Reading Korean literature in era of Korean novelist
Forty years ago, during my first sojourn in Korea, I read Kim Eun-kook’s now well-known novels. “The Martyred,” his first, was written in English, and later translated into several languages. He was one of the first Korea-born writers of note and helped introduce modern fiction by and about Korean topics to the world. Kim was the first Asian writer to be nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature. Published in 1964, “The Martyred” was on the New York Times Bestseller list for 20 weeks. Kim’s works are set during the 1910-45 Japanese occupation, 1950-53 Korean War and Park Chung-hee’s 1961 coup. He taught for decades in universities in the United States.
Korea has a rich and fast-growing library of modern literature. The list of writers of novels, short stories, and other works is long. Korean writers have taken a significant place in world literature. Their translators are also making names for themselves.
These Korean writers, some contemporary and some from times past but reborn through modern editions and translations, not only represent the best of Korean literature, they are being received and honored globally. Many of these Korean writers are equal to the great writers of other cultures and countries.
Over the past few months, I’ve been reading an intriguing selection of books in English translation. The Royal Asiatic Society Korea Branch (RASKB) sponsors a monthly Literature Club. Books are selected by the literature committee, then club members buy the book and read it for discussion.
One of the books I’ve read is Han Kang’s “The White Book,” translated by Deborah Smith. Han’s bibliography is lengthy, with her novels hav- ing been translated into several languages. “The White Book” was on the shortlist for the 2018 Man Booker International Prize but was not selected. Han won the prize in 2016 for her book, “The Vegetarian.”
Jeong Yoo-jeong’s “The Good Son,” translated by Kim Chi-young, is a somewhat gory, but compelling psychological thriller on par with the likes of Stephen King. Some members of the RAS Literature Club were horrified at all the blood and gore. Jeong crafted a truly chilling psychopathic murderer as the protagonist in the story. As a reader, I was drawn in quickly and completely — a roller-coaster of a story.
Similarly, “The Hole,” by Pyun Hye-young (translated by Sora Kim-Russell) has elements of psycho-drama. The tragic story of a man left paralyzed by a car accident, with his whole family dead except for his mother-in-law who resents having to care for him. I found myself in deep empathy with the poor man who was helpless to escape not just the prison of his broken body, but imprisonment by his mother-in-law, who turned out to be not quite so loving.
Anton Hur, a multinational born and raised Korean, is making a name for himself in literature. His translations of “The Court Dancer,” by Shin Kyung-sook and “The Underground Village,” by Kang Kyeon-ae, read so well in English that Hur has been noted as sometimes being “too fluent.”
“The Court Dancer,” is a tragic romance, set in the waning days of the 1392-1910 Joseon Kingdom. The story revolves around a young woman who is appointed to the royal court as a dancer and becomes a favorite of Queen Min. Catching the eye of a French diplomat, she is permitted to marry and leave for France. The story’s historical setting includes many people of import, both Korean and expatriate. Shin, through Hur’s excellent storytelling translation style, makes late 1800s Korea and France almost come to life.
The RAS Literature Club’s next read, “The Underground Village,” is a collection of short stories by an early Korean feminist writer. Kang Kyong-ae (died 1944) spent much of her life in Manchuria with the resistance, fighting Japanese imperialism. Kang was married to a communist, and for several years edited the Manchuria edition of the Chosun Ilbo. Her short stories are true to life and clearly come from her own experiences as well as observations.
Kang was an incredibly perceptive interpreter of her surroundings. The grit of survival Korean refugees faced on the frontier is often painful to read. At the mercy of greedy Chinese landlords, warlords, and conflict among the Korean community itself (communist, democratic, royalist), they were often lucky to find food or shelter.
The RAS Literature Club is open to the public, but having read the book is a requirement for taking part. Contact club coordinator Hong Yon-joo (yonjoo@ajou.ac.kr) for information.