정말????

The other day I caught the 401 bus, just to see where it ran. After a bit, it went by the COEX in Gangnam, which contains a reasonably sized Bandi & Luni. So I hopped off.  After a cup of coffee in a Caffe Bene, I went down to Bandi & Luni look for some exciting new translation I hadn’t previously seen.

I went to the “translated Asian literature” section, which was one panel of a bookcase.

I  was utterly dismayed by incredibly small number of books in translation. There were three big books that I had never heard of, The Dwarf by Cho Se-hui, two books by Kim Young-ha, a soft and hard cover version of Shin Kyung-sook’s Please Look After Mom. And that was it. The total.

In fact, there were more books by Korean-Americans than by Koreans (don’t get me started on the risible notion that Korea seems to have that Korean-Americans are somehow actually Koreans and should count in with native Koreans when book numbers are totalled), with Chang-Rae Lee having all his books represented.

Far worse, Japanese and Chinese literature made up well over three-fifths of the total (please note, in the picture below, that the Japanese and Chinese books are so numerous that they must be stored library fashion, while the Korean works are placed with the front covers facing out).

It was eminently clear to me that Bandi & Luni has no concern at all for the success of translations of Korean literature. There was no Yi Mun-yol, no Park Wan-suh, and no Ch’oe Yun.  This is completely remarkable in a horrible way, and demonstrates that the pure profit motive has completely outweighed what I might call “patriotic” or “branding” approaches to what is stocked in this minute area of the store. This seems foolish at a time at which the number of foreigners is steadily increasing in Korea, and has reached 3%.

In the photo below, the Korean works are outlined in red, works by US authors are outlined in green, and works from other Asian countries are outlined in yellow. It gives a graphic idea of what I am talking about.

Found on the Web

A couple more things found on the web that don’t merit a full post, but deserve being noted.

First, an excellent interview with Yi Mun-yol, possibly Korea’s greatest translated man of fiction (partly because he’s had a relatively large number of works translated, partly because he’s just that good^^). The interview is part of a series with international pioneers among Korean artists that marks the 61st anniversary of The Korea Times.

Among other things the interview reveals that his 문학관 does exist and is open for business, which means that KTLIT will shortly have to take a trip out to it with the camera. There is a bit of orientalized hocus-pocus in the text, but in general it is worth reading and sums Yi up quite well, when it says:

Yi proves to be a most astute student of human psychology, history and sociology, and moreover, a master of transcending self and culture to evoke profound emotions and imagination. His 30-plus books, in the vastness of their genre, style and structure, defy categorization – the more works of his one reads the more impossible it becomes to define his oeuvre.

Announcement of the winners of the LTI Korea/Knopf 5-state Please Look After Mom essay contest. Residents of Connecticut, Delaware, New Jersey,  New York and Pennsylvania were eligible to enter, and a quick look at the winners indicates that either ethnically Asian writers are better writers^^, or more ethnically Asian writers entered the contest.  Sadly, although the contest says the essays will be available on the Korean Cultural Service New York website, they don’t seem to be available to read, which seems to defeat part of the purpose of the contest (though some pictures of the winners can be found here).

Finally, a short piece on Chinese publisher Yilin Press, which has just released translations of Korean fiction:

The last issue, for example, is dedicated to Korean literature. Author Ku Hyo-seo’s novella, Rhapsody in Berlin, forms the centerpiece. Others featured are Young Kong-Ji (The Correct Way of Getting Along with People) and Kim Young-ha (Moving Home).

See you next time, on the web!

http://en.ce.cn/Life/book/201201/06/t20120106_22979590.shtml

• First, as the year began, Korea lost one of its great authors, and one well represented in translation, Park Wan-so. An international literary treasure as well a national one, Park’s literary career  spanned thirty years, and she wrote more than 20 novels and 100 short stories, a fair proportion of which were translated into English. Perhaps her most famous work was Who Ate Up All the Shinga, a semi-autobiographical novel of growing up in and after the Korean civil war.

• The year continued on a not-so great note as KTLIT noted that the Asian Man Literary prize did not include any Korean candidates, and that in fact, most prizes for translation seemed unaware of Korean works.

• Kim Young-ha, one of the most successful Korean writers in English translation, weighed in on the death of 0f aspiring screenwriter Choi Go-eun (a friend of Kim’s), and ended up quitting Twitter and blogging after a series of  online debates with literary critic Cho Young-il. Fortunately, by the end of this year he had at least returned to podcasting, and the news that a translation of his “Black Flower” by Charles La Shure should be published next year is good news to his fans.

• Even better news came in the first quarter of the year when Shin Kyung-sook’s Please Look After Mom, took the English speaking world by storm, hitting the New York Times Top 10 List, making Amazon’s 10 Best Books of the Year list, being published in the United States and Europe, and selling more copies than any other Korean translation ever had. Even better, as Shin’s work rose to the top of the bestseller list, it demonstrably dragged other Korean translations with it, as their popularity rose markedly on Amazon.

• In publication, special mention should be made of the excellent feminist collection of modern fiction by female Korean authors, Questioning Minds. The book was technically published on the last day of 2010, but its sales took place this year.

• Renowned author Yi Mun-yol (and translator Heinz Fenkl) also scored a triumph when An Anonymous Island was published in the New Yorker Magazine.

• LTI Korea, celebrated its 10th anniversary with a conference intended to help lay the groundwork for another successful decade.

• The year continued with a bit of silliness as some members of the GNP called for investigation of author Gong Ji-young for her book The Crucible (later made into a movie and released in the US). The GNP might well dislike Gong, whose politics are extreeeemely left, as her dressing down of protestors celebrating the death of Kim Jong-il demonstrated (Tip of the Hat to “Hidden Connections” for turning this up).

• The year ended with splendid news, as LTI Korea and the Dalkey Archive announced that they were partnering to translate 25 Korean books, which will be released (I think) in 2013.

All in all, a year with more good in it than bad, and it makes me look forward to what the current year will reveal!

Kim Young-ha (김영하)

Just some Kim Young-ha reviews that popped up as I was culling the internet. They like his work, and two of them comment on the covers.

First, perhaps my favorite just because of its title:

Short, Sexy and Suicidal by dardenitaaa over at her fine blog Assorted Paperjams.

She says:

I was drawn to that strong, thesis-statement-sounding title not only because it’s in a lengthy declarative form, but also because there’s obviously something so cynical and defensive about it which, yes, prematurely betrayed a spoiler on the novel plot, but for the most part, intensified its come hither-aura already embodied by its sleek cover design

Which just tickles me pink, since it is one of the marketing points I have often tried to make about most Korea translated fiction – its covers are turnoffs. Good point about the excellence of the title, as well.  But once she began reading, it became more than that:

it was so beautifully written, it’s somewhat painful. Young-Ha Kim has definitely mastered crime aesthetics and the elegance of death as his style and niche. Over-all, I have the right to destroy myself has been an exhilaratingly existential read. It moved me in ways that made me feel sorry for the characters. But above all, it paradoxically evoked a sense of gratefulness in me—I appreciated that I could still appreciate life and all the small things.

So I’m taking that as a thumbs up. ^^

Along the same lines, at Everyday the Wonderful Happens the unnamed author comes right out and admits that she only read “Your Republic is Calling You” because of the cover:

I just finished reading my first Korean novel.  I say “first” as if I have a slew of other Korean novels lined up to read, which is not the case.  This one was a fluke as it was on the new fiction wall at my library, and the cover caught my eye.

Of course, she still liked it^^:

It was really, really good, and I think I’m going to try to read another book by this dude (“I Have the Right to Destroy Myself”) if my library system has it.

The excellent Clare Dudman from Keeper of the Snails talks about “Your Republic is Calling You” and notes the existence of  “Monster” which can be found on his web page. The Keeper says:

On AuthorTrek’s Young-Ha Kim’s page there is a great essay about what the US might mean to some of the rest of the world, and ends musing about the role of writers:
‘Novels and poems allow us to stand in other’s position and see ourselves through their eyes.‘

Young-Ha Kim provides some more good quotes in his book Your Republic is Calling You. I particularly like ‘Life is a continuous cycle of once terrifying things becoming normal.’

Finallly, at Young, there are two reviews of “Your Republic is Calling You,” one that really likes the book and one that finds the author liking the book the next day.  Here’s a money quote:

if you have for the Kindle edition and 5 hours of your time, go and buy the book and while your time away in laughter. If not, it’s worth a call and detour to your local public library. If Korean literature is or will become characterized by this solemn humor, I’ll eagerly await future translations of Korean works.

Interesting to see that people are still coming to Kim’s books – it’s a good sign.

This still seems to be too much of a fight for the disagreement involved, but when the internet gets involved in Korea, any level of escalation becomes possible.

Here is the nearly complete text of the article:

Kim Young-ha (김영하)

His declaration was triggered by the progressive daily Hankyoreh’s report that suggested that screenwriter Choi Go-eun, who died at age 32 on Jan. 28, starved to death. Skeptics doubted the cause of death, with one saying, “How can a young person starve to death (in this modern affluent society)?” Others, however, say Choi was “socially murdered.” A debate has flared up among writers and literary critics over who should provide artists with food and other necessities for living. Kim incurred harsh criticism by saying an artist himself or herself should be responsible, which led him to announce his retirement from writing.

Kim was a professor at Korea National University of Arts when Choi was a student there. Kim claimed that Choi did not starve to death, saying, “I was surprised to find that many people really believe Choi starved to death,” adding, “I heard from Choi’s acquaintances who managed her funeral that the cause of death was not malnutrition, but hyperthyroidism and a seizure resulting from related complications.” Kim added, “Choi was a talented writer and wasn’t incompetent, but died after stubbornly and irresponsibly trying to survive by banking on her self-esteem.”

Amid conflicting interpretations of the cause of Choi’s death, reactions by certain Cabinet ministers and lawmakers are regrettable. Culture, Sports and Tourism Minister Choung Byoung-gug overreacted by promising to improve government treatment and benefits for artists. Quoting a note Choi reportedly left, Special Affairs Minister Lee Jae-oh posted a condolatory note on his blog saying, “Are you (Choi) suffering from hunger in heaven?” Online news sites are perplexed, however. Hankyoreh, which broke the news on Choi’s death, reported that she left a memo asking for “leftover rice” while dying. Her memo that was belatedly made public contained no such expression, however.

Writers fight lies and injustice. One can become a writer when he or she doubts even matters that ordinary people instantly believe to be true or accurate. Kim said, “Making Choi a martyr for art and considering her as an irresponsible artist who didn`t even bother to get a part-time job to earn a living are both extremes that we all should refrain from,” adding, “The belief that one can be forgiven for whatever he or she says just because he or she is an underprivileged person or outsider is a dangerous way of thinking.” It is rare to find a writer like Kim who is courageous enough to criticize irresponsible Web users.

Kim Young-ha (김영하)

There is an article today in the Korea Herald which explains why Kim Young-ha retired from twitter and blogging. In essence, he had an online disagreement with literary critic Cho Young-il about the causes of death, and implications of the death, of aspiring screenwriter Choi Go-eun. This disagreement became pointed, and then apparently spread internet wide. As one looks through the disagreement more closely, it seems to be a bit of a tempest in a teapot, although one with unfortunate results.

On Monday Kim closed his Twitter account, orphaning some 30,000 followers (including this blog). On Kim’s blog (which was on his website at http://kimyoungha.co.kr – the Korean part of his site; The English site seems unaffected) Kim posted an apology to Choi and Cho, and announced that he will no longer be writing online. The twitter feed has disappeared, and while Kim’s Facebook and Website are still online, it is currently unclear to what extent he will continue to contribute to these sites, and to what extent he will continue his unprecedented online contact with his fans.

This is a tremendous loss to Kim’s fans and literature in general, as Kim has been one of the few Korean authors who has consciously and aggressively pursued expanded awareness of Korean culture and literature online in the English speaking world. In fact, I personally think that Kim is an important model in this regard. Lee Oisoo makes a similar effort in Korean, but Kim is the lone soldier in English.

Kim’s last blog post included the lines:

When I started this blog and Twitter a year ago, I had a certain hope that I would be able to communicate with people outside my room, But I should’ve known that I am not someone who is capable of such interaction … I will now take care of my immature ego and dark desires in isolation. … Most importantly, I’d like to ask forgiveness from Go-eun,” he wrote. “I wasn’t a helpful teacher while you were alive. And I’m no help even after you are gone. I am really sorry.

This seems a bit dramatic to Western ears, but may be an attempt to tamp down or deflect criticism that Kim is receiving online. The threat of netizen reaction against a public figure is considerable (ask Tablo) and it would do Kim’s career no good to continue a messy online spat. On February 8th the Korea Times noted that:

Her death is drawing public sympathy and causing a stir on the Internet, with hundreds of netizens posting messages mourning her death.

And to be on the wrong side of that sympathy could be very bad indeed.

According to the Times, the seeds of the online problem had been brewing for some time, since Kim and critic Cho disagreed in the aftermath of this year’s “Sinchun Munye,” Korea’s annual literary contest aimed at uncovering aspiring writers. Kim, in a laudable attempt to encourage those who did not win, posted that a writer should be judged by “their dignity” and not “the recognition of others.” Cho, who was critical of the contest and the difficulty young writers had in entering the Korean fiction market, wrote that Kim’s advice was impractical and unrealistic.
A skeptic might note that a critic such as Cho might well feel threatened by the notion that recognition of writers is not key to writerly success, since a critics entire job (and to be fair, the role of this blog as well) is to become famous by bestowing recognition, thus Kim’s model of an author is one that contains the possibility of marginalizing the role of the critic.

Cho responded that writers should create or join movements to change the current system, to ensure financial success and to fulfill their artistic goals. Kim, essentially, focused on the importance of the writer in a broken system, while Cho focused on the importance of the system.
The really unfortunate thing is that both propositions seem inarguably true, and Kim and Cho seem to be arguing from different sides of an unnecessarily Manichean scale. There are certainly artists who are inner driven, who need no help from a system (Burroughs, Elizabeth Bishop, etc). There are also writers who are entirely driven by approbation, primarily financial (I’m looking at you John Grisham!). But the best writers seem to be those who are driven by both, for example Shakespeare or Dickens.

So, in some sense, the ground for this argument was laid for the silliest reasons.

The Late Choi Go-eun

It sparked up in earnest when aspiring screenwriter Choi Go-eun (Director of “Passionate Sonata” ), a former student of Kim’s at Korea National University of Arts (KNUA and 2007 graduate), died. Choi was found dead in her studio in Anyang after posting a handwritten note on her door asking her landlord for leftover kimchi and rice. Choi apparently died of two diseases (she suffered from hyperthyroidism and pancreatitis), though some claim starvation.

Cho suggested a boycott of Korean movies to force better treatment of screenwriters, while Kim posted that writers should find their own purposes and not wait for social change. Apparently, Kim also noted that Choi died of her disease not starvation, and also apparently suggested that she may have been preparing to die.

The net result of all of this furor is that Kim, correctly or incorrectly, felt that the internet was not longer a productive venue for communication.
I think it is only fair to leave this overview with an eminently sensible passage from the Times article:

Author Kim Sa-gwa, another former student of Kim who had attended his class with Choi, replied, “Why do we have to choose between life and art?” and “Just because one fights against the rules of society, it does not mean his artistic drive has died.”

Kim Young-ha (김영하)

Following twitters from Nanoomi.net this morning (retweeting from the Korean twittersphere) I find the strange news that 김영하/Kim Young-ha has apparently withdrawn from the internet. The Seoul  Newspaper (online)  has an article which says in part:

소설가 김영하가 14일 오후 자신의 블로그에 “오래 못 올지도 몰라요. 다들 잘 지내세요.”라면서 트위터와 블로그 활동 잠정 중단을 선언했다.

which my clumsy translation figures out as (anyone with better version can feel free to send it to me)..

On the afternoon of the 14^th, Novelist Kim Young-ha on his blog.  (saying)“How long I don’t know. Everyone live well.” He declared the discontinuance of twitter and his blog.

The article, which I am slowly plugging my way through, makes reference to abusive language, uncertanties about truth and ‘noise’ on the internet.   Anyone with better skills than me should feel free to translate that better. ^^

A quick trip online reveals that he is off twitter, his website is down, and for the moment his facebook is still up. I wasn’t aware he had a separate blog – so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what this really means…

In the meantime, The Translator has chipped in with this:

This is due to what he posted on his twitter regarding a young screen writer who recently passed away. The screen writer, a former student of Kim, left behind a note that seemed to bef begging others to drop off any left over rice and kimchi at her door (for her to eat). The news media interpreted that to mean that the screen writer died from starvation. Kim pointed out on his twitter posting the direct cause of death might have been an acute disease she was already suffering. Also, Kim alluded to a possibility that the screen writer had prepared to end her own life.

Or, so was the story I read this morning on an internet newspaper.

At any rate, the public sentiment which has already made something of a martyrdom out of the death in criticizing unethical business practices of the movie making industry of Korea is not very kind to Kim’s posting.

So, in other words.. it’s tin-pot netizens going after one of the few really solid international Korean figures.

Siiiiiiiiigh…..

Kim Young-ha (김영하)

Here are links to all of Kim Young-ha’s work that has been translated into English (If you know of any others, feel free to drop a line to “the editor” here at KTLIT):

AVAILABLE ONLINE:

Photo Shop Murder, Whatever Happened To The Guy Stuck in the Elevator, and Moving
http://www.uiowa.edu/~iwp/WRIT/documents/KIMYoung-haCD_000.pdf

Honor Killing http://www.esquire.com/fiction/napkin-project/young-ha-kim-napkin-fiction

Their Last Visitor http://kimyoungha.com/pdf/TheirLastVisitor.pdf
Their Last Visitor http://exchanges.uiowa.edu/archives/spring2007/content/yongha.html

Christmas Carol http://www.liminality.org/writings/carol/

The Man who Sold his Shadow http://wordswithoutborders.org/article/the-man-who-sold-his-shadow/

PUBLISHED

Photo Shop Murder

I Have The Right to Destroy Myself

Your Republic is Calling You

Lizard in Modern Korean Fiction An Anthology (Fulton, Kwon Eds)

Head and Promise in the  TRUST: Media City Seoul 2010 exhibition Catalog

However, I had a wildly entertaining meeting with Kim Young-ha last night. Without being too detailed, I’d say that everything cool about his writing is reflected in his public mien.

I have an hour or two of interview on tape, which unspooled effortlessly, but I  have to sort through those tapes when I return to Korea.

As I think I noted in previous post, Kim is  heading to New York to teach at Columbia University. As we traded (entirely in English, due to my lack of Korean Language skills) views on modern Korean literature I thought how lucky those kids at Columbia will be in that Kim is an energy guy and when he talks about Korean literature his knowledge and enthusiasm nearly overflow.

LOL -our discussion made me wake up this morning and run into my office and spend 8 hours working on my graduate class in translated Korean literature.

Details will follow when I’m back from vacation.

One last random detail. Last night as Kim and I ate at Noxa on Gyeongnidan-gil. A waitress hovered around us and I thought it was possible she knew who Kim was.

I was wrong.

Tonight my wife and I stopped in for a drink and the same waitress was working. I asked her if she remembered “me and the Korean man” from last night.

She did, and pointed at the seat Kim had sat in and kept saying “his face.”

As it turned out, she was  watching Kim  because she thought he was handsome!

The bonus was, when I said his name, she knew exactly who he was and became even more fluttery .

Funny stuff and a great evening.

Details will follow.

He spoke at great length about why he writes, a bit about how, and a lot about literature.

If you’re in New York after September first?   Try to track this guy down.

Kim Young-ha at TEDx

I almost missed meeting Kim Young-ha at TEDx.

It wasn’t until the morning of the actual event that I realized it started at 1PM. Since this recognition occurred to me at 12:18, I was a bit late. Once there, the staff ushered me in to the auditorium so quickly that I did not have time to pick up the little ear-doohickey that would translate things into English. I got into the auditorium and snapped some quick pictures from very far away and through a rail and past several bushy hairdos. A few minutes later, after snapping these shots, I fought my way back out and got the translating device. I heard the end of Kim’s speech from outside, so that the highly amped Korean inside the auditorium wouldn’t overwhelm the speaker in my left ear.

Kim talked pretty generally, at least the part I heard, about the artist in all of us and in creating more than one identity within each of us in order to strengthen that artist. I’m not so concerned I missed all of his talk, because it is supposed to go online with subtitles. Kim was obviously more funny before translation, as on several occasions he had the audience hooting.

As far as I could tell, he was whisked away immediately upon conclusion of his speech, so there was no chance to talk or get an autograph.

This was disappointing, but I decided to stay and hear the other speakers. This turned out to be a wise decision.

When it was lunch break and since I was one of only about 10 obviously foreign faces in the audience, the video woman came to speak to me and when I said I had come to hear Kim Young-ha, she said, “Oh, I think he’s still standing way back over there in the corner.” And, she was right! I went over and introduced myself and we talked briefly.

Kim is slender, surprisingly youthful and was extremely polite. His English is excellent. He was with his wife, who was too shy to be photographed, but Kim allowed me to take a shot. Kim noted that he has just published 13 short stories in Korean which he doubts will be translated quickly. With a laugh he noted that books of translated short stories are not usually very successful in the US. Also, he said, his time in Seoul is drawing short, as he will be soon be going to New York as a visiting scholar at Columbia University. He is also working on a novel which he described as “very dark.” That’s saying something, considering some of the darkness he’s already delivered in his translated work, particularly “I Have the Right to Destroy Myself” and “Your Republic is Calling You.” We began to talk a little bit about “Your Republic is Calling You” and then it was time to go back in for the next set of talks.

I’m still feeling the fanboy excitement of this meeting, which is probably undignified for a 50 year old, but what the heck. How often do you get to meet your favorite Korean author?

Kim also showed up for the after-party at the same table as me, but I felt the I had already pestered him enough and let him enjoy his dinner,