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Overseas Angle
Our Korean Literature Book Club: KBC Naehun
Our story starts in the middle of the pandemic, in June 2020. Since we had to spend most of our days inside our homes, the Embassy of the Republic of Korea in Romania organized numerous online events for the Romanians who love Korea. One of the events was a Korean Literature Quiz, for which we had to read The Court Dancer by Kyung-Sook Shin (Dansul privighetorii de primăvară, tr. Diana Yuksel—Ed.). Thanks to this event, I had the chance to meet people from around Romania who were interested in Korean literature.After this event, I remembered a wish I had since I was in my early twenties: to be part of a book club, where I can not only read books but also share and learn new things from different perspectives. Since the pandemic didn’t offer many options, I decided to ask my online friends if they would be interested in starting a Korean literature book club. Most of them were excited about the idea, so we had our first meeting in October 2020. Since then, we have been reading one book each month, and now—August 2023—we are reading our thirty-fifth book! Our book club name is KBC Naehun. KBC stands for “Korean Book Club,” while Naehun is the first known book written by a female author in Korea, and since our group first consisted only of women, we found it to be the perfect name.Looking back at the almost three years we have spent reading Korean literature together, I realized that we have learned to appreciate certain things, which I will shortly describe below.We have come to value Korean literature translated into Romanian. One of our club members, Camelia—who wants to publish her Korea Travel Journal in the future—suggested we only read Korean literature that is translated into Romanian. This suggestion proved to be a great idea because it encourages us to purchase translated books, showing Romanian publishers that there are people interested in Korean literature. Since we are currently reading our thirty-fifth book, we sometimes struggle to find new titles to read, but we often share information about new releases, and we are more than delighted to discover new books. Our most recent discovery is the Romanian translation of I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki by Baek Sehee (Vreau să mor, dar vreau să mănânc tteokbokki, tr. Prodan Iolanda—Ed.), and we look forward to reading it!Another thing we treasure is our mutual respect. Our book club consists of people from various ages, occupations and backgrounds, and during our meetings there are times when we hold different opinions regarding the books we are reading. But despite having contrasting ideas at times, we have learned to listen to each other, to consider other points of view, and to try to understand why certain people think the way they do. Every time we read a new book I wait with anticipation to hear what my book club friends have to share.Last but not least, the relationship we have built is another thing we hold precious. Our book club started with about twelve members, but today we have about seven regular members. Even if the number got smaller, the appreciation we have for each other and the quality of our conversations got deeper. We even started a small tradition of meeting in person at least once a year. Whenever we meet, we try to incorporate Korean culture into our day: we eat Korean food, we visit Korean stores, we watch Korean movies, we share memories from our trips to Korea and look for Korean novels in our local bookstores. Korean literature has been a very special part of our lives until now. It brings us joy every month and we hope that someday we will have the chance to hold our book club meeting somewhere under the Korean sky! Until then, we will continue to search for Korean novels translated into Romanian, to read them and to share and talk about the impact these books have on our ways of thinking and on our lives.
by Cristina Rosian
Overseas Angle
Finding Yourself Eighteen Thousand Kilometers Away
I was studying for one of my university classes when my aunt called me a few years ago, her voice full of excitement. I asked her the reason for her call, and she told me that she had been reading Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo (translated into Spanish by Joo Hasun—Ed.).In Chile, despite the strong presence of Asian media, there is still a subdued reluctance among older generations to engage with such content. My family knows that I have a deep interest in Korean literature, a fascination that has developed since my early teenage years. Because of this, I became the go-to person for everything Korea-related. However, my lengthy discussions about Korean novels were usually met with puzzled looks and little to no interest. Questions such as “Why read about a place so far away?” and “Why invest time in learning about a culture so different from ours?” were a regular occurrence during family gatherings. Apparently, to my family, being interested in Korea instead of the United States or Europe seemed like a waste of time.I cannot deny that I was pleasantly surprised when my aunt called me and told me she had been reading a Korean novel. I was curious to know her thoughts on the book, and she revealed that she had cried throughout the whole novel. “How can it be,” she asked me, “that a woman in Korea experiences the same struggles as I have?” After a brief pause, she continued, “How can the protagonist’s mother feel so much like my own?”Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 gained immense popularity in Chile a few years ago. I wondered how my aunt managed to get a copy. Korean literature translated into Spanish was scarce at the time, and due to the novel’s unexpected popularity, it was sold out nationwide. I asked around until I discovered that my cousin, her oldest daughter, who was living in the Netherlands at the time, had purchased the book for her. She told me she had read the book and found it so earth-shattering that she felt compelled to find a copy and send it across continents so that her mother could read it as well. “I tried to buy it in Chile,” she later explained, “but it was sold out everywhere, and I knew she needed to read it.” How she managed to find a Spanish copy of the book in the Netherlands remains a mystery to this day.How big can the impact of a single novel be, that it prompts a daughter, living kilometers away, to send a book across the ocean so that her mother can read it, too?I think this story exemplifies the impact of Korean literature and sheds a light on the reasons behind its popularity. Over the years, I have witnessed the number of people that enjoy reading Korean literature increase exponentially. Now, people oftentimes come to me and share their reactions, acquainted as they are to my ramblings about Korean books. The responses are almost always along the lines of, “How can someone like me, a person born and raised in Chile, kilometers away from these people, relate to the experiences depicted in these stories?” “How can we feel the same things? Suffer from the same hardships?” “How can I find myself reflected in the words of someone that lives on the other side of the world?”People always get surprised by how Korean literature can make them feel. They describe how the words seem to pull at their heartstrings, as though they were words written by someone that has known them their entire life. It makes sense, though, to be surprised: after all, the similarities between Korea and Chile can be counted on one hand. But I guess we forget sometimes that we are not defined solely by our languages, surroundings, customs, and cultures. Beyond these external factors, we are all human, experiencing life through our human ways. The human experience is global, and although distances, both physical and cultural, may seem daunting, we all go about our lives in quite similar ways.The popularity of books like The Vegetarian and Human Acts by Han Kang (tr. Sunme Yoon—Ed.), Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo, and Almond by Won-pyung Sohn (tr. José Manuel Moreno Cidoncha—Ed.) showcases how Korean literature has been slowly making a place for itself on the bookshelves of Chilean readers. The emergence of Korean literature courses in various Universities across the country and the success of publishing houses like Hwarang Editorial, dedicated exclusively to Korean literature, further illustrate the growth of this market, not only in Chile but throughout Latin America. Korean literature has managed to tear down long-standing prejudices about Korea in Chile, and I am excited to see where the encounter between these two cultures will take us. I want to see more people finding a part of themselves, eighteen thousand kilometers away.
by Sofía A. Ramirez
Overseas Angle
The Rise of Korean Literature on Tiktok
Korean literature is having a moment on TikTok. I’m certain of it after a year and a half on the platform. When I started TikTok in February 2022, among my ideas was that I would talk about Korean literature, because I have much love for it and did not see it enough on the platform. Fast forward to now, I have garnered a modest following of over 19,000, built on the swelling hunger for Korean literature that I’ve stumbled upon on TikTok. Even more extraordinary is the fact that my videos are often two to three minutes long, which is an eternity on TikTok. Yet people have flocked to hear what I have to say about fiction from Korea. Many times, when I put out a video on a book by a Korean author, my engagement and views spike up. In the comments section, people fervently ask for the next recommendation. They also proudly declare that they have ordered the book online after seeing my video. The true evidence that Korean literature was coming to prominence on TikTok, at least to me, was when I was chosen as one of six TikTok personalities to form the International Booker Prize Book Club in 2023, which was a part of the Booker Prize Foundation’s campaign for the prize shortlist. The book that I was assigned to was Whale by Cheon Myeong-kwan (translated into English by Chi-Young Kim—Ed.), and understandably so because I covered it extensively when it was longlisted. The fact that the Booker Prize Foundation thought to find a Korean TikToker with a focus on Korean literature to represent a translated Korean novel is in itself proof that there is a noticeable enthusiasm for Korean literature on TikTok. Of course, there is always doubt as to how much of this is real support for Korean literature. A virtual hullabaloo often ends up being nothing but a murmur offline. But there are also moments when the digital noise represents an extension of the world we inhabit. In the case of Korean literature, the latter is certainly true. Over the past few years, I’ve noticed more books from Korea taking up space in bookshops, whether digital or not. My audience is largely North American, many of them Canadian. My account’s top city by viewership is Toronto. It could just be that the algorithm counts my location when deciding to whom it will push my content. But having been also a part of the literary community in Montreal, and an avid reader myself, I’m pleasantly surprised to see how the budding passion for Korean literature matches in reality what I’ve felt on TikTok. But all of this aside, I believe we are at the beginning of a potentially much larger and more ambitious journey. There is so much room for Korean literature to grow on TikTok, precisely because people are craving for more. Such energy is further fanned by prominent celebrity endorsements, such as recommendations made by RM from BTS, for whom the fandom is absolutely rabid on TikTok. In fact, the videos I’ve made on RM and his tastes in fiction are some of the most popular I’ve released until now. Various RM fans have commented, saying that they discovered so many Korean books after following my channel and coming across my RM videos. The iron is hot, and I certainly plan on seizing the moment with my initiatives. But so should anyone who has even an iota of affection for Korean literature. TikTok is no longer the “new platform that the kids are on.” It is a mature place of discussion and celebration. Korea has so many spectacular books to offer, and TikTok is ravenous for them. All we need to do is simply meet people halfway and show them just how rich Korean literature is. So, the question is, why would we not do this? Jinwoo Park is a Korean-Canadian writer based in Montreal. He completed his Master’s in creative writing at the University of Oxford in 2015, and has been working in the tech industry as a writer since. In 2021 he won the Jim Wong-Chu Emerging Writers’ Award for his unpublished manuscript, Oxford Soju Club. He talks about literature on TikTok at @jinwoopark0721.
by Jinwoo Park
Overseas Angle
Fantastic Korean Literature and Where to Find It: The Hidden Diversity of Readers and Korean Bookstores in Indonesia
The Hallyu wave, or the global spread of Korean
pop culture, has left a significant impact in Indonesia. With K-pop idols
dominating music charts and TV screens, it was only a matter of time before
their influence permeated other aspects of popular culture. Enter K-pop-inspired
readers—a generation of young Indonesians who find inspiration in K-pop’s
vibrant aesthetics, compelling narratives, and dedicated fandoms, and apply
these elements to their literary pursuits.
by Larashati Laras
Overseas Angle
A New Wave of Korean Literature in France
France is one of the Western countries that took an early interest in Korean literature, with Maurice Courant's Bibliographie Coréenne (Korean Bibliography in English), and the translations of Printemps Parfumé (The Tale of Chunhyang) and Le Bois Sec Refleuri (The Tale of Sim Cheong), two classical novels of Korean literature, translated by Hong Jong-u at the end of the nineteenth century. However, it wasn’t until the first great wave of translations of Korean literature in the nineties that a concrete interest and niche readership really emerged.I began to read Korean literature in the 2010s, at the start of my university years. My first choices were novels by Eun Heekyung, various translations of Patrick Maurus, and the translations of Korean fairy tales, yadam and other works of classical literature such as the Histoire de Dame Pak (The Tale of Lady Park, tr. Marc Orange). At that time, manhwa also seemed to be finding their way onto the shelves of comic book shops, albeit discreetly compared to Japanese manga. What’s the situation today?Having lived in Korea for several years, I haven’t really followed the evolution of Korean literature and its reception in France: I didn’t expect to see such big changes in such a short time. I’ve noticed a stronger promotion of literary works and webtoons on social networks, but what a surprise it was to see Korean literature on prime-time TV and large webtoon posters in the Paris metro!
by Kevin JASMIN HAMARD
Overseas Angle
Finding Bookish Communities in Singapore and Seoul
One of my fondest bookish memories from when I lived in Singapore is going to my first book reading with my best friend. It was at BooksActually, an independent bookstore tucked away in Tiong Bahru. A local band performed before the poetry reading, and the tiny store was crowded with book and music lovers alike, there to bask in the warm atmosphere and gorgeous prose.There is also that time when I got to perform an improvised Sesame Street-themed show with my improv team, Jalan Rambutan, on the second floor of a newly-opened bookstore called The Moon. It was a dream venue to perform at, for it was a stunning astrology-themed bookstore that championed LGBTQ+ and women’s literature. They also had a wonderful curation of picture books that encouraged empathy and self-acceptance. That day, my castmates and I played a puppet show about two rival roller-skating groups who were up against each other in becoming the world’s greatest roller-skate champions.
by Gene Png
Overseas Angle
Korean Literature Down Under
The Hallyu wave of Korean culture sweeping the world has reached Australia, just like everywhere else. My wife was one of many viewers who made Squid Game one of the surprise hits of 2021, and Australian teens are just as likely to listen to BTS and BLACKPINK as they are to Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift. When it comes to Korean literature, though, the appeal is, to put it mildly, slightly less mainstream - so why is that the case?
by Tony Malone
Overseas Angle
Fire for Books Lit Up My Way to Korea
Back in 2018, Kyung-Sook Shin’s Please Look After Mom was my gateway to Korean literature. The heartrending story makes anyone who reads this novel long for their own mothers. Such are humans: we get swept up by the times, and give something its due appreciation only after we lose it. Reading Please Look After Mom makes us wish we could hug our mothers tight and never let them go. This novel made me reassess what it means to be a child. It’s such an emotional piece of work, one that reminds us to never gloss over the actions and attitude we have towards the sole individual who offers us unconditional love: our mothers. Thus was my introduction to Korean literature. I fell in love. I love stories and languages. The moment I sit down and read a book, I can’t but wish I could delve into those stories in the language it was initially written in. I’m not satisfied with just reading a translated work. Every language in the world comes with their own history and culture. Therefore, there are stories whose contexts and deeper meanings can be truly understood only when they’re read in their original language. In 2020, I registered for a Korean language class in Malaysia. The part-time course was taught by two instructors: Fouad Seongsaengnim and Nura Seongsaengnim from Fufu Korea, and was held twice a week. I’m still currently unable to read a Korean text. Even reading children’s books in Korean is a grueling task, and I have to use dictionaries and the notes I’d taken in order to fully understand. Yet I refuse to give up. I’m aware that the best way to master a language is by using it, consistently and persistently. Therefore, I challenge myself to watch K-dramas and Korean variety shows without subtitles. While listening to K-pop songs, I strive to understand the meaning without looking up the lyrics. It’s not easy. But after hard work comes ease. Practice makes perfect. Every time I succeed in understanding a Korean word or expression without referring to the dictionary, I celebrate my tiny win. Another stroke of luck for me is the fact that near my home in Malaysia, there is a second-hand bookstore that sells used Korean books. I am a regular there, always buying at least one book a month. Every time I look at the thousands of Korean books neatly arranged on the bookshelves, I promise myself, “One day, I will be able to read all of them like I read books in my language.” I have also subscribed to Korean Literature Now magazine and as of now I own eight physical editions. With KLN I can follow the newest trends and find out the most recent works by a variety of Korean authors. I’ve always believed that, with reading, we are truly living. And with literature, we learn how to be better humans. Iman Danial Hakim is a lawyer by training. He believes that when one pens their own words, they will be remembered. Hence, he wrote an anecdote about a bibliophile: Aku Mahu Membaca 1000 Tahun Lagi (Jejak Tarbiah, 2018) and a poetry collection on love for books and reading: Dunia Adalah Senaskhah Dongeng (JIWA, 2022). He shares his thoughts on books and life on Twitter (@ImanDanialHakim) and Instagram (@ImanDanialHakimm).
by Iman Danial Hakim
Overseas Angle
The Reception of Korean Literature in Japan
Alongside the general rise in popularity of Korean culture in Japan, we are also seeing a continuing boom in Korean literature. Park Min-Gyu’s Castella (translated by Hyon Jye-hun and Saito Mariko, 2014, Crane Press) won the first annual Japan Translation Award, and since then, two other works by Korean authors have been selected for the prize from the plethora of works of translated literature. In addition, Almond by Sohn Won-pyung (translated by Yajima Akiko, Shodensha) was selected for the Best Translation category in 2020 Bookseller’s Award, a prize given to the book which booksellers vote the one they would most like to sell. These prizes have helped lead many readers, especially those who actively seek out foreign literature, to accept Korean literature, and helped this national literature find many readers. Until then, “Korean Literature” was just a subcategory in the “Other” section in most bookshops. But now, Korean Literature often has a special presence. If you visit a big book store with a dedicated foreign literature section, there’s often a sign for Korean Literature, and authors’ names are regularly displayed as well. These authors usually have several of their works translated into Japanese and have built a following who actively seek out their works. With the influence of K-pop as well as successful marketing on the part of publishers in developing Korean literature series, these works of Korean literature stand out as especially polished. The work of Korean literature that garnered the most attention was Cho Nam-Joo’s Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 (translated by Saito Mariko, Chikuma Shobo, 2018). Impressive sales led to an immediate reprint in Japan, and ultimately the novel sold over 150 thousand copies. The publisher even created a special site for the book. This book brought readers together. I think its impact stems from the way reading it allowed readers to exchange their own opinions and discuss their own stories with each other. Because of the continuing effects of the Corona virus since 2020, it has become much more common for readers scattered all over the country to come together and talk online. Following Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 came the publication of works like We Need Words – Feminists Cannot be Silent by Lee Mingyeong (translated by Sunmi and Koyamauchi Sonoko, 2018). Not only literary works, but essay collections and academic work, even graphic novels with clear feminist perspectives continue to be published in Japan. We see the popularity of Korean literature even in the world of literary magazines. Kawade Shobo’s 2019 Autumn special issue of their magazine Bungei titled Korea, Feminism, Japan had to be reprinted due to tremendous demand, something uncommon for a literary magazine. This incident illustrates how highly regarded Korean literature is as feminist literature. Building on the success of their special issue, publisher Kawade Shobo also released books such as Korea, Feminism, Japan – The Complete Edition (Edited by Saito Mariko, 2019), Korea, Feminism, Japan – The Fiction Edition (featuring works by Cho Nam-Joo and Hoshino Tomoyuki, 2020), Korea, Feminism, Japan: I Want to Know More About You – A Collection of Short Stories (featuring Park Min-gyu, Fukamidori Nowaki). These works are a collaboration of like-minded writers from both Korea and Japan. As residents of East Asian countries where restrictive gender norms still remain, Japanese and Korean women share many similar experiences. But it was Korean literature that put those experiences on the page. This wave has crossed the sea and is now encouraging us as well. Kira Kanae Translator, Korean language Instructor"I am always moved to see students who learned Korean from the hangul alphabet reading novels in Korean."Translations: Jeon Sungtae The Second Self-Portrait, Chang Kang-myoung Because I Hate Korea, Song Aram Daegu Nights, Seoul Nights
by Kira Kanae
Overseas Angle
Beyond Borders: Korean Literature Becomes a New Trend in Romania
Whenever someone asks me, “What is your hobby?” my answer is always, “I read.” And these days I am reading a lot of Korean literature. The Korean wave not only refers to K-pop and K-dramas, but also to Korean literature, which has gained a lot of attention among European countries, including Romania.
The diplomatic relationship established between Korea and Romania has given way to massive interest in a new type of literature, a type of literature more challenging and totally different from our own. And this curiosity for novelty has allowed for the publication of the most well-known writings of authors such as Han Kang, Lee Jimin, Kyung-Sook Shin, Lee In-hwa, Cho Nam-joo, Ko Un, most of whom were translated with the support of LTI Korea.
What intrigued me at first was that Korean writers do not follow the global formula for success. They write with their feelings—and this makes their writing emotionally powerful as well as self-reflexive. My friends consider Korean books unique, especially those written through the viewpoints of past generations that portray a full range of experiences, wisdom, unknowns and oddities. Even the most recent of topics, like discrimination against women and the obstacles that keep women from achieving higher social ranks, as described in Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 or Marilyn and Me, are depicted with a penetrating voice, emphasizing the real problems of human relationships and of achieving a just morality. When it comes to literature, we Romanians are attracted to life stories that are not perfect and easy, so we search for books that depict places, people and society very differently from what we are accustomed to.
Korean literature reinforces its sense of nationality and the discovery of self through its impactful narratives and identities. Without insisting on the plot alone, it focuses on building strong characters full of individuality and responsibility, thoroughly and discreetly painted in their true colors, without losing their ambiguity at all. The female characters in particular seem to be much stronger than their male counterparts, possessing an unimaginable power that allows them to overcome their harsh experiences in life. If you ask a Romanian reader for a recommendation, we will always pick Pachinko because it shows a different perception on life and the struggles of the common people while set during the Japanese occupation, a dark historical moment for Korea.
Although there are only a few Korean books translated into Romanian, we know that this is just the beginning. Korean Literature Now (KLN) strives for the popularization of Korean literature internationally and in the process has become a source of information for many readers, including me. After winning a copy of Autobiography of Death, I was able to discover a new interesting Korean writer. Thanks to KLN, we found out about the touching poetry of Ko Un, and later on we had the pleasure to see him in person at the International Poetry Festival in Bucharest in 2016. His anthology of poems Timp cu poeți morți (Time with Dead Poets) was translated into Romanian.
Even though Korean literature has just recently gained more attention, it is an invaluable gift for every international reader. Reading a book from another country gives you insight into that country, its people, as well as its history and reality.
Geanina Voicu (1993) has a Doctoral degree in Biology and works as a scientific researcher in cardiovascular diseases. She wrote various articles as a Honorary Reporter for Korea.net and worked as a staff member at MustB concert in Romania. She also participates in various events related to Korea organized in Romania.
by Geanina Voicu
Overseas Angle
A Londoner’s Love Letter to Korean Literature
My love for Korean literature bloomed at around the time I first visited the country in 2007. I already had a passion for literature and was keen to add to this. I wanted to find out more about this culture through the language and its history.
by Diya Mitra
Overseas Angle
Korean Literature in the Language of Cervantes and Borges
My first encounter with Korean culture happened in 2012. A friend of mine invited me to a film festival organized by the Korean Embassy and I was left astounded by the movies we watched. As soon as the festival was over, I ran to a bookshop and asked for some Korean books. The clerk recommended authors Yun Heung-gil and Han Kang. That same year I started to study Korean.
The Vegetarian was published in Argentina in 2012 (tr. Sunme Yoon), three years before its English version and four years before it won the Man Booker Prize, a milestone that opened the golden age of Korean translations around the world. We can break down the history of Korean literature in the Spanish-speaking world into two periods: pre-2016, and post-2016.
by Nicolás Braessas
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