
Barry Welsh
I have been living in Seoul for 5 years now and one of the things that has most enriched my life here has been reading Korean literature in translation. Korean literature is, I believe, underappreciated on the international literary scene. However, if you are not reading Korean fiction then you are missing out. Reading Korean fiction gives you an incredible insight into the fascinating, maddening world of Korean life. I actually picked up my first Korean novel quite by accident. The book was Kim Young-ha’s 'I Have the Right to Destroy Myself' and it greatly enriched my appreciation of the modernity obsessed culture of Seoul.
I was browsing in Kyobo Books one day when I was struck by ‘I Have the Right to Destroy Myself's bizarre title and strange cover art. Several fans of Korean literature regularly complain about the often uninspired book covers given to translated works of Korean fiction. But ‘I Have the Right to Destroy Myself’ has a great image on the cover. It is a composite image of two photographs that together depict a spectral figure silhouetted against a blood red moon whilst suspended over a night-time cityscape of Seoul. There was something about the image that captured the bizarre sense of alienated, disconnected reality one can experience while living here. It was certainly a feeling I understood having only just moved to Seoul from a small island in the Irish Sea. As I dazedly wandered the streets in my first few weeks here I saw around me a city obsessed with modernity and consumerism. And upon reading ‘I Have the Right to Destroy Myself’ I was gripped and captivated by how the novel reflected this through an ultra-modern depiction of Seoul. When I lived in London it was exciting to visit the famous literary landmarks or go on The Dickens Tour which takes you around the famous locations from Charles Dickens’ novels. Even when I moved to Edinburgh for the first time it was fascinating to visit the fictional crime scene locations from Ian Rankin novels. If you have read the literature inspired by a city, it adds layers of meaning to your daily experience of living there. In this way I was so enthralled by ‘I Have the Right to Destroy Myself’ that I even visited the neighbourhoods mentioned in the story. I would sit in Insa-dong tea shops with my copy of the book imagining myself a protagonist in my own modernist tale of life in Seoul. The reality of this thriving city blended with the fantasy of the novel and my experience became richer, stranger and more evocative. It was my first encounter with Korean literature and I was hooked.
After my experience with ‘I Have the Right to Destroy Myself’ I was eager to read more Kim Young-ha. The next of his books I read was actually two short stories. A few years ago a publishing company called Jimoondang published an excellent series of Korean short stories in translation under the title ‘The Portable Library of Korean Literature.’ Now it has to be said that the book covers are pretty terrible but the stories are excellent. And among the stories published were two by Kim Young-ha; ‘Photo Shop Murder’ and ‘The Guy Stuck in the Elevator.’ Charles Montgomery, a blogger who writes the Korean Literature in Translation blog, says that ‘Photo Shop Murder’ was the gateway drug that got him interested in Korean literature in much the same way that ‘I Have the Right to Destroy Myself’ got me interested. He says that he knew from the first sentence he was going to like the story. It’s a great first sentence – ‘Why do murders always seem to happen on Sundays?’ It immediately sets the tone for a gripping, hardboiled detective tale which is also another evocative exploration of the hopes, dreams, frustrations and failures of people trying to make their lives in sprawling Korean cities. The second story in the volume, ‘The Guy Stuck in the Elevator,’ contradicts the idea that there is a little humour in Korean fiction. It is an absurd, humorously Kafkaesque, slightly Orwellian tale of a very bad day in on office worker’s life. It has a great opening Sentence too – ‘Life can deal you some pretty strange days.’
Since reading these stories I have gone on to read a lot more Kim Young-ha as well as a lot more Korean literature in general. Reading Korean literature really has changed my life living in this country and I would recommend anyone interested in Korea to read Korean fiction. I believe, like many others, that in our increasingly hyper-globalized world perhaps the single best way to engage with the unique nature of another culture is through the appreciation of its literature. Unfortunately it is true that many Western readers are completely out of touch with international literature. This is a sad truth that limits our imaginative lives as well as our understanding of the world. Read Korean literature and definitely read some Kim Young-ha.
(Barry Welsh, instructor of Sookmyung Women’s University)