Q. Please introduce yourself.
I am Kim Seung-hee, a poet based in Korea. I have written poems for 50 years since the age of 21, when I was in my junior year of college. I have 11 poetry collections, including Hope is Lonely, A Croaker on a Chopping Board, and The Truthful Human of Pickled Radish and Bacon.
I usually rely on techniques like puns, ironies, and paradoxes, and my work has been described as celebrating the poetics of laughter and liberation. You could sum up my writings as “a minority’s notes” considering how women were the minority in the days when I was growing up. Back then, Korea was a male-dominated Confucian society, so women took the place of the minority.
Q. Can you tell us more about “There’s an Island Called Nevertheless”?
Actually, I wrote it during the most difficult time in my life. My husband was admitted to the ICU after suffering a stroke, and I wrote about my experience while taking care of him at the hospital. This is how the poem begins. “In the lowest place, lower even than soggy leaves,there’s an island called Nevertheless.” I wanted to write about people who have hit rock bottom due to unforeseen circumstances, and show how they continue to love and hope even on an island that seems like a neverending tunnel.
Q. Why are you interested in adverbial phrases?
Q. You are known as a poet who harshly depicts reality. Why is this?
Most of my poems have the features of a minority’s notes, and I described the fear, anxiety, and sense of loss felt in life in a grotesque way. My generation also lived at a time when the social and political atmosphere induced fear and anxiety. I wrote about conflict with the world, the mental breakdown of individuals, suicidal tendencies, and destructive pain in a fearful tone. This approach gave birth to poems that leave a strong impression on readers.
Q. How was it being a female poet in Korea during the1970s and 80s?
In my poem titled “My Absence in Korean Literary History,” I described female poets as “female rat fleas.” In the early 1970s when I first began writing poetry, the male critics took note of my gender, describing my workas “dealing with the essence of the matter unlike women” and“unique for a female poet.”
A rat flea is a parasite that irritates you by biting even though it is too small to be noticeable. I was often criticized and looked down on, but my passion for literature kept me going. My passion helped me to overcome many obstacles. The word “overcome” has a special significance in my heart.
Q. Can you share more about your overseas experience?
Venice is a city of water and the sun. Cairo too is a city of the sun, deserts, and pyramids. They are both impressive. I realized that the cultural significance of the cities is beyond imagination. I was struck by how human civilizations are built on the narratives of life and death. My creativity and imagination were stimulated by the glorious sun in Venice and Cairo, and the beauty of the Grand Canal. Upon returning from Venice, I felt a sense of liberation in imaginative power while writing.
Q. You stressed the importance of keeping a diary. Do you still keep one?
These days,I find myself turning more to my notepad than my diary. I quickly jot down whatever comes to mind. The process is similar to collecting flashes of language, and this is not always chronological. When I look back at my notepad after a while, I am surprised by what I have written. I think to myself, did I really write this or is it something I read? Some of my scribblings are surprisingly good, and others can be quite worthless.
Q. What are your future plans?
I don’tr eally have a future plan. As you know, poets are always wandering about. Poets find it hard to navigate through life. We try to make sense of life by writing. One small plan I do have is to travel abroad when the pandemic ends. I hope for the world to be free of pandemics and wars, and for all borders and roads to open up in the near future.
Translated by Park Kyoung-lee