Yi Gwang-su's (이광수) 흙 was originally published, in newspaper serialisation, in the Dong-A Ilbo in 1932-33, written under, and set at, the time of the Japanese occupation of Korea.
It was translated into English in 2013 as "The Soil" by the husband and wife team of Hwang Sun-ae and Horace Jeffery Hodges, as part of the Dalkey Archive Library of Korean Literature.
The story centres on the figure of Heo Sung (허숭), a trainee lawyer, from a rural family. The family was once prosperous but fell on hard times when the father was caught up in the Korean independence movement, ultimately leading to disease killing off Heo Sung's parents and siblings. The local villages themselves have also falls into decline, as the traditional way out of rural poverty, via studying for the national civil service exams, becomes less increasingly less viable. As one elder remarks: "'There's been no use for scholarship or in being Yangban nobility since the Reformation of 1894.'"
"As the villages slowly declined, the courageous gave up their government offices, tied headbands to their brows, the threw away their books and brush pens to wield hoes in rice paddies instead. Some, however, buckled down, sticking to their offices and hoping for the glory of old times."
This tension, between the traditional way-out route of study and the need to buckle down to a more primitive agricultural existence, lies at the heart of the novel. Heo Sung, as a proxy for the author's views, seeks to resolve this conflict by using his learning to advancing the lot of the rural worker via social reform, such as establishing kindergartens and workers cooperatives.
Heo Sung himself initially seeks his fortune in Seoul in the traditional way, working as a tutor for an aristocratic official Mr Yun, as he prepares for the law exams. A fellow law student, Kim Gap-jin (김갑진), a pro-Japanese city-dweller and son of a aristocrat, set up in the novel to represent the opposite views to Heo Sung, tells him:
"You'd be better off going back home to farm the soil of your forefathers instead of feeding yourself on cold rice and staying in a servant's room of some house, just living off somebody, which is so disgusting..."
("남의 집 행랑 구석에서 식은 밥이나 죽이지 말고, 가서 조상 적부터 해먹던 땅이나 파. 괜히시리 아니꿉게 놀고먹을 궁리나 말고...")
In a pivotal moment, Heo Sung realises:
"This was true. The rice paddies, fields and mountains where ancestors had toiled in blood and sweat - which would yield rice, vegetables, clothes, or all necessities of life if one worked them hard enough - had either been hocked at high interest or sold to support sons and daughters studying in Seoul. The only aim now of parents and children was to lead a life without tiling the soil. With dark-tanned faces, large rough hands, big feet, meek eyes, and rugged bodies, these offspring of farmers who have lived for generations by their muscles working land and struggling against nature now wore ill-fitting city clothes and roamed the streets."
But Sung has the chance to rise above this, and join the city aristocrats, when he, much to Gap-Jin's disgust, is favoured by Mr Yun to marry his daughter and heir Jeong-seon (윤정선), making his decision to move back to the countryside all the more of a heroic sacrifice.
All this is set up in the first 10% or so of the novel. The rest of the novel tells a rather involved story of both Sung's efforts to reform the local community but also of his personal relationships.
In the former, the novel at times becomes very didactic (I've hardly seen a review of the novel that doesn't have to reach for that word). The author clearly has some strong views on the necessary reforms to Korean society, and the characters are forced to expound them at length.
The latter involves some very tangled love affairs - replete with extra-marital sex, illegitimate children, violence between both spouses and love rivals - throughout which Sung himself displays little but virtue.
And that highlights one rather major weakness of the novel. Too many of the characters are unrealistically virtuous (e.g. Sung, his mentor Mr. Han Min-gyo 한민교, and "Little" Gap 작은갑, a peasant farmer who takes up Sung's cause), or the opposite. The "bad" characters in particular, are more types than fleshed out people, the cynical Gap-Jin, Dr Lee Geon-Yeong (이건영) representing the Korean academic who lives a dissolute life, and Yu Jeong-geun, son of the local landowner, representing those who oppress the farmers.
The novel is rather less sentimental about the Korean people generally. In one telling remark, his mentor Mr Han holds "that the common malice of Koreans was to make trouble over things that could no longer be recovered, thereby further increasing the harm for both sides."
Sung's efforts to established an idealised cooperative are also ultimately not totally successful, and Yu seems to win out with cynical counter-reforms:
"The farmers had resented Sung's cooperative because it lent only for food during the lean time before harvest, for cost of medical treatment, or for buying farming tools, and they had welcomed Yu's new cooperative that lent money for anything, even parties or gambling, as long as there was collateral. The poor farmers had not foreseen that this would lead to utter ruin."
Having taken that realistically cynical view of his own ideals in practice, the end of the novel is rather a disappointment as Yi Gwang-su tries abruptly to wrap up his serialisation a little too neatly and quickly, including rather unrealistic about-faces from some of the previously irredeemable characters.
The political background to the novel is interesting, written as it was under Japanese occupation, and presumably some censorship. The author himself underwent a controversial, journey in his life from pro-independence radical to, well after the time of this novel, pro-Japanese collaboration, dying in 1950 in disfavour.
Sung tries to stay out (albeit unsuccessfully) of pro- or anti- Japanese discussions, preferring instead to promote Korean nationalism via self-reliance and self-improvement - independence with a small i. Korea's plight as an occupied nation is blamed not, at least directly, on the occupier but on the Korean nobility (the Yangban - referred to topically as "the 1%") for creating inequality: "they didn't lead the people properly, and that's why Korea is in such trouble now." Indeed the fecklessness of the Korean population is contrasted unfavourably to that of their occupiers in a scene where some soldiers in the Imperial Army are feted as they leave to fight in Manchuria. "Observing this dramatic scene of imperial enthusiasm, Sung felt so touched that he almost cried", whereas, in contrast, "neither Gap-Jin or Jeong-seon could understand the mindset of the Japanese, who were happy to sacrifice themselves for their country."
The translation copes well, preserving Yi Kwang-su's relatively straightforward prose style, and coping well with idiomatic expressions. For example: "Originally a building in Korean style, it was now renovated and vaguely Japanese or Western in a mix as confused as the rice and vegetable dish called bibimbap." Or, where the natural English colloquialism would be "Every Tom, Dick and Harry" we get "Every Kim, Lee and Choe" (the three most common Korean family names).
Ultimately, an enjoyable and informative read, if not particularly notable in pure literary terms.