The Fruit of My Woman by Han Kang

The January edition of Granta continues the momentum of translations of Han Kang into
English with the short story The Fruit of My Woman from 1997, in her translator's note at the end of the story, Deborah Smith notes that it can be seen as a precursor, with some of it's themes similar to those that can be seen in The Vegetarian.  

The Fruit of My Woman at Granta

Human Acts by Han Kang

Firstly I'd have to mention a massive debt of thanks to Portobello Books for providing an ARC of Human Acts by Han Kang, the book is due next month and it feels more than fitting that my reading in 2015 that began with The Vegetarian is now ending with Human Acts both of which are translated by Deborah Smith. A first observation between the two books is that where The Vegetarian feels on the whole a largely character driven work, Human Acts takes it's cue from historical event, one that is close to it's author, Han Kang. Human Acts comes to us through six installments and an epilogue, Deborah Smith also provides an introduction which connects the author to the presented novel and offers insights and backgrounds in the translation of the novel, and of the nuances of it's original Korean title, the book has courted controversy since it's publication in 2014.

Throughout the six narratives a resurfacing character, who comes into focus through the varying perspectives is Dong-ho, a young student who becomes caught up in the violent repression of a demonstration in the South Korean city of Gwangju in 1980, and through the chapters a number of other orbiting characters resurface subtly linking the narratives together, interestingly the chapters start out from 1980 and as the novel progresses each chapter advances closer towards us to the present day, the last chapter, or epilogue entitled The Writer is dated 2013. Given that Gwangju is Han Kang's native city there are a number of instances and scenes within the book and chapters that feel have a biographical element to them, in one chapter an editor for a publisher who is about to publish a work from a playwright but encounters the censor, this chapter is presented on the occasions of seven slaps the narrator receives, as with all of the chapters as well as linking to Gwangju they offer nuanced glimpses and recollections into each of their narrators personal histories. Another chapter entitled The Prisoner from 1990 is told in the form of the events being recollected to an enquiring Professor who it appears is researching the events of Gwangju, the narrator recounts his treatment after being rounded up and his relationship with another prisoner, Jin-su, the narrative continues on after they meet again years later, the evidence of the indelible scarring of their treatment whilst being incarcerated remains as the men endeavour to reconcile the events of their pasts.

Deborah Smith points out that the book is not a simple chronology of Gwangju, Human Acts feels very much that it is a testament of the horrific events seen from differing perspectives and characters as well as from differing points in time, but at the same time there are lines laid within the novel that link from the initial event through time past and into the present day, a major one is Dong-ho, one of the chapters is narrated from his mother who recalls the point of last seeing him alive and dated from 2010, although despite being one of the central figures to the novel the character of Dong-ho carries a certain amount of anonymity, it feels that Han Kang has presented us with a sketch of him, although it feels that we see the barest outlines of him he remains highly tangible, his premature fate and snuffed out innocence highly and deeply poignant, and this anonymity carries with it a  certain sense that he is an everyman, Dong-ho could be anyone. Reading Human Acts is an often deeply moving and harrowing read and to be presented with the violence and brutality of it's events is to wonder again at the depths of man's inhumanity.


Human Acts at Portobello Books

The Vegetarian by Han Kang

Recently published by Portobello Books The Vegetarian is translated by Deborah Smith, glancing at the book's jacket you'd be slightly forgiven for failing to notice that hidden amongst the petals of flowers you can make out a tongue, fingers, a slab of meat, and on the back a single eyeball stares out from amongst the flowers, it's a slightly disconcerting blend of flesh and vegetation, something which figures largely within the novel. Han Kang comes from a literary family and has been awarded many literary awards, including the Yi Sang Literary Prize, for the story Mongolian Mark, a line from a poem by Yi Sang provided the inspiration to the story The Vegetarian, that states; I believe humans should be plants, this is another aspect seen in one of the leading characters of the novel. The Vegetarian is made up of three chapters that, almost in relay fashion, follow the story line of it's main protagonist, Yeong-hye. That said the book ostensibly follows two sisters, Yeong-Hye and also In-hye, although the perspectives that we see them from shifts in being from related characters, in the central story Mongolian Mark the narrative focuses on Yeong-hye's brother in law, a video artist who finds himself estranged from his own works, who fixates on his sister in law's, Mongolian mark, which has surprisingly not faded away as she has got older. Mongolian Mark picks up on the events of the preceding story The Vegetarian that sees the disintegration of Yeong-hye's marriage, which sees Yeong-hye turn vegetarian after having a dream, which throughout the story is initially described in italicised fragments. Throughout the opening story Yeong-hye stays steadfast to her vegetarianism, at a meal with her husband's work colleagues she refuses to eat meat which causes an incident her husband tries to contain by describing that she is a vegetarian due to medical reasons. As the story progresses it slowly becomes apparent that Yeong-hye's vegetarianism is leading more toward a fully blown eating disorder associated to her having a nervous breakdown, which culminates in a family gathering for a meal ending with Yeong-hye having meat forced upon her and a suicide attempt. Toward the end of the story elements of Yeong-hye's family background emerge, her violent father and characters that feature later in the book begin to appear, her brother in law, and her sister, In-hye.

Han Kang's prose deftly explores the fissures in her character's lives, predominantly the men that appear in the book are on the whole unforgivably base, the violence of her father, the neglect of her husband, who is later referred to as the more formal Mr Cheong in the latter part of the novel. At the same time within the book Han Kang explores the strengths of her characters as in the final story Flaming Trees, which sees In-hye reflect and summarises on her past and events of the book that have led to this point, In-hye visit's Yeong-hye in hospital now being force fed and on the brink of wasting away. Flaming Trees subtly continues the metaphor at play in the centre of the book, of humans as plants, Yeong-hye is at times overwhelmed by the feeling that she has an inner plant that is trying to find expression through various episodes in the book, at times she exposes her self to the sun which seems to appear as an attempt at temporary photosynthesis. The central theme in Mongolian Mark is that Yeong-hye's brother in law fixates on her Mongolian mark which inspires him to create a film of her painted with flower motifs on her body. An aspect that lies at the edges of the reader's suspicion is that of Yeong-hye's mental state, is her brother in law taking advantage of her, although she gives her consent and her enthusiasm for the project is a surprise to her brother in law, as much as it is to the reader.

During Mongolian Mark the marriage between Yeong-hye's brother in law with her sister, In-hye begins to come into focus in the narrative, and the brother in laws pursuit of his art knows no bounds, after persuading an artist friend, J, to also take part in the filming, but things don't go to plan and In-hye makes the discover of the subject of her husband's film with Yeong-hye. Han Kan's prose traces the lines and cracks with the things that bind her characters, pursuing desires contained and those seeking expression, at times uncontrollably and examines their consequences. The Vegetarian looks into the darker side of it's character's psychologies which glances equally between causes and consequences which grips across the triptych of stories presented here, I hope further translations appear in the near future.  

The Vegetarian at Portobello Books                

The Investigation by Jung-Myung Lee



Being set in Fukuoka Prison at the end of the war, (the same location of Endo Shusaku's novel The Sea and Poison), this novel piqued my interest and also additionally the translation is from Chi-Young Kim whose translation of The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly I read recently. Written by Jung-Myung Lee the book incorporates a fictionalized retelling of the life of the Korean poet, Yun Dong-Ju, it opens with the murder of Sugiyama, a guard of the prison known for his merciless treatment of the prisoners, Sugiyama is found strung up with his lips sewn together, another young guard, Watanabe, takes up the investigation of the murder and inside one of Sugiyama's inner pockets Watanabe finds a poem written out on a folded piece of paper. Something which impresses about Jung-Myung Lee's prose is his ability to weave the story seamlessly between each of the character's pasts with that of Watanabe's investigation in the present tense. The first and primary suspect is prisoner Choi Chi-su, a notoriously violent inmate who is repeatedly sent to solitary after attempting to escape many times, as well as exploring the past lives of Sugiyama and Choi Chi-su and their paths to the prison we are given a portrait of Watanabe, whose father went away to war, leaving him behind with his mother who set up a bookstore in Kyoto, there's an interesting description of the store being a 'fortress of books', but then Watanabe receives his red letter calling him up and eventually his being stationed at the prison.

Watanabe's lines of inquiry into Sugiyama's past also lead him to another inmate, Hiranuma, (Yun Donj-ju's given Japanese name), who was imprisoned for organising political meetings and his involvement with the Korean independence movement, as the novel progresses it becomes apparent that Sugiyama who despised intellectuals and reading begins to have found himself becoming absorbed into the world of books and reading. Posted on Ward 3 of the prison, known for its violence Sugiyama was put in charge with censoring the mail going in and out,  Hiranuma being able to translate Korean to Japanese and only letters written in Japanese having any chance of passing the censor, Hiranuma writes postcards home for the other inmates, whilst writing these cards Hiranuma begins to include in them references and phrases of his favourite authors, in particular the poets Rilke and Jammes which sends Sugiyama searching through the library's shelves to check if they contain anything seditious and should be censored, slowly he begins to be lured into the world of books and the written word.

The book is told with a deep sense of humility and humanity, the jacket mentions that it is perfect for fans of The Shadow of the Wind - a book I've yet to read, but in writing this book and it's appearance in English translation Jung-Myung Lee and Chi-Young Kim  have done a great service in bringing attention to the life of the poet Yun Dong-ju, as well as this the novel is imbued with an appreciation of reading and the ability of the written word to transform lives and outlooks. The plot is full of the enigma's and cruelties of it's times and Watanabe's investigation leads him into uncovering an uncomfortably dark truth about the prison and its practices, the riddle of Sugiyama's death is left unsolved until the last pages of the novel.


The Investigation at Mantle/PanMacmillan

Sky, Wind and Stars at Jain Publishing

  

The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly

 

Found myself caught up in this short novel that follows the progress of Sprout, a hen who hatches a duckling's egg, allegorical in nature the narrative is full of depictions of the harshness of the yard she lives in, under the constant threat of the weasels and the eyes of the farmer and his wife, all she wants is to break the bonds of her existence, and to look after her adopted sibling - baby, later renamed Greentop. Through this tale of survival and loss, the story of Sprout struggles against the oppressive forces of convention. Translated by Chi-Young Kim, (more information on her translations), the book also contains inter-chapter illustrations by Japanese illustrator Nomoco - Kazuko Nomoto, also illustrator of Gina Ochsner's People I Wanted To Be. The book originally appeared in 2000 and has sold over two million copies, the inside cover likens it to Orwell's Animal Farm, it's a fantastically absorbing fable. 

 

One World

 

Penguin (U.S.A)

 

video via Penguin Korea

 

The Reverse Side of Life

The Reverse Side of Life by Lee Seung - U, was originally published in Korean as Saeng-ui Imyeon back in 1992, it was awarded the first Daesan Literary Award, and translated into English by Yoo-Jung Kong. The novel is narrated, by a nameless journalist who reluctantly, (repaying an old favour to an editor), finds himself writing an 'Author Focus' piece about a writer named Bak Bugil. The novel uses a fascinating mixture of literary approaches and narrative techniques in presenting the initial years of the author, one of the first questions the reader finds themselves contemplating could be how bigger portion of the novel is taken from Seung-U's real life experiences, something the narrator finds himself reflecting upon through out his study of Bak Bugil. Immediately the author reads many of Bak Bugil's collections of stories and essays and exploring his novels for pointers, he meets the author twice, the second time ends up with him drinking too much. From a young age Bak is told that his father is a genius who is away studying, he is expected to pass an advanced examination, with the intention of becoming a judge. Bak is brought up in his Uncle's house, in the yard of which grows a persimmon tree, which he is told he must stay away from, and never to pick it's fruits. From an early age he is a voracious reader, Gide and Hesse are among writers who are referenced to within the novel, and in later parts also Endo, Borges and Lagerkvist, there's little mention of Korean Literature if any at all, as indeed there's very little if any reference to Korean culture as a whole within the novel, but as the novel progresses through the late sixties and into the nineteen seventies the narrative picks up with discontent the students feel, a planned protest is suppressed. The use of peoples name is something kept to a minimum, this fact in a way mirrors that of Baks unique and individualistic approach to his life and world view, he reads to keep the external world at bay -

In short, his engrossment in reading was not to discover a paradise within books. He just wanted to shut his eyes to his own reality. In this respect books were a kind of anaesthetic from early on. Hence now, writing as an adult, he confessed in a low voice while donning a slightly awkward smile, his writing could be considered a kind of anaesthetic.

The narrator is constantly addressing and questioning Baks motives and cross referencing episodes within his life with those in his writings, combining literary theory with a detective like inquisitiveness, the narrative does lean at times on repetition, and incorporates the novel, (or perhaps here novels), within a novel technique, at the same time the differing perspectives, that of the Bak appearing in his novels, the narrator trying to construct a portrait of the writer, with that of the narrators access to unpublished novels and stories, creates a highly compelling narrative, these juxtaposing viewpoints in a way contribute to the repetition, but are essential as the narrator sifts through the events. Young Bak is unable to stop himself from venturing into the yard and in one of the out buildings he discovers a man there kept in shackles, he is later told that the man is a servant of his uncles who has gone mad and that he should not talk to him, although Bak finds the man has a gentle aspect to him and forms a friendship with him, Bak suspects that the rule about the tree was a cover in order to prevent meeting this man. At around this time a man who was born in the village returns from studying and opens a church, many rumours circulate about the church and the motives of the pastor, people reportedly go in and out of the church late at night, his mother becomes involved with the church, and through using Bak's novels and stories the narrator tells the story of Bak's eventual detachment from his mother, also he learns that his father is studying at Jinnam, Bak makes a failed attempt at leaving the village to find his father but is caught and is severely punished by his Uncle, which further instilled in him the desire that he has to leave the village. The narrative follows Bak as he leaves the village and severs the links with his family and after a period of wandering finds himself in Seoul where after being assaulted by a guard he takes refugee in a church after hearing the music of a piano being played, this in turn leads him to meet, Jongdan, a young woman who he sees shares a similar world view to that of his own. It is difficult to describe in detail the events that occur within the novel without giving them away,  these discoveries as they are read are integral to appreciating it. The novel conveys the emotional difficulties Bak faces with addressing his past, his story is wrought with turmoil and upheaval.                        

The Reverse Side of Life at Peter Owen

Lost Souls

Published by Columbia University Press as part of the Weatherhead Books on Asia series is this collection of short stories by Hwang Sunwon (1915-2000), translated by Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton. Lost Souls contains stories taken from three of his short story collections from the 1930's, 40's and 50's. Hwang studied at Waseda University in the late 1930's, where he wrote the stories that would appear in his first collection, 'The Pond',(Nup). The story 'Adverbial Avenue', originally from 'The Pond, gives a snapshot of life for Korean emigrants in Japan, a subject returned to in another story, Sunggu evades the suspicions of his landlady, deciding to tell her that he's from Kyushu, in order to disguise his Korean accent, 'Scarecrow' follows Chun'gun and his observations on fellow villagers, in particular, Myongju, in a rural tale. 'Trumpet Shells' is a more of modernist story, with coffee,cigarettes and jazz, opening in a nocturnal sea side setting, two men talk of their first meeting with Wori and Un'gyongi, a saddening story of separations and the search of a reconciliation of sorts. This story in particular kept returning to my thoughts, blending melancholy, lighthouses, the sea.

'The Dog of Crossover Village', (Mongnomi maul ui kae), published in Seoul in 1948 was his second collection of short stories, most of them concerning post war era Korea, with the sudden end of Japan's thirty five years of occupation, on August 15th 1945. The title story, written in March 1947, follows a group of travellers as they make their way to Manchuria, they reach a remote village, and the narrative picks up on a stray dog in it's search for food around the village. At first the dog is kicked aside by some of the farmhands, rumour soon spreads around the village of a rabid stray dog, that has a blue tint to it's eyes (a sign that it's rabid). A hunt ensues, and some of the villager's own dogs go missing, fearing that their dogs have turned rabid like the visiting stray, on their return, the villager's string up their dogs and with a family from a neighbouring village have a dog day feast. The story ends up, being fable-like, telling that the stray dogs pups still live in the village, and I liked the way the narrative effortlessly moves from various perspectives.

'Lost Souls',(Iroborin saram tul), Hwang's sixth collection was published in 1958 and primarily looks at the Korean War and it's aftermath. The title story 'Lost Souls', is the tale of Sogi and Suni, lovers who are separated when Suni is selected to be the concubine for a neighbouring families dying father. Borrowing money from his mother and telling her he's going on a trip, Sogi and Suni run away to start a new life. Establishing themselves in a neighbouring village, a relative of the dying man recognises Sogi and along with other members of the family they confront Sugi, telling him that the old man has since died,and therefore he should be punished for taking the old man's concubine, deciding that cutting off Sugi's topknot is not sufficient punishment they decide to cut off his ear instead. The couple meet more misfortune as the story progresses, and by the end, the narrative again changes, ending this tragic story into a fable like tale, that has been passed down from generation to generation, perhaps it was.

Hwang Sunwon was both a modern and traditional story writer, often experimenting with writing styles and read translations of Camus, Hemmingway and had an especial liking for Shiga Naoya. Often likened to Kawabata's shorter fiction, reading these stories brought to mind the short stories of Ibuse Masuji, especially the stories with a rural setting, 'House', reminding me in particular of 'Old Ushitora'. But like Kawabata and Ibuse, Hwang's stories transcend their native setting and have a universal humanistic element, although his stories remain distinctively Korean. I'll have to admit that I've not read many Korean authors yet,hopefully next year I'll remedy that, there's alot of titles that I'd like to read, maybe a translation of Lee Eung-joon's 'The Private Life of the Nation', will appear. Reading 'Lost Souls' has been an excellent starting point to a literature that I've only just started to explore.


Columbia University Press


Korean Literature Translation Institute