“You don’t need to feel alone.We can all be friends.”– Kim Nam Jo

This spring issue of _list: Books from Korea features Kim Nam Jo, a poet acclaimed for her zestfor life and love. The end of the Korean War, a catastrophic event that plunged Korea into thedepths of pain and despair, marked the beginning of Kim’s career as a poet. From her first poetrycollection, Life (1953), in which she expressed awe and wonder at life amidst the ravages of war,to her seventeenth and latest book, My Heart Aches (2013), Kim’s poetry has constantly revolvedaround themes like reflections on human nature, an unwavering affection for all life on Earth,and pain and healing. As is evident in one of her recent poems “Trees and Shadows” (p. 25), Kim’sconception of hope and despair, pain and healing, life and death, sin and salvation, and man andnature is that of inseparable Siamese twins who are aware of each other even in the darkness ofnight. She longs for and finds hope in the abyss of despair, healing in the throngs of pain, andsalvation on the flipside of sin. She achieves this impossible symbiosis of contradictions in herpoetry through a contemplative recognition of their coexistence and through man’s interaction withnature. This is why she calls poetry “hopeless Hope.” (p. 21)A true artist endures all hardships to achieve artistic fulfillment without compromising his or herstandards or ideals. This issue’s Special Section entitled “Korean Künstlerroman: Artist Novels” (pp.32–51) examines writers who have contemplated the meaning of life and inquired into the essence ofthe arts. We have sorted the long history of Korean literature into three generations: the first wavefrom the twenties to the sixties, the second wave from the seventies to the eighties, and the thirdwave from the nineties to the present.The first wave produced writers in the mold of the artist-genius celebrated in Romanticism whodevoted themselves to raising their art to the highest level possible and did not have scruples aboutmaking sacrifices or committing murder, arson, and rape for creative inspiration. The writers ofthe second wave practiced their art in an age of industrialization and democratization. Yi Mun-yol,whom we featured in our last issue, depicts the artist as a social outsider or an ideological nihilistwho pursues art for art’s sake while keeping aloof from social conventions and reality. New vistashave opened for the writers of the third wave with the emergence of new age technology like theInternet and social media. These writers are no longer interested in exploring the meaning of life orthe purpose of art. Rather, they indulge in aestheticism and art for art’s sake.This spring issue also features two young wordsmiths who debuted after the nineties: KimYeonsu (pp. 52–59) and Kim Ae-ran (pp. 60–67). The former’s idea of a writer is someone who keepson writing just as a marathoner keeps on running tirelessly. The latter aspires to stay young bywriting works that will be loved by all generations. 

by Park JangyunEditor-in-Chief