharp, before familiarity dulled their edges. Bukchon (literally, “North Village”) is a unique place. Situated in the heart of the concrete and glass metropolis of Seoul, it remains tethered to tradition and the past by preserving its hanok, traditional Korean houses. As such, it has become a favorite tourist destination for both locals and tourists. Shin’s poems paint a picture of Bukchon from the inside. There are works that feature famous landmarks from the neighborhood, poems that could almost serve as tour guides for the curious visitor. There is also a strong connection to the enclave. In a hanok, one feels a keen connection to the history and culture of the neighborhood, not to mention the natural environment that our modern buildings shun. At the same time, Shin does not try to hide the realities of life, writing also about illness, loneliness, and old age. Her collection is a walk through Bukchon that goes beyond mere tourism. “Korean Classic Film” www.youtube.com/@KoreanFilm A Treasure Trove for Korean Film Lovers The blockbustere of Korean cinema can be traced back to the 1999 action thriller Shiri, which broke the domestic box office record set by Titanic in 1997. Almost every year thereafter, a new blockbuster emerged to take its place on the throne. Soon the world began to take notice, culminating in Bong Joon-ho’s 2019 Parasite winning the Academy Award for Best Picture. Now you can’t call yourself a film buff unless you have some familiarity with Korean cinema. But Korean film did not burst onto the screen at the end of the twentieth century; it arrived at the beginning. What is the budding film buff to do? Don’t worry, the “Korean Classic Film” channel on YouTube has an inventory that spans time and genres. It is hard to overstate how valuable a resource this is for anyone interested in Korean film. The channel by the Korean Film Archive (KOFA) contains works from the 1910–45 Japanese occupation period to the 1990s, and new films are added regularly. Even better, the films all have optional English captions for those who might need them. This reviewer has been a fan of the channel for many years, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Books & More 2023 AUTUMN

On the Impossibility of Knowing “The Specters of Algeria” By Hwang Yeo-jung, Translated by Jung Ye-won 165 pages, £13.99, Honford Star, 2023 On the Impossibility of Knowing IN 1882, an ailing Karl Marx traveled to Algeria to benefit from the Mediterranean climate. Unfortunately, the weather would not be as salubrious as he had hoped; he ultimately failed to recover. Nevertheless, while in Algeria, Marx rediscovered his passion for writing plays and penned the only dramatic work ever to bear his name: The Specters of Algeria. Marx died soon after in London. One hundred years later, Pak Seonwu discovered the play at a secondhand bookshop in Paris and brought it to South Korea, a nation still in the grip of ideological paranoia. It was only a matter of time before he and his friends would run afoul of the authorities. The Specters of Algeria refers not only to this long-lost play by Marx, but also to the last play staged by legendary playwright Tak Osu before he retired to open a bar called “Algeria” on Jeju Island. Lastly, of course, it is also the title of Hwang Yeo Jung’s prize-winning debut novel. These overlapping layers function as a metaphor for the novel itself, a delicately crafted puzzle box that reveals nothing at first glance and invites the reader to tease out the implications of the layered narrative, poking and prodding at the box to discover its secrets. The novel is divided into four parts, which are narrated by three different characters. “Yul’s Story” follows a young woman as she grows up in the shadow of the play, trying to make sense of the lives of her parents as well as her own. “Cheolsu’s Story” narrates the journey of an uncertain young man as he searches for the truth. “Osu’s Story” consolidates the scattered pieces of the narrative into a possible explanation. The final part returns to Yul as the story takes yet another turn. In some ways, these different perspectives complement each other to paint a more complete picture of what happened, while in other ways they resemble the parable of the blind men trying to describe an elephant—each is influenced by their experience, and none of them has the whole truth. Even Osu, who might appear to have all the answers, seems more concerned with the truth-seeker Cheolsu’s beliefs than with any objective truth. “Every story is a mixture of truth and lies,” he says. “Even when people see and hear the same thing at the same place, they recollect it differently. Sometimes, even what you hear and see and experience for yourself isn’t true.” Though Yul seems to be the character least interested in the play itself, in the end it is she who reassembles the many threads of the narrative. But the result is merely a collection of frayed ends, not a neat and tidy knot. Hwang’s skill as a storyteller is on full display here as she leads us along, revealing enough to pique our interest and curiosity but never laying all her cards on the table. We want to know what really happened, what it all means in the end, but Hwang eschews easy answers. Just as every story is a mixture of truth and lies, so every story is also a kaleidoscope, shards of light refracted through the eyes of whoever happens to be living it. Ultimately, it is impossible to ever know the “truth” of something—and even if we manage to find something resembling truth, that might not be what matters after all. The Specters of Algeria proves the adage that the journey is more important than the destination; this journey is one that will leave the reader with much to ponder “I’ll Give You All My Promenade” By Jeong Woo-shin, Translated by Susan K 71 pages, ₩9,500, ASIA Publishers, 2022 The Price of Remembrance JEONG WOO-SHIN’S collection of new poems, I’ll Give You All My Promenade, takes the reader on a journey of loss, mourning, and the emptiness that follows. It evokes the emotions one feels when walking through the ruins of a once great city, except that this city is a world built by the poet with his beloved, the “you” to whom many of the poems are addressed. This beloved is no longer among the living, and yet remains in everything that is indelibly etched in the poet’s memories, including the spot where the beloved once stayed; the streets where the poet and his beloved once walked together; and the window from which the beloved once stared out. Yet flowers still bloom and wither as they always do. A hair salon closes, and a real estate office opens in its place. In a world that stubbornly refuses to stand still, the poet chooses the pain of remembrance over the healing of oblivion, memorializing that pain and his beloved in this touching collection. The poems represent a promenade worth taking and memories worth sharing. “Imagine Your Korea” www.youtube.com/@imagineyourkorea A Smorgasbord of Delights from Korea THIS YOUTUBE CHANNEL, operated by the Korea Tourism Organization, features a plethora of videos that introduce Korean cities in new and creative ways. The Feel the Rhythm of Korea series highlights popular destinations around the country, leading viewers on energetic tours set to music by Korean artists. The earliest entries showcase the infectious fusion vibes of LEENALCHI punctuated by the eclectic moves of the Ambiguous Dance Company, while the most recent entries are curated by members of K-pop sensation BTS. There are also plenty of videos for Hallyu fans, including tours of Hallyu locations and introductions to Hallyu experiences. Taking a different tack, the Oddly Satisfying Korea series highlights aspects of Korean life and culture that are pleasing to both the eye and the ear. And if you are a fan of international football, there are even a few videos with Tottenham Hotspur forward Son Heung-min. There is a little something for everyone, and most of the videos are short and sweet, providing viewers with quick peeks into areas of interest.

Books & More 2023 SUMMER

Bound Together by the Threads of Fate ‘Beasts of a Little Land’ By Juhea Kim, 403 pages, £8.99, Oneworld Publications: London [2022] Bound Together by the Threads of Fate Juhea Kim’s Debut Novel, Beasts of a Little Land, follows an ensemble of characters through the darkest decades of Korean history, from the early years of the Japanese occupation to the end of the Korean War and beyond. Jade, a young girl sold by her desperate parents to the courtesan house of Madame Silver in Pyongyang, f inds herself whisked off to Seoul, where she is to be raised as a courtesan by Dani. Meanwhile, Nam JungHo, an orphan boy from the countryside, travels to Seoul bearing only two mysterious heirlooms, and there he falls in with a street gang. Jade and JungHo meet by chance, and although their lives are set on very different trajectories, the threads of fate bind and reattach them through the years. These threads are woven throughout the narrative like the vibrant strands of a tapestry. In Korean, these threads are called inyeon, or the relationships that tie people and things together; Beasts of a Little Land vividly demonstrates how all these characters are integrated in the web of inyeon. Kim’s evident love and care for her characters ensures that this inyeon does not veer into fatalism but instead kindles a warm glow of comfort — the sense that, somehow, everything will be right in the end. The novel is also a story about stories. Myth plays an important role throughout the work, whether it is the myth of Dangun, the ancestor of all Koreans, or JungHo’s own personal myth about his father. When Luna, Madame Silver’s daughter and one of Jade’s fellow courtesans, suffers an unwanted pregnancy, she recalls the Dangun myth. But instead of seeing it as an affirmation of her identity, she wonders why the myth only talks about the desperate female desire for children and never about the women who don’t want children. In this way she questions the universally accepted myth and shines a light on its function of social control. On the other hand, JungHo had always assumed that the myth of his father and the tiger was at least partly imagined, but he later discovers that there was more truth to it than he ever suspected. With such a sweeping historical narrative and large cast of characters, it would have been easy for the work to succumb to sentimentalism, but Beasts of a Little Land earns its keep. All of the characters are painted with the brush of truth, and they leap eagerly from the pages. Even the most contemptible of the novel’s villains ultimately reveals a human side; even he cannot escape the web of inyeon that ties him to the others. There is a memorable passage early in the book, when Jade joins Madame Silver’s household and becomes a courtesan-in-training. Although she is perhaps not the greatest singer — certainly not as talented as her friend Lotus — she takes to poetry like a duck to water. She cannot understand how her fellow courtesans-in-training can be so unmoved by the beautiful verses they read and recite. She has been introduced to a world of wonder, and it affects her viscerally: “She fluttered,” Kim writes, “with the knowledge that certain words in a certain order could rearrange her on the inside.” It’s hard not to hear the author speaking through Jade here. After all, it is the essence of Beasts of a Little Land: certain words in a certain order. Kim has fashioned these words into a work so beautiful and musical that the reader cannot help but be rearranged on the inside. ‘Nearly All Happiness: A collection of new poems by Lee Soyoun’ By Lee Soyoun, Translated by Sunnie Chae 89 pages, ₩9,500, ASIA Publishers: Paju [2022] Experiencing the World as a Poet In this collection of twenty poems by Lee Soyoun, we are invited to see the world through the eyes of the poet. It is a world that feels a keen connection with the earth, with all living things, and with the potential for life in all things. Lee is a poet who does not grow a garden but still believes in seeds, and like seeds her love for both the earth and humanity is scattered throughout the poems. It is an interesting approach — hurt by a world in which women are discriminated against, she chooses not to lash out but to embrace everything in love and hope. As the poet writes in a note at the end of the volume, “each writer struggles to endure their own world, albeit in different ways.” Lee Soyoun’s world is one in which everything, no matter how trivial, is in and of itself a poem. To quote her again, “poetry is not a goal but a drive.” That is, poetry is not something that emerges from the poet’s experience of the world; it is in fact how the poet experiences the world. This volume brings her voice to new readers; as her world expands, so does ours. ‘STUDIO KIWA’ Beautiful Melodies in the Graceful Setting of Hanok www.youtube.com/@STUDIOKIWAOFFICIAL Universal Music Korea’s aptly named Studio Kiwa brings musicians from Korea and around the world to perform at a hanok (traditional Korean house), such as the Min family residency in Namsangol Hanok Village in Seoul. Kiwa is the Korean term for the dark tiles that adorn the roofs of hanok, and under these roofs Studio Kiwa assembles an eclectic mix of artists, including both contemporary and classical musicians. While it is not uncommon to see concert pianists performing in grand ballrooms, or indie bands taking to smoky stages before raucous crowds, somehow the simple elegance of a hanok becomes the perfect setting for both. Is it the warmth of the old wooden floors and rafters, or perhaps the quiet beauty of rain dripping from the eaves? Whatever it might be, Studio Kiwa gives us the chance to experience the music we love in a new and unique way.

Books & More 2023 SPRING

‘Sijo: Korea’s Poetry Form’ ‘Sijo: Korea’s Poetry Form’ By Lucy Park and Elizabeth Jorgensen 284 pages, ₩16,000, Parkyoungsa: Seoul [2022] A Traditional Poem for the Modern Era As Mark Peterson point out in this volume, there seems to be a universal appreciation for short poetic forms. The English limerick, for example, is a vehicle for humorous and often bawdy rhymes. Perhaps the most famous short poetic form is the Japanese haiku, which lends itself to meditations on nature with its 17 brief syllables. A strict rhyme scheme juxtaposed against a lilting meter give the limerick a folksy, musical feel, while the extreme brevity of haiku allows for the purest distillation of a poetic idea. While it is difficult to identify exactly why such renderings are so popular, surely the ease of memorization (and thus transmission) plays a role. Korea has its own short poetic form, the sijo. Although not as well known in the West as limericks or haiku, it boasts a long tradition going back to the 14th century. The sijo also contains three lines, but all of them are much longer than those of haiku and structured quite differently. As such, the form allows for more expressiveness and a more complex story than is possible within the strict confines of haiku. For decades, American schoolchildren (including this reviewer, a few decades ago now) have learned and written haiku. Is there room in their curriculum for sijo? This book answers with a resounding “Yes!” Sijo: Korea’s Poetry Form is the product of many years of effort by the Chicago-based Sejong Cultural Society. It is aimed at educators but accessible to anyone who wants to learn more about sijo and perhaps even try their hand at writing some themselves. The first part of the book is a collection of essays by scholars who approach sijo from different angles. David McCann traces the history and development of sijo from the 14th century to the present day, while Mark Petersen compares sijo to other East Asian short poetic forms, namely the Chinese jueju and the Japanese haiku. Lucy Park introduces sijo written in contemporary Korea and North America, as well as a handful of sijo written in German, Tagalog, Russian, Spanish, and Swahili. She also discusses the relationship between sijo and music (sijo was originally envisioned as a song, not a poem) and covers contemporary efforts to introduce sijo lyrics into modern musical genres. Seong-kon Kim notes the difficulties of poetry translation but is hopeful of sijo in English. Lastly, author Linda Sue Park makes a compelling argument for sijo actually making you smarter! The second part of the book will be of particular interest to educators, as it contains a variety of lesson plans for teaching sijo. Here, co-editor Elizabeth Jorgensen’s case studies detailing the sijo-writing process for a couple of her students are especially interesting, and Seo Kwan-ho’s guide to teaching sijo to children is a detailed roadmap for sijo learners. The final part of the book is a collection of award-winning sijo written by students and submitted to the Sejong Cultural Society’s annual sijo-writing contest. Each poem is followed by a note from the author and commentary from a sijo enthusiast. In his chapter, Seong-kon Kim laments, “I miss those days when people communicated with each other in sijo that brilliantly exhibited poetic subtlety and delicacy.” This book is a step toward bringing those days back into our modern, often distracted society. 'Launch Something!’ By Bae Myung-Hoon Translated by Stella Kim 363 pages, £11.99, Honford Star: Stockport [2022] Guarding Humanity’s Final Frontier Everyone knows there is only one sun in the sky… but what do you do when a second one appears, shaped like the old arcade-game character Pac-Man? This is the immediate problem facing Korea’s Space Force. As part of the larger, international Allied Space Force, the Korean unit is tasked with making sure that no satellites in Earth’s orbit are shot down, creating debris fields that could potentially wipe out all other satellites. The crew is a colorful cast of characters. Among them is ace pilot Han Sumin, who turns down private sector offers to remain in the Space Force; intelligence officer Um Jonghyun, who possesses a unique set of skills for analyzing satellite orbits; weather specialist Suh Ga-ul, something of a modern-day shaman who prays for favorable winds; and new recruit Lee Ja-un, a K-pop star who dreams of a different kind of star. They are, in the words of communications officer Kim Eunkyung, “Brilliant people in a stupid system. But people who are trying to overhaul that stupid system in order to do something great.” The crew’s peaceful routine is upended when an assassination plot on the Mars-Earth shuttle is uncovered and the Mars governor-general, known for his brutal suppression of a rebellion by the Mars colony, suddenly decides to return to Earth. Who was the real target of the foiled assassination? What is the former governor-general plotting in his remote research center? And can Space Force Chief of Staff Gu Yemin and her team react in time? ‘K-friends’ kfriends.visitkorea.or.kr Let’s All Get Together! “K-friends” is a global community, under the auspices of the Korea Tourism Organization, that connects fans of all things Hallyu, whether it be K-pop, dramas, film, food, travel, or just Korean culture in general. Joining is easy — just become a member of the K-friends Facebook Group. Once a member, you can earn chingu (friend) points by participating in various events. These points can later be spent at Moija Market, which offers a variety of Korea-related products. Visit the website to learn more about K-friends, see what events they have planned, and peruse some of the most popular posts by members sharing their experiences in Korea or with Korean culture in their home countries.

Books & More 2022 WINTER

‘Violets’ ‘Violets’ By Kyung-Sook Shin Translated by Anton Hur 212 pages, $15.95, The Feminist Press: New York [2022] A Frail Flower Blooms in the City Oh San is born in a small village to a woman abandoned by her husband. An outsider in a village dominated by the Yi clan, San gravitates toward another outsider, a girl named Sur Namae. One day, near a vast minari field, while drying their clothes after playing in a stream, they share an encounter that will change both of them. Namae rejects San and what they shared, but the encounter awakens within San a longing to be loved. Abandoned by her best friend – and by her single mother every time a new boyfriend comes along – San becomes accustomed to betrayal and loneliness. As soon as she graduates high school, she leaves the village for the big city of Seoul. Wanting to be a writer, San applies for a job at a publishing company, hoping to work with the writers she so admires. When this attempt fails, she then turns her attention to a flower shop, where the owner can only communicate by writing. After an odd interview with the owner, San is hired on the spot. The flower shop becomes a place of refuge for San, who finds comfort and healing among the cultivated blossoms. Indeed, she gives the flowers all the love that has built up so achingly inside her, even though, as the owner’s niece points out, watering them too much causes them to rot. Yet not all is paradise among the green plants and colorful flowers. San is content, but in this contentedness she finds that the “ink in her heart” has run dry, and no matter how often she sets pen to paper, she cannot seem to summon the words she wants to write. Also, the flower shop cannot keep out the outside world forever. Into San’s refuge comes Choi Hyun-li, an arrogant, presumptuous man who flirts with her brazenly, and a photographer who is far less interested in shooting the violets he has been assigned to photograph than he is in taking pictures of San. The latter’s appearance in particular is the first wind that heralds the coming of a storm. The only question is whether San will survive the tempest. “Violets” was actually written in 2001, “a time when,” the author explains, “women and stories of women were being systemically discriminated against and silenced.” Seoul has changed considerably in the two decades that have passed since the book’s first appearance in Korea. Some things remain the same – for example, the restaurant, Pomodoro, is still behind the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts. Others, like Korean society, have changed considerably. The #MeToo movement has given women more of a voice, more of an opportunity to tell their stories. But here as well, some things remain the same – stories of such victimization are still being written, and #MeToo is often seen as inconvenient, even prompting backlash among some. Thus, two decades later, “Violets” is still a story that needs to be told and, just as importantly, one that needs to be heard. No doubt it will remain so until that hoped-for day when it is no longer relevant. ‘The World’s Lightest Motorcycle’ By Yi Won Translated by E. J. Koh and Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello 128 pages, $16.00, Zephyr Press: Brookline [2021] Gazing into a Mirror on Humanity “The world’s Lightest Motorcycle” opens a window into the world of avant-garde Korean poet Yi Won. With the English translations presented alongside the Korean originals, it is as transparent a window as one could ask for, and it creates something that is greater than the sum of its parts. Readers who are familiar with Korean will be able to appreciate the challenge of conveying the spirit of Yi’s poetry in another language. These poems deal with timeless and contemporary themes, such as the human experience of time and the interface of humans and machines. The reader will also find symbols flitting in and out of the shadows: a butterfly as the first sign of spring or a camel as a desert traveler; roads that are not simply byways but networks that bind the universe; and mirrors that do not merely f lip left and right, but turn the eater into the eaten. Above all, Yi’s poems defy easy interpretation, such as prose poems like “Time and a Plastic Bag” or “Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick,” which wield commas as a sharp knife to slice sentences into a thousand pieces. These poems are not just words on paper, but living, breathing and pulsing rhythms that force the reader to attend to their music and the images that they create. ‘7707’ Introducing Korean Culture to the World http://www.youtube.com/@7707 Bringing Korean Culture to the World “7707” is a new YouTube channel by the Korea Foundation that introduces Korean arts and culture to the world in colorful and creative ways. There are currently three playlists on the channel, with more to come. “K-Design” features, thus far, three short videos which showcase how design is embedded in various aspects of Korean culture: Korean cuisine elevated to an art form by fine-dining pioneers; traditional soban tables that take advantage of modern sensibilities and materials; and the careful craft of traditional embroidery in clothing and folding screens. In “Shake Your Taste,” sool (a Korean word that collectively refers to alcoholic beverages) sommelier Dustin Wessa introduces the ideal sool for every season and occasion along with the perfect food pairings for each. “Wrap Around the World” celebrates the 90th anniversary of the birth of Nam June Paik, the founder of video art. It weaves performances from new Korean artists into Paik’s original 1988 broadcast of the same title, a live satellite link-up that connected global audiences to the 1988 Seoul Summer Olympic Games.

Books & More 2022 AUTUMN

Secret Files Reveal Altered Human Race ‘The Cabinet’ By Kim Un-su, Translated by Sean Lin Halbert 299 pages, £9.99/$15.99, Nottingham: Angry Robot [2021] (2021) Secret Files Reveal Altered Human Race On the fourth floor of a research center in the heart of the city sits a nonde cabinet, Cabinet 13. Within are 375 files on “symptomers” — people who display signs of evolving into a posthuman species. Some subsist on inedible substances such as gasoline, glass, and steel. Others have peculiar growths on their bodies; one man has a gingko tree sprouting from his finger, while one woman has a lizard growing in place of her tongue. Then there are the “time skippers”; they seem to vanish for days, months, and even years. And the “torporers,” who sleep for incredibly long periods of time; some of them edit their memories to make their past seem more glorious, while others spend their night sending lonely radio messages into outer space. Kong Deok-geun, an administrative worker at the research center, stumbles upon Cabinet 13 one day. Curiosity and boredom compel him to break into it. Little does he know that the cabinet’s caretaker, Professor Kwon, is watching him. But rather than mete out punishment, the professor asks for assistance. He realizes that the symptomers are the future of humanity, the species into which humans will evolve, replacing today’s human configuration. His sole wish is that they not be labeled monsters. Deok-geun spends his days managing the files and dealing with various symptomers, and, in the process, we learn their stories. But when Professor Kwon falls gravely ill, Deok-geun is ill-equipped to take control, and the research project begins to unravel. He is approached by a shadowy organization known only as “The Syndicate,” which regards the symptomers not as monsters but as opportunities. What exactly does The Syndicate want? Has Professor Kwon been hiding something all this time? And what will Deok-geun do when the time comes to choose a side? “The Cabinet” can be a difficult book to pin down, flitting as it does between science and magic, humanity and posthumanism. At its heart, though, it is a meditation on what it means to be human — more specifically, what it means to succeed in this modern, urban society. For as outlandish as some of the symptomers might seem, it is strangely easy to see ourselves in them. Who among us has not stopped to wonder where the years have gone? Who hasn’t sent a message out into the vast void of social media, wondering if there really is anyone out there, or if we truly belong to this world after all? One chapter collects brief anecdotes from ordinary people struggling to make their way in the city, all of them wondering if they, too, are symptomers. As we read through these anecdotes, we realize that the difference between symptomers and non-symptomers is not one of kind, it is merely one of degree. This is just one perspective on the whole, though. Lest we be tempted by an easy answer, Deok-geun reminds us that there is no moral to the story: “We always look for the moral of a story or some nice adage, but morals and adages never changed anyone’s life.” We each connect to the universe in our own unique way. ‘Invisible Land of Love’ By Chonggi Mah, Translated by Cho Young-shil 112 pages, $16.95, New Jersey: Homa & Sekey Books [2022] Reshaped by Relocation The life of Chinggi Mah is not one that would immediately seem to lend itself to poetry. Born in Tokyo in 1939, his adolescent years included Korea’s liberation from Japan and the Korean War. He studied medicine and left Korea in 1966 to be a doctor in America, where he still resided when this book was first published in Korean in 1980. Although his poetry roams far and wide, his life abroad and his life as a doctor heavily influence his works. “Butterfly’s Dream,” for example — a reference to the Chinese philosopher Zhuang Zhou — depicts living in a foreign land as a dream. At other times, it is his memories of Korea, sometimes sweet and sometimes bitter, that fill his dreams, and we can read in his poems the longing for his native land and the restlessness of a wandering soul. Equally as formative are Dr. Mah’s experiences as a physician, and the poems that reference this side of his life — “Discharge from Hospital”, “Illustration • 6”, and “Lecture Room 3”, among them — are powerful meditations on the intertwining of life and death. In the medical profession, he prolonged and sustained lives, but it is those patients that he lost that affected him most deeply. One might expect Dr. Mah, as a man of science, to be clinical, even cold, but the poet in him is always there to make sense — emotionally, if not rationally — of the world. His poetry reaches across the years to touch us still today. ‘East Asia Institute’ http://eai.or.kr/new/en/main Explaining Regional Challenges The east asia institute is a leading Korean think tank that delves into various political challenges facing the region. Relations between North and South Korea, relations between Korea and Japan, and how the current strategic competition between the U.S. and China will affect the other nations in the region are among the many issues they address. This is done through seminars and forums that bring together regional experts; journals that provide an outlet for important research (such as the web journal “Global NK Zoom & Connect”); scholarly monographs; cooperative projects with other nations; and educational programs that seek to train and support the next generation of public policy experts. In addition to its main website, which contains annual reports detailing its activities, the institute also maintains a presence on social media, uploading online seminars, conferences and lectures to YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/c/EAIkorea) as well as posting on Instagram.

Books & More 2022 SUMMER

‘Cursed Bunny’ ‘Cursed Bunny’ By Chung Bo-ra Translated by Anton Hur 256 pages, £10.99, Stockport: Honford Star [2021] A Collection of Haunted Forays “CURSED BUNNY” is Bora Chung’s first collection of fiction to be published in English. Already shortlisted for the 2022 International Booker Prize, it consists of 10 stories that leap gleefully from genre to genre, hurdling boundaries of horror, fantasy, and science fiction. The collection begins with “The Head” and “The Embodiment.” Initially, they seem to be set in worlds that are very much like our own but are revealed to be quite off-kilter as the female protagonists struggle to deal with the horror that emerges from their bodies. While the characters’ concerns are completely understandable, they are in a world that treats their reactions with indifference and scorn. “Home Sweet Home” and “Reunion” take place in similarly magical-realistic settings, but these worlds are suffused with the spirits of the dead, who linger as reminders of tragic pasts and even offer comfort to the protagonists. “The Frozen Finger” is also a tale of ghosts, but the darkness that enshrouds the protagonist serves to blind the reader to what is actually happening, right up until the end. And of course, there is the titular story, a tale of avarice, revenge and a horrifying, cursed fetish that consumes all those entranced by it. “Snare” employs fairy tale framing devices to remove us from the present day and introduces a twist on the classic narrative of an animal that rewards the person who frees it from a trap. There seem to be echoes here of Korean folktales, such as the cruel Nolbu wounding the sparrow in his greed, or stories of voracious fox spirits. “Scars,” the longest work in the collection, also hearkens from the age of legends and fables. It beckons us to follow the protagonist on his journey to discover why he has been subjected to the pain and horror that haunt his earliest memories. “Ruler of the Winds and Sands” is almost mythic in nature, its characters locked in a struggle beyond their comprehension. They experience a reversal of the damsel in distress motif – a brave princess fighting to save her love. “Goodbye, My Love” seems, at first, to be the outlier, the only pure science fiction tale in the collection. It probes our regard for artificial intelligence and how a post-human future may impact us. There are echoes of Asimov here, and the emotionally charged narrative makes this a heartbreaking tale that will linger long after the last page is turned. Though these stories range far and wide in terms of both genre and theme, there are shared threads that bind the stories together. The human body is often presented as a burden, both a mortal coil and a receptacle for society’s demands. Greed and its consequences are another common theme, as we see horrible things happen to those who seek to slake their thirst for more than they should at the expense of others. But these stories are never satisfied with being mere morality tales. Ghosts drift in and out of a number of the tales, but interestingly enough, are rarely themselves the cause of fear or horror (with the notable exception, perhaps, of “The Frozen Finger”). Instead, the ghosts in “Cursed Bunny” speak to the ties that bind us to our world, ties so strong that the essence lingers long after it has departed the corporeal form. If there is horror here, it is not to be found primarily in the weird and supernatural, but in the very ordinary and natural, within the darkest corners of our flawed human nature. Bora Chung’s writing raises a mirror to that nature, forcing us to confront the most unsettling aspects of what it means to be human. When the book has been closed and the lights extinguished, these glimpses will linger in the darkness. ‘Cold Candies’ By Lee Young-ju Translated by Jae Kim 96 pages, $16.00, Boston: Black Ocean [2021] Piecing Fragments of Life Together “COLD CANDIES” Introduces poems selected from two decades of Lee Young-ju’s work to the English-speaking world. These prose poems straddle the border between narrative and lyric, each encapsulating a brief story or fragment of a story couched in slippery yet evocative language. Reading them feels almost like looking through a kaleidoscope – thoughts, memories, and emotions fragment into splintered shards that gleam as the light shines through them. Lee plays with words like an impressionist toys with paints, refusing to carve distinct lines that would allow interpretation. As we allow the words to wash over us, only then do the images become clear. But there are indeed evident themes in these paradoxical scenes. Death is ubiquitous and accompanied by its natural conclusion, decay. And yet, the sweet, musty scent of rot is understood as part of the cyclical nature of life. Fluids flow through the poems like a river: water in its many forms, but also bodily fluids – tears, blood, urine. The body itself is a source of pain, but also fertile soil from which things might grow, like the bone that grows from a young girl’s back into a crescent moon, or mushrooms that grow from rot to blossom into mysterious, interconnected life. As the collection comes to a close, the final poem paraphrases the Buddha: “All that we are is the result of what we have thought.” “Cold Candies” indeed presents us with a multitude of paths to becoming. ‘world without sound’(Gonseonggye) Lim Hee-yun Culture Reporter, Dong-A Ilbo By BBIRIBBOO, EP album, Free Streaming via Melon, Apple Music, and YouTube, Seoul: CAIOS (2022) World Emptied of Sound The album title “GONGSEONGGYE” is a word coined by BBIRIBBOO, a Korean traditional music fusion band. It means “world without sound.” This debut album, released in early 2022, depicts a journey in search of an imaginary world. The group consists of two piri (double-reed oboe) players, Kwon Sol-ji and Son Sae-ha, and Heven, a bassist and producer. Like other piri players, they play the taepyeongso (conical oboe) or the saenghwang (free-reed mouth organ with 17 bamboo pipes) depending on the piece of music. “Iraiza,” the first piece, is the highlight of the album. It announces the advent of BBIRIBBOO in the world of music. In the beginning, dark and damp electronic tones reminiscent of the dark ambient genre paint the vast interplanetary space in black as if with an ink brush. Then, two taepyeongso combine for a sound like a rocket being launched. The hi-hat and bass beat go wild with a sense of urgency, flailing like a whip. “Eunneuny” involves ambient sound recast as healing music. The two piri swim like mysterious jellyfish navigating the depths of the ocean, producing a dazzling melody in a major key alongside a calm harmony. “In Dodri” is a variation on the melody of “Yangcheong Dodeuri” from “Celebrating Eternity” (Cheonnyeon manse), a suite enjoyed by the royal court and upper classes of the Joseon Dynasty. This is the only dance music on the album, with a funky bass line and beat. The album is an impressive first step in BBIRIBBOO’s musical journey. However, the road ahead looks difficult. Acts such as Jambinai, Park Ji-ha and HAEPAARY have already attracted a lot of attention, so BBIRIBBOO will need to be bolder and more challenging in the future.

Books & More 2022 SPRING

‘Lemon’ ‘Lemon’ By Kwon Yeo-sun Translated by Janet Hong 147 pages, $20.00, New York: Other Press [2021] More Than a Gripping Murder Mystery Novelist Kwon Yeo-sun’s English-language debut, “Lemon” opens in an interrogation room, where Han Manu is being questioned about the murder of one of his classmates, a beautiful girl named Hae-on. To be more precise, the novel opens in the mind of Hae-on’s younger sister, Da-on, as she imagines what must have happened in the interrogation room in 2002. She knows that Manu is a little slow, and she imagines that his seemingly inconsistent statements must have convinced the police that this boy was the murderer. There is another suspect, the rich and popular Shin Jeongjun, but he is quickly cleared of suspicion when his alibi checks out. Yet, with insufficient evidence to charge Manu, the case, known as “The High School Beauty Murder,” remains unsolved. Da-on spends the next 16 years reliving every detail in the hope of finding some resolution. Don’t let this brief synopsis fool you, though. This isn’t a crime novel, or at least it isn’t a mere whodunit. The question of who killed Hae-on is explored throughout the book, but a far more important question is what Da-on asks herself in the first chapter: “What meaning, then, could life possibly hold?” When the maelstrom of emotions that enveloped her after her sister’s death subsides, she finds herself still tormented by guilt. A psychiatrist might label this “survivor’s guilt,” but for Da-on it runs deeper, as she wonders if she ever even loved her sister. Perhaps most painful of all is the realization that, no matter what the case might be, she can never go back and change what has already been decided. Although Da-on narrates half of the book’s chapters, she isn’t the only point-of-view character; two chapters each are narrated by Sanghui and Taerim, classmates of Hae-on. Sanghui isn’t close to Hae-on, but her relationship with Daon gives us a different perspective on the younger sister. Taerim is more directly involved in the case: she was with Manu when she last saw Hae-on, and she eventually married Jeongjun. We only see Manu and Jeongjun through the eyes of the female characters, so their stories remain somewhat shrouded in mystery. But perhaps the most notable absence is Hae-on herself. As the victim that gives the story its purpose, she is the main character, but never speaks for herself, and we are never given a glimpse into what is going on inside her head; we only know what the other characters think of her. In the end, she is a cipher onto which they project their dreams and desires, their fears and insecurities. The author has skillfully crafted a story that draws the reader in and maintains the suspense of a murder mystery as the fragments slowly but surely mesh. Yet as the picture emerges, we become ever more aware that the true mystery is how human beings deal with loss, tragedy and grief. We never lose sight of the horrible crime that occurred on a summer day in 2002, as the Korea-Japan World Cup drew to a close, but as time marches inexorably on with each chapter, ending 17 years later in 2019, we realize that no “solution” to the mystery will change things for the survivors. For Da-on, Sanghui and Taerim, the journey will never end, at least not until they join Hae-on on the other side of the line that separates the living from the dead. And when the last page has been turned, neither will this story end in the minds of its readers. The questions – and the answers that we all must find – will continue to haunt us. ‘Tiger Swallowtail’ By Hwang Gyu-gwan Translated by Jeon Seung-hee 111 pages, 9,500 won, Paju: ASIA Publishers [2021] Poems for Souls Longing for a New World “I have long thought about how poems can change our actual world,” writes Hwang Gyu-gwan in an essay at the end of this new collection of his poems. He does not write merely to ref lect on life and the world around him, but to make a real difference. He is not optimistic about the direction our world is taking, and he sees modern capitalist society as a bane rather than a boon. In his poetry, capitalism stands in stark contrast and opposition to nature in particular; in “Let’s Set the Forests Free,” for example, he argues for the removal of human civilization from the forests, ultimately calling for them to be “our new lords” and we “their foolish subjects.” Perhaps the most urgent picture of our endangered environment can be found in the opening lines of the titular poem: “The rainy season does not end; the sea is boiling; Alarmed, glaciers are crashing down, and continents burn.” But the poet refuses to wallow in hopelessness and despair, instead seeking a radical way forward. His two poems about roads, one borrowing Frost’s famous (though often misquoted) title and the other singing of a “road newly taken” (“Toward the Direction of Daybreak”), speak to this journey. Hwang’s poems have many layers that do not surrender all of their secrets easily, but they will reward the careful reader and the soul longing for a new, changed world. Seoul 4K Walker YouTube http://www.youtube.com/c/seoul4k A Perfect Cure for Your Pandemic Blues As the COVID pandemic enters its third year, many are yearning to travel the world again. Perhaps you’ve never been to Korea but you’re curious. (You must be if you picked up this magazine!) Or maybe you’ve been to Korea before and wish you could go back. You might even be here already, but unable to travel around the country as much as you did before. This YouTube channel could be just what you need. Launched in the summer of 2020, it’s the perfect antidote to your pandemic blues. Most of the walks offered here are of course located in Seoul, giving viewers a glimpse into everyday street scenes in the bustling metropolis. Gangnam in particular is recommended, if you’re curious about what “Gangnam style” really looks like. But there are numerous videos filmed outside of Seoul as well. Haeundae Beach in Busan, the romantic night streets of the seaport Yeosu, the traditional hanok houses of Jeonju and Hwaseong Fortress in Suwon are just a few of the many highlights. Without question, nearly all of the videos are in 4K, making them perfect for viewing on larger screens as well. Experience for yourself the colorful and vibrant scenes of Seoul and beyond throughout Korea.

Books & More 2021 WINTER

‘The Disaster Tourist’ ‘The Disaster Tourist’ By Yun Ko-eun Translated by Lizzie Buehler 186 pages, £8.99, London: Serpent’s Tail [2020] An Eco-Thriller Leaves Disturbing Questions Having been tied down by a pandemic for the past year and a half, many of us are dreaming of the trips we will take when we finally emerge into the new normal. But what if, instead of a tropical beach or an old city, your next destination were an area destroyed by a recent earthquake, a city swept away by a tsunami, or even a community sucked into the earth by a sinkhole? This is the premise of Yun Ko-eun’s novel, “The Disaster Tourist,” in which the protagonist, Yona, works for Jungle, a company that organizes just such package trips. Why on earth might one want to visit a disaster zone? Jungle’s customers aren’t necessarily lovers of the macabre or those who revel in the misfortune of others. Some, like a college student, see an opportunity for “ethical tourism” to help devastated communities. Others, like an elementary school teacher who brings along her five-year-old daughter, hope the experience will be an educational one. Sometimes it can be as simple as the desire for something different from one’s dayto-day life. But there are deeper forces at work as well, Yona knws; being in such a shattered place reinforces the ever-present threat of disaster and also reaffirms that the traveler is indeed still alive. It’s the joy of not having been chosen in the lottery of natural disasters. This hits rather close to home for this group of travelers, whose trip comes shortly after a tsunami crashes into the coastal Korean town of Jinhae, a disaster never witnessed by the reader through the eyes of any of the characters but whose horrible aftermath is felt throughout the book. Turning their backs on the calamity at home, the travelers embark on a trip to the island of Mui, off the coast of Vietnam. Yona is unique among the group in that she isn’t there of her own accord. Having been sexually assaulted by her boss and realizing she’s been marked as undesirable at her workplace, she submits her resignation. To her surprise, though, she is given a month off and sent on one of the company’s holiday packages – not as a customer, but to evaluate whether the package should be discontinued. So she travels to Mui with the others, where she encounters an old sinkhole, a rather unimpressive volcano and a reenactment of a massacre perpetrated by one tribe on another, and stays in the home of a member of the victim tribe. Yona’s story would have been relatively unremarkable had she returned to Korea as planned to submit her report. But a moment of carelessness separates her from her group on the way to the airport, and she finds herself stranded in rural Vietnam. Another such moment leaves her without her wallet and passport, stolen by a pickpocket. Berating herself for being the incompetent traveler she has always so despised, she makes her way back to Mui – where she uncovers a chilling reality beneath the surface of life on the resort island. The novel combines an unsettling tale of twisted plots with cutting social commentary that will leave you haunted and contemplative, especially if you’ve ever traveled abroad on holiday. What exactly do we want when we look for a “genuine” experience, and what lies behind the facade that has been carefully constructed to satisfy our desires? What happens when a community finds itself wholly dependent on an industry that threatens to swallow it whole, like a gaping sinkhole? As the story barrels toward its conclusion, still shrouded in its own gravity, you will find yourself simply trying to hold on. Even after the last page is turned, the book and the questions it raises will stay with you. ‘Homo Maskus’ By Kim Soo-yeol Translated by Brother Anthony of Taizé 73 pages, $10.00, Seoul: Asia Publishers [2020] Human Prism on Jeju and Beyond This is a short collection of new poems by Kim Soo-yeol, who hails from Jeju Island, off the south coast of Korea. This fact may not seem immediately important, but Jeju has always occupied an unusual place in Korea: part of the nation, but on the periphery and often pushed to the margins. Jeju pulses through Kim’s poetry here, exemplified by “Offerings for the Dead,” “Decalcomania” and “Farther than the Moon,” which give us glimpses into life, death and history on the island. Yet, Kim’s poetry goes beyond History with a capital “H.” Tragic events such as the April 3 Massacre on Jeju in 1948 and the Gwangju Uprising in 1980 are viewed through the tightly focused lens of history on a much smaller, more individual and more human scale. Kim also reaches beyond Jeju, writing of a “Berlin Morning” or “A Day in Copenhagen,” or telling the story of an old man “In Gaoan Village,” China. Indeed, while the poems feel very Korean – and more specifically, very Jeju – they also seem to touch every corner of the earth. This is in part because the other themes the poet explores, such as old age and death, are so universal. The collection ends with two poems, including the eponymous “Homo Maskus,” that will no doubt strike a chord with readers struggling through the pandemic. The Halfie Project By Becky White and her Halfie Project team www.thehalfieproject.com Sharing and Exploring Hybrid Cultural Identity The halfie project, in the words of its creator Becky White, is part art and part research. On the one hand, it’s an exercise in telling people’s stories, and on the other, an inquiry into questions of identity – specifically what it means to be half-Korean. Half-Koreans are often in an awkward position, as they (to borrow White’s words) “belong to both worlds, but don’t belong to anywhere at all.” That is, when in the culture of their other half, they are considered Korean or Asian, whereas when they come to Korea, they are seen as foreign. The project focuses on those common experiences and questions, seeking to create a space where those of mixed cultural backgrounds can come together to share their stories and talk about issues of identity and belonging. The team has a website, which is home to “The Halfie Project Podcast,” as well as a YouTube channel and Instagram. Interviews with other half-Koreans form the backbone of the content, but they also tackle questions of Korean identity, such as trying to define slippery concepts like nunchi or han, and offer insightful cultural commentary on important issues including mental health. If you are half-Korean – or half-anything, as the team welcomes all – or are simply interested in issues of mixed cultural identity, this project is for you.

Books & More 2021 AUTUMN

An Armful of Understanding for Connections An Armful of Understanding for Connections “My Brilliant Life” By Ae-ran Kim, Translated by Chi-Young Kim, 203 pages, $14.00, New York: Forge Books [2020] This 2011 novel by Kim Ae-ran tells the story of a young man named Areum and his brief but brilliant life. He suffers from premature aging; at 16, he already has the body of an 80-year-old man. What this story is about, though, is much deeper. Areum is obsessed with a task he hopes to complete before his 17th birthday: to write the story of his family. He begins with the story of how his parents met, gleaned from what they have told him. He is a keen enough observer to notice that their stories do not match up in all details, though, and mature enough not to be tempted to take one side or the other. He is, in fact, “on the side of the story,” as if the story were something that existed separate from the people who tell it. No story is told without a motive, even if that motive is simply to entertain. For Areum, the story is a gift he intends to give to his parents, since he will not live long enough to win awards or earn a college diploma. Like any eager child, he wants to impress his parents, and he imagines that they will marvel at his rich vocabulary and elegant sentences. But this is only the surface layer of his motivation. When he appears on a television program featuring people in need, he ends up feeling wronged because he looks so much better on TV than what he feels inside. Thus he learns what it’s like when someone else tells your story. As a result of the program, he receives an email from another critically ill teenager, a girl named Seoha. When she reveals in their email exchanges that her secret dream is to become a writer, Areum’s motivation to tell his family’s story is renewed. This is another level of his desire to write his story: the desire to form connections with others. We may try to impress others when we write, but what we really want is for them to understand us. Understanding is the connective tissue that draws the whole universe into a single living being. Without it, we are all discrete entities, islands adrift in a cold sea. Once we understand, though, we see that we are all connected in ways we might never before have imagined. So while the story of Areum is necessarily a sad one, it isn’t tragic – or, at least, the connection we end up feeling with Areum and his family elevates it above tragedy. There are no easy answers to the questions that Areum faces, but embarking on the journey with him as he seeks them is rewarding. We feel the fullness of his brilliant life as he lives it to the best of his ability. In fact, his name in Korean means “an armful,” and this seems apt; to read this novel is to embrace Areum and his family, and our arms become so full that all we can do is hold on tighter. A Bitter Love Song to Hope “Hope is Lonely” By Kim Seung-Hee, Translated by Brother Anthony of Taizé, 129 pages, £10.79, Lancashire: Arc Publications [2021] The poetry of Kim Seung-hee, translated into English here by Brother Anthony, can be uncomfortable, even disconcerting to read, but like all good poetry it inspires a strong emotional response in the reader. This collection, which brings together selected works from Kim’s last two collections in Korean, “Hope is Lonely” and “A Croaker on a Chopping Board,” takes a somewhat unique approach to poetry translation: it presents the Korean original and the English translation side by side. This is in recognition of the fact that, as the editor notes, translated poetry is neither English poetry nor foreign poetry, but something else entirely – something that does not replace the original but exists in an almost symbiotic relationship with it. The collection has much to offer even to those who may not be able to read the original texts. While the poems might at first seem dark and sad, sometimes even chilling, there is hope and healing on the other side. The titular poem, “Hope is Lonely,” appears on its face to be a paean to despair, but a closer reading shows that it is a bitter love song to hope. Despair is easy, but hope is hard, and yet the poet refuses to abandon it, calling it a “life sentence.” We may be reading Kim’s poems in translation, but her voice rings out, shaking us to our senses and pointing us toward the light. A Resonant YouTube Channel on K-Pop and More “DKDKTV” By David Kim and Danny Kim, YouTube DKDKTV got its start in 2016, when creators David Kim and Danny Kim decided to combine two popular trends: K-pop and reaction videos. Ironically enough, they weren’t originally fans of K-pop, but after developing an interest in groups like BTS, Big Bang and EXO, they began reacting to popular K-pop videos, offering their Korean perspective to an English-speaking audience. As these videos gained traction, the channel began to branch out into other video series. Today, DKDKTV has over 700,000 subscribers and a loyal fan base with its own moniker: the Ducks. Danny, David and other regular and guest hosts bring the Ducks the latest news and happenings in the K-pop world. A good place to start is the weekly news program, “DK News.” For more in-depth discussion, there is KSTea, an hour-long livestream where the duo “spills the tea” on the K-pop world with co-host and former K-pop star Christine Park (aka Soobeanie). David and Danny also create explanatory videos for foreign fans, such as the two series, “KPOP Explained by a Korean” and “KPOP History Explained.” Although the channel focuses primarily on K-pop, Danny and David have a wide variety of interests and often venture to try new video ideas. One particularly interesting series is “DK Asks,” where a reporter conducts “man (or woman) on the street” interviews to get an idea of what younger Koreans think about outstanding issues. Charles La Shure Professor, Department of Korean Language and Literature, Seoul National University

Books & More 2021 SUMMER

The Dark Abyss of Human Relationships The Dark Abyss of Human Relationships Bluebeard’s First Wife By Ha Seong-nan, Translated by Janet Hong, 229 pages, $15.95, New York: Open Letter [2020] This short story collection by Ha Seong-nan is a journey into the darkest depths of human relationships. The prose is often dream-like, painting lyricalportraits of loss, isolation and despair, eschewing a rigid narrative structure in favor of a gossamer web of vignettes designed to evoke rather than proclaim.Thus we feel the impact of her tales on a deeply emotional level, sharing in the pain and heartbreak that many of her characters experience. Ha’s characters have complex relationships with the world around them. This world is not simply a cruel, impersonal force that will crush the individual without a second thought; it is very clearly made up of other human beings, wherein lies the great horror of existence. Sometimes these people aredistant “others,” such as children running around in the apartment upstairs, city poachers terrorizing a small mountain village, or a fiancé’s mysteriousgroup of friends. At other times, they are those closest to us: husbands, wives, daughters, sons. Whether these “others” are near or far, a major theme running through this collection is our inability to ever truly know anyone else. Even those we think we know the best may be harboring some dark secret −perhaps we would just rather not know and stay safe in our delusions. There is an argument to be made for the latter interpretation, given the actions of the protagonists themselves. A policeman dispatched from Seoulto an isolated mountain village treats the villagers as strange and inscrutable, making no effort to become part of their community. A couple that hasmoved to the outskirts of Seoul in pursuit of an idyllic lifestyle with a green lawn cares more about their dog, running around on that grass, than theirdisabled son, who cannot even walk. In these characters, we can see reflected our human tendency to shun that which does not live up to our dreams orexpectations. While we would be hard pressed to call these and other protagonists sympathetic, we also cannot fail to recognize that they are, after all, onlyhuman. Another thematic thread that runs through the collection is the “outskirts.” Most of the stories are set either on the outskirts of Seoul or farther off in thecountryside. Even those tales that start in the city often move beyond the city limits. This migration to the margins may happen for any number of reasons.Whatever the case, once we leave the city, we find ourselves in an uncertain liminal space where the usual rules of society do not apply.Ha’s tales will likely leave you unsettled, but with much to ponder.Because they often refuse to drive straight at the point, or to even claim that there is a single point, they will reward continued exploration and repeatedvisits. A Welcome Study of a Significant Era of Korean Art Korean Art – From the 19th Century to the Present By Charlotte Horlyck, 264 pages, $60.00, London: Reaktion Books [2017] This book doesn’t attempt to be, in the author’s words, a “definitive, encyclopaedic reading” of Korean art during the 100-odd years from theend of the 19th century to the beginning of the 21st century. Instead, it focuses on important milestones in this tumultuous time in Korea’s history. Throughout it all, Horlyck delves into how art has related to the search for a Korean identity. The first chapter illuminates the final years of the Joseon Dynasty, when Korea emerged as a modern nation and art became increasingly politicized. The second chapter discusses the colonial period, during which the perception of art shifted from something monopolized by theelite to something that could belong to everyone. The third chapter deals with the development of socialist realist art in North Korea after WorldWar II, driven by the ideology of Kim Il-sung. The fourth chapter parallels the third, covering the same period in the South, where abstract art came to the fore. The fifth chapter introduces minjung art, or the “art of the people,” in the 1970s. The sixth and final chapter sheds light onchanges in the way Korean artists have been approaching their task over the past few decades. Taken as a whole, the book is a welcome introduction to a period in Korean art that might not get due attention. It also deserves recognitionas a rare endeavor in English. Soothing Tones of Familiarity and Freshness 2020 JAZZ KOREA FESTIVAL LIVE at Boomiz Song Ha Chul Quartet, CD (27 minutes), Streaming for free on YouTube and iTunes, Seoul: Gatefor Music & Art [2021] This EP by the Song Ha Chul Quartet, released in February 2021, is a liverecording of a performance at the Jazz Korea Festival, hosted by the KoreanCultural Center in Ankara, Turkey. The festival was held online in November2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic.With its clean, pastel tones, the album is not just for fans of “Koreanjazz,” but for everyone familiar with jazz, and even newcomers.The first track is “Straight Life,” which is also the title track of the quartet’s 2017 debut album. Following Suh Soo-jin’s funky drum performance,Song Ha-chul’s saxophone announces its presence with a bold, distinct soundreminiscent of Hank Mobley.“Marionette,” featuring the saxophone played over Lim Chae-sun’sdreamy piano, is superbly beautiful, with the atmosphere of Stan Getz’s“Manha De Carnaval.” Like the familiar passage of time, worn down dayafter day, the piece drifts to a lonely end.In “Going Up,” Lee Dong-min makes a placid opening with his bass,and Song Ha-chul’s saxophone rushes in with a sound as puffed up as cottoncandy. The next song is “Somebody’s Gold Fishery,” where the saxophone’sagility and warmth combine assertively to take the mood to its peak. Charles La ShureProfessor, Department of Korean Language and Literature, Seoul National University Ryu Tae-hyung Music Columnist

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