من خلال المفارقة التى تغلف حياة أسرة البطل، التى تعيش فى حى شديد الفقر اسمه السعادة التابعة لمقاطعة النعيم! يعرض المؤلف الحياة البائسة الناجمة عن خليط من الديكتاتورية وعنف مخاض ثورة صناعية غير محددة الملامح، فى فترة السبعينيات، ويوفر من خلال ذلك رؤية واضحة للمجتمع الكورى فى الماضى القريب، التى تصلح كذلك لأن تكون رؤية حالية لواقع الكثير من الدول المتخلفة فى آسيا وأفريقيا.
One would not expect a kaleidoscopic, disjointed novel about the tragic lives of society's losers to become a best seller(*) and made into a movie, but precisely that happened to The Dwarf, written by Cho Se-hui (b. 1942) between 1975 and 1978 as a yŏnjak sosŏl (linked narrative), a collection of separately published but interlinked short stories, and accounted to be one of the most important novels of post World War II Korea.
In the 1970's the foundations of the "Asian tiger" of Korea's economy were being laid with little concern for the many small persons whose lives were completely flattened by the steam roller of modern globalized competitive capitalism. Perhaps the next generation benefited from the changes, at least in some sense, but the ruthlessness and the corruption with which this forced economic reform was carried out was particularly startling in Korea.
But there is no attempt to provide the "big picture" in this novel; the reader is shown what those being squeezed to millimeter thickness - the dwarfs of society - experience. It isn't pretty. Nonetheless, The Dwarf is not a lugubrious tract full of deadly earnestness, because Cho's empathy for his many and varied characters makes them come alive and Cho relates their stories with a flexibly changing, ironic tone not to be found in most muckraking books. Some of the characters are members of the privileged class; one of these, a rudderless son of an ambitious father, takes on three dimensions as well. I even felt for the father, until he beat his son with a steel cable because he didn't get the right score on his university qualifying exam...
There is no doubt, however, that muck is raked in this book. There are detailed passages on working in factories on the Ungang peninsula, where the wealth for the Seoul plutocrats was produced and where the air and water were so polluted that the life expectancy abruptly plummeted. Cho contrasts this with the life in the gated, guarded and serene communities in the Seoul hills where the plutocrats' families lived in comfort, health and safety. Same ol', same ol'... Now all of this is taking place in India and China.
The Dwarf is a thoughtful, insightful piece of social criticism enlivened, I re-emphasize, by convincing characters in real situations - I could not avoid comparing this text with Balzac's books.
Of the stack of Greek, Thai and Korean books I have been reading in the past few months, this is the first to present a non-straightforward narrative structure, but as this is also the first yŏnjak sosŏl I've read, I have no idea what is standard to the genre and what is unique to this text. In each of the different segments (short stories?) of the book one character's thoughts are privileged, and various characters reappear in the segments of some of the others, the eponymous dwarf appearing in nearly every segment; the segments are also not presented in chronological order. These two fracturing and reshuffling components compel the reader to actively organize the stories into a more or less coherent whole - a well known device from modernist texts, of course, but again I am unclear about how much is modernist influence and how much is an inherent convention of the yŏnjak sosŏl genre.
(*) According to a German Wiki, the 150th Korean printing of The Dwarf occurred in 2002!
" People called father a dwarf. They were right. Father was a dwarf. Unfortunately, people were right only about that. They weren't right anything else..."
-Cho Se-Hui, A Dwarf Launches a Little Ball-
When it comes to reading books which themes have something to do with physical deformities such as dwarfism, the condition of abnormal growth as what we learned from Genetics, the best examples are novels reflecting in social life of India such as A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry and A Son of the Circus by American novelist, John Irving . I can understand that such body condition CAN exist in India where the scenes of poverty are probably, in theory, the leading factor. However, in a developed and industrialized country as well as heralded as the “Electronics Capital of the World”, South Korea, such idea is inconceivable. Perhaps, I have never met any Korean students with this genetic disease yet. Besides, as far as I learned, the Korean government provides its citizens with good health services. In other words, all of them can have free access to life and health services. So, I was just deluded into the fact that all Koreans were “physically” perfect. That is why I was flabbergasted by the title of this book which has something to do with a dwarf. In the end, the setting of the story was when South Korea was still a poor country.
In an impoverished neighborhood in the outskirts of Seoul, there was a dwarf whose name was Kim Bur-ri, living as a head of his family. Ironically, the name of the place was Happiness District, Paradise County. Eventually, the neighborhood would go into redevelopment as part of South Korea’s industrialization at that time. Kim Bu-ri’s house would be one of the houses to be demolished. But the heart of the matter was how each member of the family, particularly the dwarf’s three children would struggle desperately to restore the broken pieces of their lives brought about by the political-economic dilemmas.
The style of the story has a little resemblance to Japanese stories. (Probably , Japanese literature influenced Korean literature or vice-versa. ) The tone is dead-flat, direct but quite soft and calm. It is not that strong as what I feel in other novels. Besides, it is a combination of realism and fantasy which adds literary excitement to a reader like me. In addition, the flow of the story is meditating and cathartic , typical of a writer who releases his burden feelings with the practice of yoga or Zen meditation. Thus, it is not that boring as I had expected . I wonder if the pathos is the same as the original Korean version.
“Misconduct, corruption, bureaucratic cleanup - there was a time when those words appeared almost daily in the newspaper. Only then did the family in back lower the volume on their TV. They stowed away their refrigerator, washer, piano, tape player, and other such possessions in the basement and brought out their old clothes to wear in public."
-Cho Se-Hui, A Dwarf Launches a Little Ball-
If I try to understand the deeper part of the story without much knowledge of the Korean history, the concept deals with how social changes like industrialization affect human life, particularly a family. In the story, figuratively, dwarf Kim Bur-ri symbolizes poor and socially marginalized people , lagging behind the political-economic changes. What happens is how the impact of the industrialization affects the family values. In the story, Kim Bu-ri came to the point that he ended up losing his dignity by working as a dwarf acrobat.
As I am falling to reading Eastern literature such as Japanese and Korean literature , I come to the realization that there is really something unique about the novels written by East Asian writers. Sometimes, I conclude that as the History serves, all eastern Asian nations were one place. So, hypothetically, they had the same culture and customs.
Különös könyv ez – de vigyen el a TEK, ha számottevő élvezetet leltem benne. Cso Sze-hi a ’70-es évek Dél-Koreájába kalauzol minket, az ázsiai kistigrisek káprázatos gazdasági csodájának korába – ám ennek a gazdasági csodának valaki megissza a levét. (Vagy nem kap a levéből, és szomjan marad. Nem tudom, stilisztikailag melyik a helyes.) Különálló novellák mozaikja ez, amik csak úgy ímmel-ámmal vannak összegereblyézve. Vannak ugyan benne visszatérő szereplők (például a címbeli Törpe), ismétlődő motívumok és újra felbukkanó történetszálak, de a regény címkét alighanem lerázná magáról a szöveg. De nem az eklektikussága zavart – hanem a didaktikussága. Ez a könyv időnként olyan hatást kelt, akár egy szakszervezeti törvénymódosítás illusztrációja. Tele van propagandával, szájbarágással, cudarul egyértelmű gazdagok-szegények szembeállítással, tisztára mintha egy irodalmi féreglyukból pottyant volna Szöulba mondjuk 1928-ból, Moszkvából. Persze ennek történelmi oka van: a korszak Dél-Koreáját ekkoriban érte el az az iparosítási hullám, amin a világ fejlettebb fele vagy ötven éve túl volt, természetesen logikus, hogy a szervezett munkássággal kapcsolatos problémák is ebben az időszakban jelentek meg. Ugyanakkor nem vagyok biztos benne, hogy eme nyűgöknek a megjelenítésére az irodalom a megfelelő fórum – én inkább a szórólapozást javasolnám.
Mindennek ellenére és ezzel együtt: nem tudtam nem bámulni A Törpe bizonyos sajátosságait – először is azt, mennyire szembe mer menni a klasszikus kelet-ázsiai szöveghagyománnyal. Ott a próza kulcsa a kiegyensúlyozottság, a harmónia, ami (ha vannak is a cselekmény szintjén anomáliák) a záró oldalon rendszerint ki-(és be)teljesedik. Itt viszont szó sincs harmóniáról, sőt, mindeneknek a szétszórattatását láthatjuk, az idő és a tér összezavarodik, a párbeszédek félbeszakadnak… ez a szöveg a destabilizációról szól, nyilván tudatosan. Másfelől itt van ez a nyugtalanító atmoszféra is: Cso Sze-hi világában a szegények, elesettek és lemaradók nem csak gazdasági értelemben elveszettek, hanem mintha egy másik univerzumban ragadtak volna. Ebben az univerzumban még a természeti törvényekben sem bízhatunk, a dolgok összezavarodnak, az emberek testi hibával születnek (púposak, kacskalábúak vagy törpék) – nekik nem adatott meg az, ami a gazdagoknak: hogy egy kiszámítható, kapaszkodókkal teli világban éljek le életüket. De mintha Cso Sze-hi látná a kiutat, az elesettek gyerekei már erősek, tevékenyek, akarják a változást, és már kezdik érteni a szabályokat is – ami az első lépcsőfok ahhoz, hogy át is alakítsák azokat. Ők már tudják: a társadalom valójában egy Möbius-szalag* – első pillantásra mintha két oldala lenne, egy alsó, meg egy felső, de valójában a kettő (az alsó és a felső) ugyanaz.
“Those ‘educated’ people who read Hamlet and shed tears over Mozart’s music perhaps have lost the capability to weep over the desperate suffering of their neighbours?”
The idea was interesting, an outcast in both a physical and social sense, harboring the weight of capitalist civilization on his shoulders; an investigation of the adverse consequences of economic growth in modern South Korea. The problem though, was in the execution. The prose struck me as amateurish and the story seemed illogical and unrealistic.
A best-selling novel and virtually a classic of modern Korean literature, The Dwarf was originally published as twelve separate stories which were later combined into a novel. It concerns the period of Korean history under President Park Chung Hee, when the country was being transformed from a largely agricultural economy to the industrial, technological country it is now. The forced modernization of the country created extreme class differentiation and class struggles, similar to those in the West during the Industrial Revolution (the parallel is discussed in the novel) as well as those in Jamaica during the fifties and sixties, and Egypt and India at about the same time: I was reminded of Mahfouz's Midaq Alley and Mistry's A Fine Balance. The book is largely about labor struggles, but as in those two novels the advanced style keeps it from being a simplistic "worker's novel" in the sense of "socialist realism." (It's suggested in some reviews of the book that the style was partly to disguise the political criticism in stories written under the repression, but I can't really believe that it wouldn't have been quite apparent to any half-competent censor.)
The first and last stories feature a math teacher talking about Mobius strips and Klein bottles, which establish a sort of symbolic theme of the interior and exterior becoming one, and two disabled persons, Squatlegs and Hunchback. The second story introduces the character of a poor house wife Shin-ae, who hires a dwarf to fix her outdoor faucet so she can get water. We next meet Yun-ho, the adolescent son of a well-off lawyer who is trying to get into the University. This story also introduces the character of his tutor, Chi-sop, who plays a role later in the novel. Through Chi-sop, Yun-ho meets the Dwarf Kim Pul-i (of course a symbol for the "little people", but also developed realistically as a character) and his wife and three children, the Eldest Son Yong-su, the younger brother Yong-ho, and the sister Yong-hui. The incident which begins the plot of the novel is when the slum neighborhood in which the Dwarf lives (ironically named Felicity Precinct of Eden District) is torn down as part of an Urban Renewal Project. Of course, there is much corruption involved and the compensation which the residents receive is not enough to get the apartments they are supposedly entitled to. As a result, the family moves to Ungang, an industrial area of toxic pollution, where the Dwarf dies (unclear whether by accident or suicide, but the latter is strongly suggested) and his three children get jobs in the factories of the Ungang group. This forms the longest story in the novel, "The Dwarf Launches a Ball", which is frequently published separately. (The Wikipedia article on the novel appears to confuse the two.) While the novel shifts among all the characters (it is sometimes difficult to follow who is doing what) the main focus is on the conditions in Ungang and the struggle against management and the complicit company-union, and the story of Yun-ho gets lost. Near the end, one story is about the leader of the Ungang group and his family.
I find this to be one of those books that needs a reread, possibly multiple rereads, in both English and Korean, to comprehend. It's important to note that this is a set of interconnected short stories published between 1975 and 1978, with the second story in this collection, Knifeblade, which focuses on a woman named Shin-ae and her family, who are part of the new middle-class in Korea, being the first released. While each story is fascinating and unique, I find that the standouts - on both a "this is easy to read" and "this is seriously impacting me" sort of level - include the aforementioned Knifeblade, A Dwarf Launches a Little Ball (from which the Korean edition gets its name), and Orbital Rotation. Every story, however, is worthwhile, and you simply can't read one story without reading the others. It's also interesting to note that this is a work of "worker fiction," which, through its use of irony, managed to make its way through the censors of mid-1970s Korea and address the worker issue in a very blunt way. That being said, this is a work of High Literature - literature with a capital L. It may be difficult to work your way through the first time, but it'll be worth it in the end.
I read this book because of its place in Korea literature as a classic. "The Dwarf" consists of linked stories set during the years of fast industrial modernization circa 1970's Korea. The title points to the insightful, physically challenged main character and his family whose generations experience first-hand the disorientation to daily life and the pollution of surroundings from those laxly regulated consequences.
The chapters take the perspective of different socio-economic groups. The Dwarf's children form part of the multitude who operate the unpleasant factory machines but neither earn adequate compensation nor work in safe conditions. The author also portrays the Ĕngang Group's chairman and family members associated with that conglomerate, some of whom stand to inherit it. As the promising face-to-face interaction of all those groups for a fair settlement fizzles out, the temptation to use violence arises. The author through the character Hunchback cautions against that because it never ends.
The awful description of reality, which still occurs, nevertheless shows the perennial human spirit and love for others as well as the perseverance of nature.
This is by far one of the most compelling Korean novels that I have ever had the pleasure of reading. The social criticism that this work provides on Korea’s economic situation in the 70s is tremendously fascinating. The government’s forced redevelopment plans play a central theme throughout each of the 12 stand alone short stories that this work is comprised of, and reminds us that the "Korean miracle" isn't exceptional and has a very dark background. While each of the 12 narratives are in some way or another linked, they do not provide a clear and linear plot and works much more like a theoretical novel akin to David Mitchell's structure in many of his works; so be warned - this is not an easy read.
The overall questions that this work is tackling is quite clear: How did the socioeconomic positioning formed by growing wealth gap contribute to emotional and psychological issues of individual people? How has rapid industrial redevelopment and modernization created this problem in 1970s South Korea? What is the contradiction of a system that promises meritocracy with opportunities, when so many don’t have financial security?
I'd recommend this book to anyone interested in analyzing Korea's economic positioning through a work of fiction, but again, it's not a light read.
Symbolism! The novel revolves entirely around symbolize, which creates a pervading ambiguity. At the same time, it represents the stark reality of the 1960-70's in South Korea as it was modernizing. The exploitation of the laborers, the prevalent sexual promiscuity, the lack of taking responsibility, and the overall sense of hopelessness is shown through a variety of characters in from every class. Corruption, pollution, poverty, and death are the background like that of England in the 18th century. It raises questions of how society should be governed, how to do factories operate without exploitation, and whether modernization can occur without incurring extreme social ills against the majority of the population. Be ready to think!
As much as I know that this book is extremely important in Korean literature , I could not fully immerse myself in it and did not fully appreciate its complexity and relation to korean history. If you are considering trying to understand modern Korean society, I would recommend reading this book. However if you are looking for something with more artistic leanings , or emotional stories I would suggest reading a different book. In order to completely understand the narrative you need to read up the time in Korean history that it revolves around. If you do not, you will be at a loss.
If you're studying Korean culture, there's a pretty good chance that you've read a popular chapter from this book. I must have read it in 2-3 different courses. At that time however, I thought it was just a short story but lo and behold, it's a whole book! I don't know why but throughout this story, I thought the dwarf was magical but turns out he's just a small person. So get that clear before you read the book because there is no happy ending. I'm not sure if this is a book I would read for enjoyment, but it is definitely a good book to analyze and refer back to in papers. So read this book if you're into the whole academic scene, love making connection to the Korean culture/history or nerding out, otherwise if you're looking for just a simple entertaining book to read, go elsewhere.
"لقد عمل أبي دائما بجد، وعانى كثيرا أيضا، ولم يكن وحده من عانى؛ فقد عانى أبوه وجده وأبو جده... وهكذا من جيل إلى جيل، لكن ربما عانى أسلافه أكثر"
حي السعادة يقع ضمن خطة التطوير في كوريا فيأتي قرار إزالة لجميع البيوت فيه، ومنهم أسرة القزم.. يعمل القزم ويكد ليبقي أسرته على قيد الحياة.. أسلاف القزم وزوجته كانوا عبيدا، ولكن العبودية انتهت ومع ذلك تعيش الأسرة في شقاء وعذاب ربما لا يقل عن ما تحمله أسلافهم. ولكنه يملك بيتا كدليل على حريته فيأتي قرار الإزالة مع عدم تقديم بديل مناسب كدليل إضافي على أن العبودية لم تنتهي. أحداث الرواية وما يظهر فيها من فساد سياسي واقتصادي لا يبشر بالمستقبل العظيم الذي تعيشه كوريا الجنوبية الآن!!!
"Father had no dignity and no redemption would have been possible for him. There was only suffering."
"I couldn't get up. I lay still with my eyes closed. Like an injured bug, I was lying on my side. I couldn't breathe. I beat my chest with my hands. In front of the remnants of the house stood father. Father was short. Mother came around the corner, carrying injured father on her back. Blood was dripping from his body. I called for my brother in a loud voice. They came out. We stood in the yard and looked up at the sky. A black iron ball flew across the sky directly over our heads."
Extremely difficult to stomach, but this book is everything. It's simple and immensely complex, cohesive, and full of self-aware satire. I want to analyze these characters for days, and I think a whole other book could be written about the experience of the women in this novel, especially Yong-hui and the other weaving factory workers.
The metaphors are universal and oft-repeated, but not in a tiresome way. Each reminder of the Möbius strip or its companion, the Klein bottle, fleshes out a new insight about the characters and their situation. Incredibly glad I got to read this book.
Coulda been a little better. I liked the story a great deal but the politics, the message, hits you over the head again and again, particularly the third section--which was easily the best section. Part two was disjointed and had a surprising number of typos.
That it's part of a larger novel is sort of exciting, maybe it will round it out a little more.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A good introduction to issues relating to redevelopment and poverty in South Korea. This translation has a handful of typos and the spacing sometimes makes it difficult to follow. If it were not for these mistakes, it would have gotten 4 stars from me.
Touching story with an interesting backdrop likely unknown to most Westerners, but sometimes too difficult to follow for my taste. For those impressed by the industrial and economic miracle that is Korea, Cho reveals a snapshot of the sacrifices underlying it.
Well, this was a roller-coaster of emotion. Oppression is always a theme where it boils your blood and pity the weak, but when the time really comes, I wonder if people would really ever not put themselves first.
چوسےہوئی کا ناول بونا آدمی انیس سو ستر کی دہائی کے جنوبی کوریا میں محنت کش طبقے کی مشکلات کو بیان کرتا ہے۔ یہ کہانی ایک غریب خاندان کے گرد گھومتی ہے جو غربت، جبری بے دخلی اور سماجی ناانصافیوں کا سامنا کرتے ہیں۔ مرکزی کردار کے طور پر ایک شخص جو کہ بونا ہے سامنے آتا ہے، بونا ایک علامتی کردار ہے جو استحصال زدہ طبقے کی بے بسی کو ظاہر کرتا ہے۔
مصنف کی تحریر جذباتی، علامتی اور حقیقت پسندی کا امتزاج ہے۔ کہانی مختلف کرداروں کے نقطہ نظر سے بیان کی گئی ہے، ہر باب گویا ایک مختلف کہانی ہے۔ یہ ناول پڑھنا تھوڑا مشکل ہے۔ اس کا اسلوب گہرا اور پیچیدہ ہے، اور اس میں غیر روایتی بیانیہ انداز اپنایا گیا جو بعض اوقات پیچیدہ اور بوجھل محسوس ہو سکتا ہے، مگر اس کا بنیادی پیغام بہت واضح ہے، ترقی اور جدیدیت کی قیمت ہمیشہ کمزور اور محروم طبقہ چکاتا ہے۔
Den här samlingen av noveller hade sina ljusglimtar. Sättet författaren växlar mellan scener och dialoger ger ibland en kraftfull effekt. Ibland blir det istället bara staccato och förvirrande. Ämnet, om skenande teknisk utveckling och det ekonomiska och sociala förtryck som följer för arbetarklassen, intresserar mig och det är nog det som får mig att truga på trots att jag upplever boken som tungläst. Handlingen är bitvis svår att smälta. Troligen är det en form av symbolism som jag inte riktigt förstår eller uppskattar.
"أما أولئك "المثقفون" الذين يقرأون هاملت، ويذرفون الدمع إذا سمعوا مقطوعة موسيقية لموتزارت، ربما فقدوا القدرة على البكاء على المعاناة البائسة لجيرانهم!" "الحكم هو توفير العمل للناس، وتمكينهم من أن يقدِّروا تراثهم الخاص، وجعل حياتهم ذات معنى... خشية أن يهيموا بلا هدفٍ في أرض خراب ليس فيها شيء من ذلك التراث".
الترجمة كانت غريبة بعض الشيء وأشعر أنني بحاجة لإعادة قراءتها لاستيعاب جميع رمزياتها وتسلسل أحداثها الزمنيّ والإبهام -المُتعمّد في اعتقادي- فيها، لكنّها في المجمل دقيقة وفريدة في فكرتها وسردها.
قصة عقيمة عن معاناة الطبقة المهمشة في المجتمع الكوري في فترة السبعينيات تبدو الأحداث وكأنها غير مترابطة تماماً..ربما تكون الترجمة هي السبب!! قالك رواية ملهمة، وتثير وجعاً إنسانياً!!! لكنها لم تحرك لي ساكن!!
Shows the dark side of South Korea's rapid industrialization; also raises questions of dis/ability and humanity that are relevant today; would the moon be a better place to live?