창작과 비평

The Quarterly Changbi 206, Winter 2024

Where Does Our Self-Esteem Come From? 

“When I say confidently that our literature today has become modern, as national literature, and also reached the global level, I believe I am not just blowing my own trumpet.” At first glance, this statement looks like it might have been made after the recent news that Han Kang won the Nobel Prize in Literature. In fact, it is from an article by novelist Yeom Sang-seop published 72 years ago (“Modern Literature in Korea,” Munye 1952: May-June, 11). His remark was made in the midst of the Korean War, more than a year before the armistice, and after the destructive force of cannons, nearly like a third world war, had raked the Korean peninsula.

It must have been a horrific environment—where they had a hard time even gathering manuscripts and printing a magazine—yet they still had a discussion about the “global level” attained by Korean literature. Koreans had good reasons for having this level of pride, though, about creating a “modern literature” in Korea, amid a brutal war, and only some 30 years after the March 1st Independence Movement in 1919, when such a growth began to bloom. As Yeom argued in his article, Koreans “owned an independent Korean literature, different from Japanese literature, even though it was influenced by the latter during the Japanese rule (7).” He emphasized that “as an expression of selfhood and a plea and cry of life, literature cannot be related to such concepts as imitation or flunkyism (7).” That is why literature is able to demonstrate its unique creativity—no matter how inadequate the conditions or environment. 

Yeom also expressed the achievements made in Korean literature until then by using a painful metaphor: “What a child, suffering from malnutrition and barely managing to recover, while avoiding a host of hardships, has eked out to grow (8).” In other words, no matter what poor conditions surround us, we should find a way to adapt to them and to train our wisdom to overcome them, so that, whether our conditions are favorable or not, those conditions are the cradle and foundation of our unique creativity. 

Therefore, the foundation of our self-esteem is our achievements, small or large, which we acquire through confrontation with the conditions we have been undergoing. Thus, if we re-evaluate our achievements and limitations, we should above all begin by checking that we have not devalued our history, which we have been building with our blood and sweat, by applying to it the perspectives of other countries or people. Even under the division system in the Korean peninsula, we have been achieving a unique and long history of “Korean-peninsula-style nation-building”—through the April Revolution (1960), the June Democratic Struggle (1987), and the Candlelight Revolution (2016). If we do not forget this history, which originated in the March 1st Movement, an event that lent an impetus to a collective awakening during Yeom’s era, his quoted statement was a fair one--both in 1952 and now. So the news of Han Kang’s winning the Nobel Prize in Literature may be one of many responses to our achievements, coming from outside, that have belatedly arrived and will continue to be made.

It is worth noting that the two Koreans who have won the Nobel Prize—Kim Dae-jung and Han Kang—are commonly related to the history of democratization in Korea, achieved through many people’s sacrifices and devotion. Kim contributed to peace, reunification, and democracy on the Korean peninsula, while Han turned human existence confronting historical traumas, such as the 1980 Gwangju Uprising, into superb literature. This was possible not because we endured so many pains and wounds, but because we managed to stand up while enduring them. Above I quoted Yeom’s remark about the opposing relationship between literature and “imitation or flunkyism.” As the popular phrase “waking up in an advanced country,” about Korea’s changed status in the world, indicates, the model of a country busy developing and catching up is no longer a sustainable vision in Korea, no matter which aspect of the society we consider. 

Above all, our pride as citizens who have achieved climactic change through the Candlelight democracy does not allow it. That is why the scandalous and regressive manipulation of state affairs by the current ruling forces appears even more shameful and anachronistic, and why we feel confident we will overcome it soon. Of course, we cannot achieve this by sitting back and doing nothing. However, if Korean society can come up with the wisdom that can push us forward, even on this bad steppingstone, while confronting a new crisis and decisive moment, we can make a further contribution to the world.

The Korean people have already declared the Yoon Suk Yeol administration and his forces to be bankrupt. Yet, appearing as the main characters in an anomalous interlude, in the middle of an ongoing Candlelight Revolution, these forces are challenging the Korean people’s commonsense and the constitutional order with all matter of illegality and irrationality--without even minimal efforts at hiding it. In a nation with our major economy, level of culture, and history of democracy, we cannot tolerate more destructive actions. Whether through the resignation of the president, a constitutional amendment reducing presidential terms, or impeachment, our foremost task is to create a process of presidential step-down that is quick and orderly, and therefore incurs minimal social cost. As people have already rendered a verdict, the political arena should come up with a suitable process. Yet given that the president emphasized his term ending in May 2027, at a press conference on November 7, and as he continues to abuse his government’s authority toward opposition forces and citizens in the name of the law, it is most likely that the Yoon administration will reject the peoples’ demands and hold out. To decisively break this system, it is important, above all, to pass the independent counsel laws in order to investigate various cases of abuse of governmental power. At the same time, though, Candlelight citizens’ exceptional resolution is also urgently necessary. Our self-esteem can be defended only by us.

The news of Han Kang’s winning the Nobel Prize in Literature, which arrived at a time of such a troubled domestic situation, was an unexpected occasion of joy and a meaningful impetus toward collective reflection on what Korean literature has achieved so far and what it should do from now on. That is why we urgently planned a special feature celebrating Han Kang’s prize, in which we present four articles discussing the world of Han Kang’s literature. Han Ki-wook richly analyzes how Han Kang’s novels both transcend representation-based narratives and preserve the significance of representation. By presenting many important points related to the interpretation of Han’s works through the unique perspective of the relationship between “call” and “response,” this article anticipates further lively discussions. 

While giving an overview of the world of Han Kang’s novels, which span three decades since the mid-1990s, Baik Ji-yeon carefully traces the process in which the author’s view of the world as a stage for tragedy and her self-consciousness as an artist in the earlier phase have progressed toward the matter of historical memory. Baik persuasively discusses how Han’s literature calmly penetrates the vulnerability of human beings rather than being buried by it, and how it is a story about the “power of heart” that moves toward solidarity with others in the world.

Song Jong-won’s article is also eye-opening, as it concretely examines the relationship between Han Kang’s literature and the history of modern Korean poetry. It is interesting to follow along as Song points out the elements in the history of modern Korean poetry corresponding to scenes in Han’s novels. Above all, his observation that Han’s “poetic prose” is connected to the dimension of our civic virtue or conscience is the result of Song’s uniquely profound insights.

The article by Ryu Youngju, who teaches Korean literature in the United States, offers us rich and vivid outside perspectives on Korean literature. Through examples and comments, she tells us that Korean literature is not only discussed profoundly among scholars but also widely read and examined by young literary students, beyond the barrier of translation. 

The three articles in the feature “The Power for Change We Find in Literature,” in which we search for the power for civilizational transformation existing in literature, correspond to the contents of the special feature. This is not a coincidence, as our time is confronting another inflection point. By meticulously analyzing poems by Shin Kyung-rim and Kim Seung-hee, Yang Kyung Eon tries to reinstate the unique power of lyric poems. Yang convincingly discusses how masterpieces of lyric poetry have always been free from the pressure of discourse that emphasizes the avoidance of lyricism.

Joung Ju A argues that we all share the same destiny, as “earth-dwellers,” finding the courage and vision for degrowth alive in recent works by newly emerging authors like Sung Haena, Kim Yuna, and Kong Hyun Jin, as well as established novelist Jeon Sungtae. Joung’s trust in the power of literature to overcome the illusion of a production-based growth ideology is persuasive.

Analyzing a new novel by Kim Ae-ran, Jung Hongsoo carefully explains how the power of a novel as fiction can overlap with our belief in truth. Although a novel cannot guarantee any belief or promise, it can help us to clearly feel and imagine them. It is from this capability that the unique power of literature originates.

 For the “Searching for K-Discourse” series, we present a dialogue celebrating the publication of the first portion of the Changbi Anthology of Korean Thoughts. At the present time, when the limitations of Western discourses are being seriously discussed, a dialogue among Baek Min Jung, Lim Hyung-taek, Heo Seok, and Hwang Jung-a examines how Korean thoughts can contribute to overcoming the current global crisis and to the grand transformation of our civilization. This will be an opportunity to learn how the Korean peninsula, as a place where difficult global issues are concentrated, can be a source of new ideas because of its situation.

“Articles” present two pieces. First, focusing on recent debates about a national foundation day, Oh Jeyeon points out how current discussions emphasizing only the Republic of Korea are necessarily empty. He then argues that, rather than obsessing about the concept of the “national founding,” we need to discuss what kind of country we want to build for the Republic of Korea, or on the Korean peninsula, and how we can overcome the problems in the current two nations or the division system in order to advance the quality of life for all members of our national community. 

Second, Nam Kijeong’s article is also related to historical problems. In commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the publication of Logic For the Era of Transition, it pays attention to the current relevance of Lee Young-hee’s perspective on the relationship between Korea and Japan. Nam meticulously examines how the Korea-Japan or Korea-US-Japan relationships that originated from the Treaty of San Francisco (1951) and that then developed through various international political processes and human networks is, in fact, anti-North Korea and/or anti-North alliance, and has intensively developed into an alliance of anti-Communism and historical revisionism.

“Focus on Author” illuminates Kim Keum Hee, whose novel Grand Greenhouse Repair Report was recently published. Literary critic Sunwoo Eunsil examines the literary approach that transmits past and present stories to the next generations through the voices of an author and their works, while freely adopting the framework of a historical novel and the genealogy of women’s narrative.

The essay series project “Where I Live,” which has been enthusiastically received every time, finishes up in this issue, in which we invited Jeong Ji A. Jeong’s witty and tasteful essay describing how people behave and affairs are conducted in Gurye, Jeollanamdo. It is worthy to be the grand finale of this much-loved series.

Lee Donghwa, who has been working for human rights in and around Palestine since 2006, contributed to “On the Scene.” Through vivid voices of people in Palestine, Lee lets us know how the event called the Israel-Hamas War is in fact more genocide than war.

“Literary Criticism” presents an article by Kwon YoungBin, an emerging critic. Noting the unique set-up of “two people” found in Kim Kitae’s works, Kwon argues through a careful analysis of individual works that such a fictional set-up can be a political act, which reorganizes the scale of humanity in the Anthropocene, evidenced through the climate crisis.

We present abundant creative writings in this issue, composed of 22 poems by 11 poets and four short stories, by Kim Yu-dam, Kim Hwajin, Myung Hak Soo, and Baek Ohn yu. As usual, the joy of reading new works by poets and novelists with various personalities is one of the most important sources of our pride. And we hope for our readers’ continuing support in this endeavor.

In “Literary Focus,” a corner where noteworthy new works of the current season are carefully selected and critiqued, Song Hyun-ji, So Yu-jeong, and Jang Eun-young offer us close readings of this season’s new works. In “Book Reviews,” a corner to which Changbi pays as serious attention as it does to other sections, we confidently introduce noteworthy new books in each field.

The 39th Manhae Prize in Literature was awarded to the collection of short stories In Each Season by Kwon Yeo-sun, and the 26th Baeksok Prize for Literature went to Feeling Like Living, a poetry collection by Lee Yeong-gwang. We extend hearty congratulations to both winners.

The US presidential election, which had many twists and turns, including a candidate replacement, and which resulted in the re-election of Donald Trump, broke the expectations of mainstream media around the world. While the Russia-Ukraine War is facing a new phase, it is hard to predict when the dark clouds over Palestine will be lifted. The situation in Japan has also been thrown into chaos, while the inter-Korean relationship is still perilous. In order to navigate this complex world, under our noses, where should we begin? What we should do before this winter’s end is quite clear.

Kang Kyung-seok