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This groundbreaking classic of Korean modernism tackles the shattering effect of the division of Korea. Taking place just before the Korean War, it follows its protagonist as he travels to the North hoping to escape what he sees as the repressive right-wing regime in the South...only to find that a different sort of lie reigns in the so-called worker's paradise. Implying that both communism and capitalism are pernicious infections from without, The Square is a dark and complex story of the ways ideologies can destroy the individual.
255 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
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About the author
In-hun Choi
7 books12 followers소설가 최인훈
Choi In-hun was born in 1936 in Hoeryong City, North Hamgyong Province, which is now in North Korea. When the Korean War broke out in 1950, he and his family fled to South Korea aboard a U.S. Navy ship. He studied law at Seoul National University, but joined the army without completing his final semester. His began publishing fiction while in the army, and was discharged in 1963. From 1977-2001, he served as a Professor of Creative Writing at the Seoul Institute of the Arts.
Choi In-hun was born in 1936 in Hoeryong City, North Hamgyong Province, which is now in North Korea. When the Korean War broke out in 1950, he and his family fled to South Korea aboard a U.S. Navy ship. He studied law at Seoul National University, but joined the army without completing his final semester. His began publishing fiction while in the army, and was discharged in 1963. From 1977-2001, he served as a Professor of Creative Writing at the Seoul Institute of the Arts.
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February 6, 2017
A story written by a then 24 year old Choi In-Hun follows our philosophy student protagonist Lee Myong-jun torn between North and South Korea. Lee is exactly the sort of introspective, narcissist 20-something philosophy student you’d expect, wrestling with his righteous indignation and somewhat misogynistic tendencies. He wears his overly earnest heart on his sleeve and is frankly a mess. Disillusioned by the corruption of the South he escapes to the North but instead of finding the excitement of revolution discovers a flattened, ash-grey world. In the end he chooses to escape to a third place, a neutral county.
The book reminded me of my uncle who wrestled with the same demons and disappeared one day. Given up for dead it was only 40 years later that my mother learned he had left for North Korea. His name appeared in the national paper as part of reunification efforts and my mother went to meet him in North Korea. Unlike Lee, he wasn’t afforded the option of a third, neutral path and eked out a meager living as a university professor in the North. Living well by North Korean standards he was still emaciated, with crooked yellowed teeth in a borrowed suit confiding in my mother that all the gifts being handed over as a result of tearful reunions would never be seen by their intended recipients.
The book reminded me of my uncle who wrestled with the same demons and disappeared one day. Given up for dead it was only 40 years later that my mother learned he had left for North Korea. His name appeared in the national paper as part of reunification efforts and my mother went to meet him in North Korea. Unlike Lee, he wasn’t afforded the option of a third, neutral path and eked out a meager living as a university professor in the North. Living well by North Korean standards he was still emaciated, with crooked yellowed teeth in a borrowed suit confiding in my mother that all the gifts being handed over as a result of tearful reunions would never be seen by their intended recipients.
December 21, 2014
Coming-of-Age in the Korean War
On January 2, 1952, fifteen months before the signing of the Armistice Agreement that would end the combat phase of the Korean War, the United States delivered a proposal for the voluntary repatriation of prisoners to the negotiators at Panmunjom. Communists opposed the proposal because it violated the 1949 Geneva Convention, a document signed by the United States, which called for the automatic repatriation of POWs.
The issue of repatriation is at the center of Choi In-hun’s novel "The Square." The action begins on a ship, the "Tagore," which is carrying a group of North Korean POWs through the East China Sea. These former soldiers have decided not to repatriate, but to go to India. Because he speaks some English, Myong-jun mediates between the soldiers and the captain. Having spent several years in a POW camp at Geoje Island, the soldiers are getting restless and want to go ashore for some fresh air and female companionship when the ship docks in Hong Kong. The captain can’t allow this, and as tensions between the soldiers and Myong-jun intensify, Myong-jun reflects back on his life as a philosophy student in Seoul after liberation from Japan in 1945 and before the outbreak of war in 1950.
Before the war, Myong-jun was an angst-ridden, sexually frustrated, and mildly misogynist philosophy student, in other words a typical philosophy student. Myong-jun wants to lead a meaningful life, but finds it is impossible in Seoul, where the empty pursuit of money, power, and sex rule everyday life. As the recent “nutgate” drama involving Heather Cho, the deposed Queen of Korean Air reveals, Myong-jun’s critique of capitalist South Korea is just as relevant now as it was in 1960:
“When the men who went west to learn so-called democracy came back, they got up and stood on the backs of the people. They kicked the people in the stomach with their shiny, foreign shoes.”
Like Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty in Jack Kerouac’s "On the Road," Myong-jun exclaims that he “wanted to LIVE. Really live! It was BECAUSE I wanted to live life as it should be lived…” (like Kerouac, Choi is passionate about using ALL CAPS for emphasis). But it is impossible for a philosopher-poet like Myong-jun to live deeply in South Korea, so he decides to go the North to find his father, a labor leader who defected after liberation from Japan. Unfortunately, the road is blocked at the 38th Parallel, so he has to be smuggled across the border. When Myong-jun reaches North Korea, he doesn’t find the lively worker’s utopia that he imagined, but rather a Stalinist dystopia, a “hollow mockery of communism.” There is no passion for revolution in North Korea, but rather mindless conformity, where “those who peddle revolution rake in the money.” Myong-jun’s meditations on North Korea, like those on the South, are more than a little relevant to the present.
Myong-jun’s repeated protests against conformity and phoniness in both South and North Korea resemble at times that icon of Cold War American rebelliousness, Holden Caufield. Like Holden, Myong-jun can come across as a bit overbearing and pretentious. But it’s important to keep in mind that like "Catcher in the Rye" or "On the Road," "The Square" was a generation-defining novel when it was published in 1960, shortly after the April Revolution in which students and labor groups overthrew the authoritarian president Syngman Rhee. Choi’s critique of a divided Korea was a revolutionary novel written in a revolutionary time.
The narrative of "The Square" anxiously jumps back and forth in time and space, between the Tagore and Seoul and Pyongyang and Incheon and Geoje Island, thus mirroring a schizophrenic Korean identity, split at the 38th Parallel and torn by warring ideologies and armies. Myong-jun wants to escape this mess, so he plans to go to India and invent an ordinary life for himself when he is released from the POW camp. He fantasizes about working as a hospital-gate guard, a fire station watcher, or a theater-ticket seller when he gets to Calcutta. Before the war, Myong-jun wanted to escape “the square,” a symbol of ideological confinement and routine. But after the war and time spent in the POW camp, he wants to climb into the safety of a square of his own design in a new country where he can exist in anonymity.
The Square addresses an important though little known war within the Korean War involving the voluntary repatriation of POWs, a theme also addressed by Ha Jin’s "War Trash" (2005) and Paul Yoon’s "Snow Hunters"(2013). This subgenre of Korean War literature confronts a divided Korea, a republic that was “bleeding, torn by tanks, cannons, and soldiers,” as Myong-jun describes it, as a necessary step toward overcoming division.
I don’t want to give away the ending, so readers will have to read the novel to find out whether Myong-jun realizes his diasporic dreams in India or not.
On January 2, 1952, fifteen months before the signing of the Armistice Agreement that would end the combat phase of the Korean War, the United States delivered a proposal for the voluntary repatriation of prisoners to the negotiators at Panmunjom. Communists opposed the proposal because it violated the 1949 Geneva Convention, a document signed by the United States, which called for the automatic repatriation of POWs.
The issue of repatriation is at the center of Choi In-hun’s novel "The Square." The action begins on a ship, the "Tagore," which is carrying a group of North Korean POWs through the East China Sea. These former soldiers have decided not to repatriate, but to go to India. Because he speaks some English, Myong-jun mediates between the soldiers and the captain. Having spent several years in a POW camp at Geoje Island, the soldiers are getting restless and want to go ashore for some fresh air and female companionship when the ship docks in Hong Kong. The captain can’t allow this, and as tensions between the soldiers and Myong-jun intensify, Myong-jun reflects back on his life as a philosophy student in Seoul after liberation from Japan in 1945 and before the outbreak of war in 1950.
Before the war, Myong-jun was an angst-ridden, sexually frustrated, and mildly misogynist philosophy student, in other words a typical philosophy student. Myong-jun wants to lead a meaningful life, but finds it is impossible in Seoul, where the empty pursuit of money, power, and sex rule everyday life. As the recent “nutgate” drama involving Heather Cho, the deposed Queen of Korean Air reveals, Myong-jun’s critique of capitalist South Korea is just as relevant now as it was in 1960:
“When the men who went west to learn so-called democracy came back, they got up and stood on the backs of the people. They kicked the people in the stomach with their shiny, foreign shoes.”
Like Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty in Jack Kerouac’s "On the Road," Myong-jun exclaims that he “wanted to LIVE. Really live! It was BECAUSE I wanted to live life as it should be lived…” (like Kerouac, Choi is passionate about using ALL CAPS for emphasis). But it is impossible for a philosopher-poet like Myong-jun to live deeply in South Korea, so he decides to go the North to find his father, a labor leader who defected after liberation from Japan. Unfortunately, the road is blocked at the 38th Parallel, so he has to be smuggled across the border. When Myong-jun reaches North Korea, he doesn’t find the lively worker’s utopia that he imagined, but rather a Stalinist dystopia, a “hollow mockery of communism.” There is no passion for revolution in North Korea, but rather mindless conformity, where “those who peddle revolution rake in the money.” Myong-jun’s meditations on North Korea, like those on the South, are more than a little relevant to the present.
Myong-jun’s repeated protests against conformity and phoniness in both South and North Korea resemble at times that icon of Cold War American rebelliousness, Holden Caufield. Like Holden, Myong-jun can come across as a bit overbearing and pretentious. But it’s important to keep in mind that like "Catcher in the Rye" or "On the Road," "The Square" was a generation-defining novel when it was published in 1960, shortly after the April Revolution in which students and labor groups overthrew the authoritarian president Syngman Rhee. Choi’s critique of a divided Korea was a revolutionary novel written in a revolutionary time.
The narrative of "The Square" anxiously jumps back and forth in time and space, between the Tagore and Seoul and Pyongyang and Incheon and Geoje Island, thus mirroring a schizophrenic Korean identity, split at the 38th Parallel and torn by warring ideologies and armies. Myong-jun wants to escape this mess, so he plans to go to India and invent an ordinary life for himself when he is released from the POW camp. He fantasizes about working as a hospital-gate guard, a fire station watcher, or a theater-ticket seller when he gets to Calcutta. Before the war, Myong-jun wanted to escape “the square,” a symbol of ideological confinement and routine. But after the war and time spent in the POW camp, he wants to climb into the safety of a square of his own design in a new country where he can exist in anonymity.
The Square addresses an important though little known war within the Korean War involving the voluntary repatriation of POWs, a theme also addressed by Ha Jin’s "War Trash" (2005) and Paul Yoon’s "Snow Hunters"(2013). This subgenre of Korean War literature confronts a divided Korea, a republic that was “bleeding, torn by tanks, cannons, and soldiers,” as Myong-jun describes it, as a necessary step toward overcoming division.
I don’t want to give away the ending, so readers will have to read the novel to find out whether Myong-jun realizes his diasporic dreams in India or not.
January 5, 2017
Choi In-hun’s The Square (translated by Kim Seong-kon, review copy courtesy of the publisher) follows Lee Myong-jun, a released prisoner from the Korean War. Having been set free during one of the interludes in the conflict, he’s on a boat headed for a neutral country, having decided to look for a new life away from the peninsula. In between chats with one of the officers, and his attempts to keep his fellow refugees in order, he stands at the stern of the boat, looking out to sea and reflecting on his life.
First, we head back to Seoul, where the young philosophy student (the son of a Red agitator who has fled north) lives with a family friend. After some trouble with the authorities, he decides to follow his father across the border, despite romantic attachments at home. Disgusted by the lack of any real ideology in the south, he hopes to find his true calling in the north, but is disappointed there as well, meaning that when he’s offered the choice, he opts for a third way of living – if, that is, there’s anything worth living for.
The Square is set in and around the Korean War, yet there’s very little here about the actual conflict. Instead, Choi’s novel is a more ideological, philosophical work, describing one man’s attempt to work out the best way to live his life. At the centre of the novel is the Square, an imaginary forum where people meet, a theoretical equivalent of a public space, and the contrast Myong-jun draws with the Private Chamber, our mental refuge. If we’re to engage in society, it’s necessary to venture into the Square, but Myong-jun’s attempts to participate in public life invariably end in disappointment and disillusionment.
Life in the South, while comfortable, makes Myong-jun uneasy, with a gradual realisation that the country is a cruel place with no morals. This comes to a head after his ‘invitation’ to the police station, where he receives a painful, shocking beating. On escaping his ordeal, he reflects:
The detective’s impudence, sending him off in this state, made him more furious than when he was being assaulted. It revealed that it didn’t bother the police that a citizen came out of the station with a bloodstained shirt front. It was the same as saying it was all right for the whole country to see him walking outside this way. His body shivered, recollecting what the detective said: “I could easily kill a Red bastard like you and dump your body where nobody can find it.”
pp.53/4 (Dalkey Archive Press, 2014)
Even if his father hadn’t crossed over, most readers would suspect that Myong-jun’s sympathies are with a less materialistic society anyway, so it comes as little surprise when he takes a boat to the North.
However, once he does take the leap of faith, he’s even more disappointed, realising too late that the grass is rarely greener on the other side (even if it’s a brighter hue of red…). Criticised for reporting the truth in his newspaper writing, he discovers that the role of the foot soldier in the new republic is rather dull and proscribed:
What Myong-jun discovered in North Korea was an ash-gray republic. It was not a republic that lived in the excitement of revolution, passionately burning blood-red like the Manchurian sunset. What surprised him more was that the communists did not want excitement or passion. The first time he had clearly felt the inner life of this society was when he was traveling around the major cities of North Korea on a lecture tour by order of the party just after he had gone north. Schools, factories, citizens halls; the faces filling these places were, in a word, lifeless. They simply sat with passive obedience. There was no expression or emotion on their faces. They were not the ardent faces of citizens living in a revolutionary republic. (p.93)
An overwhelming feeling of disappointment comes over him with the realisation that the people have no say in this revolution. In fact, the expectation is that they act like sheep, mindlessly following orders from above – this Square, too, shows itself to be a mirage.
Choi’s novel is in many ways built upon parallels between the two Korean states, for example in the comparison of police beatings and denunciations. However, this is most obvious in Myong-jun’s relationships on either side of the border. In the South, the young Yun-ae teases him then pulls away; in the North, the dancer, Eun-hye, gives herself bodily to her lover, but is ready to sacrifice herself for her country. The two women are sexually very different (even though their names – intentionally – sound very similar), but Myong-jun attempts to find a balance between his interior world and the public Square with both of them. However, even if he finds temporary comfort in these little bubbles, in the long run his attempts to find somewhere between the Square and the Private Chamber are doomed to failure.
There’s a lot to like about The Square, with some nice writing in places, particularly the calm, languid style of the frame story on the boat. It’s a story of disillusionment, an examination of two very different societies with both being found wanting, and a fairly daring piece of writing too. This was one of the first major novels published after a political change in the South, meaning that Choi was able to express views which were impossible to voice earlier (and perhaps even later too…).
Yet there are certainly some issues with the novel, and one of these is the misogyny prevalent throughout. The main female characters are objects rather than real personalities, and Myong-jun’s ‘theories’ on women are fairly disturbing:
Women’s love is more complex than men’s. Women seem to be like a species that is unable to grasp what love really is. Listening to their chatter as he passed by, Myong-jun could detect the vanity of women. They seem to fall in love just because other women do. Was love just another accessory to these women? (p.36)
It can be difficult to sympathise with Myong-jun as he often comes across as a spoilt kid, possessive and jealous. On top of this is the translation, which, while not bad as such, comes across as fairly stilted, particularly in the spoken sections. I suspect that some of the text is overly literal – there’s a lot of room to move between English and Korean, and I’m not sure it’s been used here to great effect.
Nevertheless, The Square is an interesting novel, a reflection of the era, exposing black-and-white political thinking for the lie it is. Choi is adept at pointing out the similarities in the two Koreas’ inability to realise their ideal state while showing the difficulty of keeping true to yourself when entering the Square. This struggle to reconcile the two ways of thinking continues today, inside Korea and elsewhere, and like Myong-jun, the temptation to look for a third way is tempting – if only we knew where to look…
*****
This review originally appeared at my site, Tony's Reading List.
First, we head back to Seoul, where the young philosophy student (the son of a Red agitator who has fled north) lives with a family friend. After some trouble with the authorities, he decides to follow his father across the border, despite romantic attachments at home. Disgusted by the lack of any real ideology in the south, he hopes to find his true calling in the north, but is disappointed there as well, meaning that when he’s offered the choice, he opts for a third way of living – if, that is, there’s anything worth living for.
The Square is set in and around the Korean War, yet there’s very little here about the actual conflict. Instead, Choi’s novel is a more ideological, philosophical work, describing one man’s attempt to work out the best way to live his life. At the centre of the novel is the Square, an imaginary forum where people meet, a theoretical equivalent of a public space, and the contrast Myong-jun draws with the Private Chamber, our mental refuge. If we’re to engage in society, it’s necessary to venture into the Square, but Myong-jun’s attempts to participate in public life invariably end in disappointment and disillusionment.
Life in the South, while comfortable, makes Myong-jun uneasy, with a gradual realisation that the country is a cruel place with no morals. This comes to a head after his ‘invitation’ to the police station, where he receives a painful, shocking beating. On escaping his ordeal, he reflects:
The detective’s impudence, sending him off in this state, made him more furious than when he was being assaulted. It revealed that it didn’t bother the police that a citizen came out of the station with a bloodstained shirt front. It was the same as saying it was all right for the whole country to see him walking outside this way. His body shivered, recollecting what the detective said: “I could easily kill a Red bastard like you and dump your body where nobody can find it.”
pp.53/4 (Dalkey Archive Press, 2014)
Even if his father hadn’t crossed over, most readers would suspect that Myong-jun’s sympathies are with a less materialistic society anyway, so it comes as little surprise when he takes a boat to the North.
However, once he does take the leap of faith, he’s even more disappointed, realising too late that the grass is rarely greener on the other side (even if it’s a brighter hue of red…). Criticised for reporting the truth in his newspaper writing, he discovers that the role of the foot soldier in the new republic is rather dull and proscribed:
What Myong-jun discovered in North Korea was an ash-gray republic. It was not a republic that lived in the excitement of revolution, passionately burning blood-red like the Manchurian sunset. What surprised him more was that the communists did not want excitement or passion. The first time he had clearly felt the inner life of this society was when he was traveling around the major cities of North Korea on a lecture tour by order of the party just after he had gone north. Schools, factories, citizens halls; the faces filling these places were, in a word, lifeless. They simply sat with passive obedience. There was no expression or emotion on their faces. They were not the ardent faces of citizens living in a revolutionary republic. (p.93)
An overwhelming feeling of disappointment comes over him with the realisation that the people have no say in this revolution. In fact, the expectation is that they act like sheep, mindlessly following orders from above – this Square, too, shows itself to be a mirage.
Choi’s novel is in many ways built upon parallels between the two Korean states, for example in the comparison of police beatings and denunciations. However, this is most obvious in Myong-jun’s relationships on either side of the border. In the South, the young Yun-ae teases him then pulls away; in the North, the dancer, Eun-hye, gives herself bodily to her lover, but is ready to sacrifice herself for her country. The two women are sexually very different (even though their names – intentionally – sound very similar), but Myong-jun attempts to find a balance between his interior world and the public Square with both of them. However, even if he finds temporary comfort in these little bubbles, in the long run his attempts to find somewhere between the Square and the Private Chamber are doomed to failure.
There’s a lot to like about The Square, with some nice writing in places, particularly the calm, languid style of the frame story on the boat. It’s a story of disillusionment, an examination of two very different societies with both being found wanting, and a fairly daring piece of writing too. This was one of the first major novels published after a political change in the South, meaning that Choi was able to express views which were impossible to voice earlier (and perhaps even later too…).
Yet there are certainly some issues with the novel, and one of these is the misogyny prevalent throughout. The main female characters are objects rather than real personalities, and Myong-jun’s ‘theories’ on women are fairly disturbing:
Women’s love is more complex than men’s. Women seem to be like a species that is unable to grasp what love really is. Listening to their chatter as he passed by, Myong-jun could detect the vanity of women. They seem to fall in love just because other women do. Was love just another accessory to these women? (p.36)
It can be difficult to sympathise with Myong-jun as he often comes across as a spoilt kid, possessive and jealous. On top of this is the translation, which, while not bad as such, comes across as fairly stilted, particularly in the spoken sections. I suspect that some of the text is overly literal – there’s a lot of room to move between English and Korean, and I’m not sure it’s been used here to great effect.
Nevertheless, The Square is an interesting novel, a reflection of the era, exposing black-and-white political thinking for the lie it is. Choi is adept at pointing out the similarities in the two Koreas’ inability to realise their ideal state while showing the difficulty of keeping true to yourself when entering the Square. This struggle to reconcile the two ways of thinking continues today, inside Korea and elsewhere, and like Myong-jun, the temptation to look for a third way is tempting – if only we knew where to look…
*****
This review originally appeared at my site, Tony's Reading List.
February 9, 2016
"There is a two-thousand-year-old rumour that the Messiah has come. There is a rumour that God is dead. There is also a rumour than God has resurrected. And there is a rumour that communism will save the world.
We live among such a plethora of rumours. The layers of rumours are thick and heavy. It would be sad if we lived by rumours only.
This novel is an account of a man who is discontent with rumour and sets out on a journey to find the truth."
(Author's preface to the 1st edition)
광장 by 최인훈 (Choi In-Hun) has been translated as "The Square" by 김성곤 (Kim Seong-Kon). ("Square" in the sense of a public square, or plaza.)
The novel was published in 1960 in the aftermath of the April student revolution that overthrew President Syngman Lee and lead to a short-lived period of parliamentary democracy in South Korea.
The author took this opportunity to publish a book exploring the contrast of the South and North Korean societies and the flaws in each - both authoritarian but one based on capitalism and the other communism. Or as 최인훈 has it in the preface to the 1961 edition, the "private chamber" and "the Square":
"The Square serves as a private chamber from the masses. And the private chamber serves as a Square for the individual. If confined in either of them, humans cannot survive. In the Square, the bloodshed of a riot would dampen the earth. The confined cry of a madman would ring out from the private chamber."
The novel is set either side of the Korean war. The story begins near the end with the protagonist Lee Myong-jun, having been released from a POW camp in the South, and now on a boat to a neutral country, having declined to be repatriated to the North. We then cut back to his student days in South Korea to follow the train of events and, more importantly, the thoughts (oh, so many ponderous and naive thoughts) that led him to this decision.
He flees the South largely due to political repression (his father having earlier defected to the North, he is the subject of hostile police attention), although he also despairs of the shallow materialism of the leaders and the people:
"When the men who went west to learn so-called democracy came back, they got up and stood on the backs of the people. They kicked the people in their stomach with their shiny, foreign shoes.
The young people were no use, either. If they were not caught up in sex, jazz and the breasts of American actresses on movie posters, they were busy making friends with foreigners."
He too flees to join his father in the North but laments the joylessness of the society there:
"It was BECAUSE I wanted to live life as it should be lived that I came here. When I was in the South, no matter where I looked, there was no space anywhere where I truly lived and felt it was worthwhile. It was too foul and too gruesome a Square.
I am glad I, too, fled that land. But what have we run toward? This heavy air! Where are the people whose faces overflow with joyful smiles for having set up their own government?"
An example that initially puzzles him is the lack of enthusiasm from peasant farmers in the North to the land reform that ostensibly benefits them, but soon realises:
"Buying and selling farmland was forbidden. Farmland was national property. They had just changed from tenants of a landlord to being tenants of the state...The party imposed a yoke and a whip on the people as if they were cows plowing a field. They were not farmers but domestic animals."
As a historical-political novel this sounds quite promising and these brief passages in the middle of this nature are illuminating. There is, for example, a neat line about the communism being liked the church without the reformation ("Unfortunately there had been no Martin Luther in Stalinism.")
But, regrettably, the author chooses as his protagonist (and mouthpiece), a pretentious, misogynistic, self-obsessed and over-idealistic student of philosophy.
Myong-Jun himself laments, of books he read as a student, that he "was convinced that there must be some unspeakable truth hidden beneath the vague and meaningless messages. But try as he might, he could not find what the latent truth was." The reader of the novel experiences similar frustrations.
The prose comes across as unfortunately awkward, perhaps due to the translation, with clunky phrases like "I doubt whether or not he can float in the water" and odd similes and metaphors (which perhaps work better in the original). Indeed I struggled to get past the very first line: "The sea was breathing, tossing and turning its heavy blue scales that were much bluer than any pastel crayon." and by the novel's end wished I hadn't.
Myung-Jun's own thoughts are overwrought as in the following typical passage of tortuous metaphors:
"In the river of life, he tried to make himself part of the river bed and move in it. In the current of time, he tried to read the underlying meaning of life and fill in the emptiness. But life continued to flow, uninterested. He tried to grab sand, but it was also flowing with the river. He made up his mind not to allow the enchantress called 'thinking' back into his mind, once he comprehended the riddle of life. Sitting before the vanity mirror of the mind, he still could not, however, perceive his own true image and thus could not do his makeup well either."
After one of his lengthy philosophical monologues leaves his girlfriend unmoved ("'I suppose so,' Yun-Ae replied with genuine nonchalance.") Myeong-jun realises "he wouldn't get to her with this kind of dialogue, no matter how hard to tried to convey his agony to Yun-ae, it would still sound like a sentimental pop song to her." This is meant as a criticism of the "simple and naïve" Yun-Ae, "this woman whose upstairs had no occupants. Please forgive her for her banal sins.". But the reader can only sympathise with her.
And this ultimately is the novel's biggest failing. The validity of the criticisms of both the materialistic South and dogmatically Communist north is completely undermined by the naïve, idealistic and pretentious way that Myeong-jun voices them. Indeed while the blurb claims that the novel is about how idealism can destroy the individual, it is the protagonist who comes across as idealistic: his main laments of both the people of the South and North is actually that they aren't zealous enough - in the purity of their beliefs for the North and in their nationalism in the South. His is the dangerous message, not theirs.
This could still works as a "Catcher in the Rye" type flawed-character study (albeit another novel I abhor) but it is clear from his commentary that Choi In-Hun himself shares the protagonist's concerns. Indeed in the 1989 edition of the novel, and looking back on the four decades since he wrote the novel, the author laments:
"Although [Lee Myong-Jun] later realised that dreams could not easily come true, he would never have imagined that Korea would be under virtually the same circumstances forty years later."
We live among such a plethora of rumours. The layers of rumours are thick and heavy. It would be sad if we lived by rumours only.
This novel is an account of a man who is discontent with rumour and sets out on a journey to find the truth."
(Author's preface to the 1st edition)
광장 by 최인훈 (Choi In-Hun) has been translated as "The Square" by 김성곤 (Kim Seong-Kon). ("Square" in the sense of a public square, or plaza.)
The novel was published in 1960 in the aftermath of the April student revolution that overthrew President Syngman Lee and lead to a short-lived period of parliamentary democracy in South Korea.
The author took this opportunity to publish a book exploring the contrast of the South and North Korean societies and the flaws in each - both authoritarian but one based on capitalism and the other communism. Or as 최인훈 has it in the preface to the 1961 edition, the "private chamber" and "the Square":
"The Square serves as a private chamber from the masses. And the private chamber serves as a Square for the individual. If confined in either of them, humans cannot survive. In the Square, the bloodshed of a riot would dampen the earth. The confined cry of a madman would ring out from the private chamber."
The novel is set either side of the Korean war. The story begins near the end with the protagonist Lee Myong-jun, having been released from a POW camp in the South, and now on a boat to a neutral country, having declined to be repatriated to the North. We then cut back to his student days in South Korea to follow the train of events and, more importantly, the thoughts (oh, so many ponderous and naive thoughts) that led him to this decision.
He flees the South largely due to political repression (his father having earlier defected to the North, he is the subject of hostile police attention), although he also despairs of the shallow materialism of the leaders and the people:
"When the men who went west to learn so-called democracy came back, they got up and stood on the backs of the people. They kicked the people in their stomach with their shiny, foreign shoes.
The young people were no use, either. If they were not caught up in sex, jazz and the breasts of American actresses on movie posters, they were busy making friends with foreigners."
He too flees to join his father in the North but laments the joylessness of the society there:
"It was BECAUSE I wanted to live life as it should be lived that I came here. When I was in the South, no matter where I looked, there was no space anywhere where I truly lived and felt it was worthwhile. It was too foul and too gruesome a Square.
I am glad I, too, fled that land. But what have we run toward? This heavy air! Where are the people whose faces overflow with joyful smiles for having set up their own government?"
An example that initially puzzles him is the lack of enthusiasm from peasant farmers in the North to the land reform that ostensibly benefits them, but soon realises:
"Buying and selling farmland was forbidden. Farmland was national property. They had just changed from tenants of a landlord to being tenants of the state...The party imposed a yoke and a whip on the people as if they were cows plowing a field. They were not farmers but domestic animals."
As a historical-political novel this sounds quite promising and these brief passages in the middle of this nature are illuminating. There is, for example, a neat line about the communism being liked the church without the reformation ("Unfortunately there had been no Martin Luther in Stalinism.")
But, regrettably, the author chooses as his protagonist (and mouthpiece), a pretentious, misogynistic, self-obsessed and over-idealistic student of philosophy.
Myong-Jun himself laments, of books he read as a student, that he "was convinced that there must be some unspeakable truth hidden beneath the vague and meaningless messages. But try as he might, he could not find what the latent truth was." The reader of the novel experiences similar frustrations.
The prose comes across as unfortunately awkward, perhaps due to the translation, with clunky phrases like "I doubt whether or not he can float in the water" and odd similes and metaphors (which perhaps work better in the original). Indeed I struggled to get past the very first line: "The sea was breathing, tossing and turning its heavy blue scales that were much bluer than any pastel crayon." and by the novel's end wished I hadn't.
Myung-Jun's own thoughts are overwrought as in the following typical passage of tortuous metaphors:
"In the river of life, he tried to make himself part of the river bed and move in it. In the current of time, he tried to read the underlying meaning of life and fill in the emptiness. But life continued to flow, uninterested. He tried to grab sand, but it was also flowing with the river. He made up his mind not to allow the enchantress called 'thinking' back into his mind, once he comprehended the riddle of life. Sitting before the vanity mirror of the mind, he still could not, however, perceive his own true image and thus could not do his makeup well either."
After one of his lengthy philosophical monologues leaves his girlfriend unmoved ("'I suppose so,' Yun-Ae replied with genuine nonchalance.") Myeong-jun realises "he wouldn't get to her with this kind of dialogue, no matter how hard to tried to convey his agony to Yun-ae, it would still sound like a sentimental pop song to her." This is meant as a criticism of the "simple and naïve" Yun-Ae, "this woman whose upstairs had no occupants. Please forgive her for her banal sins.". But the reader can only sympathise with her.
And this ultimately is the novel's biggest failing. The validity of the criticisms of both the materialistic South and dogmatically Communist north is completely undermined by the naïve, idealistic and pretentious way that Myeong-jun voices them. Indeed while the blurb claims that the novel is about how idealism can destroy the individual, it is the protagonist who comes across as idealistic: his main laments of both the people of the South and North is actually that they aren't zealous enough - in the purity of their beliefs for the North and in their nationalism in the South. His is the dangerous message, not theirs.
This could still works as a "Catcher in the Rye" type flawed-character study (albeit another novel I abhor) but it is clear from his commentary that Choi In-Hun himself shares the protagonist's concerns. Indeed in the 1989 edition of the novel, and looking back on the four decades since he wrote the novel, the author laments:
"Although [Lee Myong-Jun] later realised that dreams could not easily come true, he would never have imagined that Korea would be under virtually the same circumstances forty years later."
November 1, 2019
The November read for the World Literature group on Goodreads, this short novel written in 1960 was among the first modernist novels in Korean. The translation is not perfectly idiomatic, but much better than many of the ones I have read lately. (This is the only book by Choi that I have found in English, but there are a couple in Spanish translation that I may read next month.) The novel begins with the protagonist, Lee Myong-jun, on board a ship of former POWs from the Korean War, en route to resettlement in India. We then follow his previous life through (possibly distorted) memories, first in South Korea, where he was persecuted because his father was a Communist who chose to live in the North, then as a "defector" himself in the North, where he becomes disillusioned with the Stalinist regime that he describes well as "an imitation of a revolution." (I'm always impressed by authors who realize the problem with these regimes is not that they are "communist dictatorships" but that they are bureaucratic parodies of communism, although oddly Choi -- or perhaps only Myong-jon -- doesn't seem to realize that that was true of the original Stalinist regime as well.) He joins the military during the Korean War, is captured by the Americans, spends some time in a POW camp and at the end of the war chooses to go to a "neutral country" rather than either South or North Korea.
The central theme of the book is contrasting "The Square" (always capitalized), the public, objective sphere of life, with the "room" or "private chamber" which represents the subjective private life of the individual, and arguing that The Square in both Koreas has been so corrupted that Koreans have retreated entirely into private life. (This is one of those "sixties" ideas on the borderline between phenomenology and Marxism; my philosophy-student subconscious kept suggesting vague and possiblly irrelevant memories of Habermas.) There is of course much about his loves and his mental life and growth. I enjoyed the novel. Unfortunately, as with so many novels that start out well, he can't seem to end it without introducing a rather mystical conclusion.
The central theme of the book is contrasting "The Square" (always capitalized), the public, objective sphere of life, with the "room" or "private chamber" which represents the subjective private life of the individual, and arguing that The Square in both Koreas has been so corrupted that Koreans have retreated entirely into private life. (This is one of those "sixties" ideas on the borderline between phenomenology and Marxism; my philosophy-student subconscious kept suggesting vague and possiblly irrelevant memories of Habermas.) There is of course much about his loves and his mental life and growth. I enjoyed the novel. Unfortunately, as with so many novels that start out well, he can't seem to end it without introducing a rather mystical conclusion.
November 14, 2021
J'ai trouvé ce livre incroyable.
January 6, 2024
« Quand un homme ne peut plus trouver une place sur laquelle il puisse donner un but à sa vie, que doit-il faire ? »
Cette question, véritable fil conducteur du récit, ne quittera jamais le narrateur, un jeune homme habitant en Corée du sud, dont le père est un activiste communiste resté au nord. Il se cherche encore, insatisfait de sa vie mais incapable de savoir ce qu’il voudrait.
« De façon à soulager son cœur de sa détresse, il se criait à lui-même : “Fais de ton mieux !” “Vis chaque instant intensément !” “Même si tu tombes d’innombrables fois, si tu déchires ta peau d’innombrables fois, cela vaut mieux que de vieillir intact !” Il ignorait comment faire de son mieux, comment vivre intensément, et quant à être blessé, il n’y avait que le chat de Yongmi pour s’accrocher à ses pieds. »
Quand il se voit menacé dans le sud à cause des activités de son géniteur, il décide de partir pour le nord. Cet endroit « rougeoyant comme le crépuscule de la Mandchourie » qu’il imagine occupé par de grands révolutionnaires enthousiastes de cette liberté nouvellement acquise. Son désarroi est grand lorsqu’il comprend que git là-bas « une république d’un gris de cendre » peuplée de visages « sans vie ».
« La place », c’est l’histoire d’un jeune homme perdu dans un monde détraqué. Pendant ma lecture, une phrase d’Erasme me revenait sans cesse : « C’est bien la pire folie que de vouloir être sage dans un monde de fous. » Le plus touchant dans tout ça, c’est que malgré la différence géographique et temporelle on s’identifie à ce personnage. Ses réflexions sont d’une pertinence bluffante, encore aujourd’hui. L’auteur écrit : « Si le fanatisme religieux était effrayant, le manque d’idéal était triste. » Cela ne fait pas écho en vous ?
Le tout saupoudré de la plume exquise de Ch’oe Inhun, qui, au détour d’une phrase, nous fait nous arrêter pour savourer. Comme celle-ci, par exemple…
« Myongjun écoutait par lassitude à l’intérieur ou à l’extérieur les bruits que font les choses précieuses en s’écroulant. »
Cette question, véritable fil conducteur du récit, ne quittera jamais le narrateur, un jeune homme habitant en Corée du sud, dont le père est un activiste communiste resté au nord. Il se cherche encore, insatisfait de sa vie mais incapable de savoir ce qu’il voudrait.
« De façon à soulager son cœur de sa détresse, il se criait à lui-même : “Fais de ton mieux !” “Vis chaque instant intensément !” “Même si tu tombes d’innombrables fois, si tu déchires ta peau d’innombrables fois, cela vaut mieux que de vieillir intact !” Il ignorait comment faire de son mieux, comment vivre intensément, et quant à être blessé, il n’y avait que le chat de Yongmi pour s’accrocher à ses pieds. »
Quand il se voit menacé dans le sud à cause des activités de son géniteur, il décide de partir pour le nord. Cet endroit « rougeoyant comme le crépuscule de la Mandchourie » qu’il imagine occupé par de grands révolutionnaires enthousiastes de cette liberté nouvellement acquise. Son désarroi est grand lorsqu’il comprend que git là-bas « une république d’un gris de cendre » peuplée de visages « sans vie ».
« La place », c’est l’histoire d’un jeune homme perdu dans un monde détraqué. Pendant ma lecture, une phrase d’Erasme me revenait sans cesse : « C’est bien la pire folie que de vouloir être sage dans un monde de fous. » Le plus touchant dans tout ça, c’est que malgré la différence géographique et temporelle on s’identifie à ce personnage. Ses réflexions sont d’une pertinence bluffante, encore aujourd’hui. L’auteur écrit : « Si le fanatisme religieux était effrayant, le manque d’idéal était triste. » Cela ne fait pas écho en vous ?
Le tout saupoudré de la plume exquise de Ch’oe Inhun, qui, au détour d’une phrase, nous fait nous arrêter pour savourer. Comme celle-ci, par exemple…
« Myongjun écoutait par lassitude à l’intérieur ou à l’extérieur les bruits que font les choses précieuses en s’écroulant. »
August 4, 2021
I dnf:ed this, so not sure if writing a review is suitable here, but I wanted to give the reason why I decided to gave up on this book even after getting over half way through it. This books topic sounded interesting based on the back text, but the actual content didnt feel to match the description, and I was left to wait when the actual story starts. There was no climax in the plot, no explanantion of the environment, or emotionally attaching charachters. Maybe the original Korean publication would be better since it is named as a contemporary classic in Korean literature. For me it felt more like a young mans individual struggle to find love and philosophy of life than inspection of the Korean society during the turbulant years of ideological division.
October 14, 2014
First published in 1960, this thought-provoking novel has become a classic of modern Korean literature. It’s the story of Lee Myeong-jun who is torn between the North and the South of his divided homeland. When his father defects to the North, Lee Myeong-jun is arrested and tortured. Disenchanted by the South he too travels north and joins the North Korean Army. When the Korean War breaks out he is captured and sent to a POW camp. At this point he faces a crossroads. He has come to realise he doesn’t belong on either side of the divide. He is disappointed and disillusioned by both the totalitarian communist North but equally by the corrupt capitalist South. He chooses to go to a neutral country when he is released, but this too proves to be no easy answer.
For the author the idea of The Square is a metaphor for a society where life is lived in the public arena and where there is no place for a Secret Room, a place where an individual can be free. The Square of North Korea is in opposition to the Secret Room of the South, but the author seems to come to the conclusion that both ideologies are lacking and Lee Myeong-jun remains both literally and symbolically displaced.
This is an extremely interesting novel, which sheds light on the political situation in Korea and how the conflict affected its people on both sides. Told from an objective point of view, it leaves the reader to decide for himself where, if anywhere, the hero can find his place in the world. It created a stir when first released, and it is easy to see why. If not always successful from a purely literary point of view, it is an immensely readable novel, and if the hero himself isn’t always likeable, his disaffection rings true and is symptomatic of much of today’s troubled world. I heartily recommend this book, particularly to readers in the west who would like to learn more about this divided and troubled country.
For the author the idea of The Square is a metaphor for a society where life is lived in the public arena and where there is no place for a Secret Room, a place where an individual can be free. The Square of North Korea is in opposition to the Secret Room of the South, but the author seems to come to the conclusion that both ideologies are lacking and Lee Myeong-jun remains both literally and symbolically displaced.
This is an extremely interesting novel, which sheds light on the political situation in Korea and how the conflict affected its people on both sides. Told from an objective point of view, it leaves the reader to decide for himself where, if anywhere, the hero can find his place in the world. It created a stir when first released, and it is easy to see why. If not always successful from a purely literary point of view, it is an immensely readable novel, and if the hero himself isn’t always likeable, his disaffection rings true and is symptomatic of much of today’s troubled world. I heartily recommend this book, particularly to readers in the west who would like to learn more about this divided and troubled country.
November 28, 2016
I had to read this book for a course on modern Korean literature in a political and sociohistorical context. This book was remarkable to read because it dares to shed light on the effects of the Korean War, which remains a highly charged topic in Korean society, while still remaining objective in its perspective. We often understand the Korean War in the context of the Cold War, with built up military tensions born out of conflicting political ideologies that resulted in proxy wars that served to function as displays of power. However, this novel is not particularly concerned with questions of how morally correct either of those political ideologies are. Instead, the narrative is centered on the paradoxical existence of two separate and opposed nation-states that idealize a particular world view so dogmatically that their pursuit of realizing it operates against the original theory of that doctrine’s foundation. The main protagonist, Myong-jun, makes attempts to understand why these contradictions exist by pursuing an idealized space for political debate. The whole novel is the main protagonists search for truth and ultimately his realization that both of Koreas' governments only nominally adhere to those ideologies. I enjoyed this work because of its contribution to that discourse, but I hated the main protagonist for his constant expression of male entitlement and underlying misogyny. I would still recommend this work, but just keep in mind that this isn't a light read, even though it's incredibly short, and that you shouldn't expect to like the character, which is common in this kind of literature.
February 10, 2015
Occasionally charming and a decent read as long as you don't mind being awash in angst and anguishing. What can you expect though, it's an existential novel from the 60's. The philosophizing is sophomoric, yet occasionally has it's moments of insight, farce and amusement (such as calling Christianity a sewage system which helps relieve the moral burden of political corruption in society). It has problems with misogyny and portrayal of women, some of which the author appears to be self-aware of and critiques while others go un-confronted.
Excerpts :
"Lincoln once said that a man is responsible for his face after forty."
- (had never heard that before)
"For example, all men in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea are responsible for loving others. Those who do not love others are enemies of the people, capitalist dogs, and imperial spies. Those who do not love others unconditionally will be executed. How about that?"
"Politics is the most unredeemed place in the Square of mankind. In Western countries, Christian churches assume a role like holy water purifying politics, absolving it of its sins. No matter how much political filth and scum pours out, Christianity swallows it up and carries it off. Metaphorically speaking western countries have an excellent sewage system. In human society, man cannot live without processing daily excrement. That is why we build purifying tanks. The same thing goes for politics. However, there are neither purifying tanks nor sewage systems to lap the garbage up. Especially in Korea's political Square, excrement and garbage just piled up."
Excerpts :
"Lincoln once said that a man is responsible for his face after forty."
- (had never heard that before)
"For example, all men in the Democratic People's Republic of Korea are responsible for loving others. Those who do not love others are enemies of the people, capitalist dogs, and imperial spies. Those who do not love others unconditionally will be executed. How about that?"
"Politics is the most unredeemed place in the Square of mankind. In Western countries, Christian churches assume a role like holy water purifying politics, absolving it of its sins. No matter how much political filth and scum pours out, Christianity swallows it up and carries it off. Metaphorically speaking western countries have an excellent sewage system. In human society, man cannot live without processing daily excrement. That is why we build purifying tanks. The same thing goes for politics. However, there are neither purifying tanks nor sewage systems to lap the garbage up. Especially in Korea's political Square, excrement and garbage just piled up."
November 26, 2014
This post first appeared on reading the thing
Words are awesome. It’s been a while since I fell in love with words, but I did in the novel “The Square” by Choi In-Hun.
The books guarded his naked body and soul much like armor, or a second skin, would.
What’s there not to love about this sentence? I tend not to want to underline quotes in a book, but here I kept on wanting get my marker out (and I read on a kindle, so that would’ve been… problematic). the story: young man lives in South Korea, moves to North Korea, searching for what gives life meaning and what it all (including love) means. How do you live a fulfilling life? The concept of “the square” is what gives this book it’s title, and what keeps returning: what ” virtual/mental space/discourse” do you share with people? How does this change over time and place? this made for an interesting discussion with my girlfriend (she’s a philopher, but sadly does not like to read fiction).
I chose this book to review on Netgalley ages ago, because I wanted to step outside my comfort zone, and read something from a non-western writer. I found it remarkably easy to step into the protagists’ shoes, which migyt have come from my zen-buddhist learnings. I would really recommend this book who is interested to look outside it’s own country and usual choice of authors, if not for the story, then for:
Love is a word filled to the brim with futile mistakes, hopes and beliefs.
Words are awesome. It’s been a while since I fell in love with words, but I did in the novel “The Square” by Choi In-Hun.
The books guarded his naked body and soul much like armor, or a second skin, would.
What’s there not to love about this sentence? I tend not to want to underline quotes in a book, but here I kept on wanting get my marker out (and I read on a kindle, so that would’ve been… problematic). the story: young man lives in South Korea, moves to North Korea, searching for what gives life meaning and what it all (including love) means. How do you live a fulfilling life? The concept of “the square” is what gives this book it’s title, and what keeps returning: what ” virtual/mental space/discourse” do you share with people? How does this change over time and place? this made for an interesting discussion with my girlfriend (she’s a philopher, but sadly does not like to read fiction).
I chose this book to review on Netgalley ages ago, because I wanted to step outside my comfort zone, and read something from a non-western writer. I found it remarkably easy to step into the protagists’ shoes, which migyt have come from my zen-buddhist learnings. I would really recommend this book who is interested to look outside it’s own country and usual choice of authors, if not for the story, then for:
Love is a word filled to the brim with futile mistakes, hopes and beliefs.
December 22, 2018
Myong-jun, a university student in Seoul when the Korean War breaks out, is swept up in the fighting and ends up as a POW. (Presumably he was in the Communist army; whether he joined it voluntarily or was kidnapped into it is unclear.) As the book begins he is aboard a ship that is taking him and other POWs who have declined to repatriate to South Korea to a neutral country. He has been chosen as the liaison between the captain of the ship and the POWs, and interacts with both, but especially the captain, who likes to pass the time sipping tea and conversing with him. Myong-jun was studying philosophy at university before the war and is very much given to philosophizing, and the book is so given over to this philosophizing as to allow a reader to think, “Ah, this is what a novel written by a philosopher is like!” (In fact Choi studied law, but the two subjects are not that different.) The question Myong-jun (and behind him the author) is grappling with is the relative strengths and weaknesses of the North Korean and South Korean polities. For him (them) the key to the issue is how far citizens must embrace a shared, openly declared, view of their polity – the (town) square of the title – and how far they are permitted to have their own, private, views. He sees advantages and disadvantages to both, and in the end can’t decide between them. It is worth pointing out that this is the author’s first significant published work and that he was only 24 when he wrote it.
June 28, 2024
مراجعة رواية #الساحة للكاتب الكوري #تشوي_إين_هون ترجمة #مروة_زهران و #آلاء_فتحي الصادرة عن #دار_صفصافة_للنشر_و_التوزيع_و_الدراسات 📝:
رواية رائعة أحببتها جدا وإستمتعت بقراءتها رغم الأوجاع والآلام التي تحملها.رواية نفسية وجودية كتبت بشاعرية مبهرة. أعتبر أن الترجمة كانت ممتازة لأنها حملت كل تلك التفاصيل الدقيقة من وصف وأحاسيس وجدانية ونفسية معقدة .الأسلوب والسرد مميزين ويبلغان القارئ بطريقة جميلة جدا، شاعرية وساحرة.
تبدأ الرواية على متن سفينة طاغور الهندية والتي كانت تعبربحر الصين الشرقي.كانت تحمل على متنها أسرى الح.رب الكورية المطلق سراحهم من مخيم الأسرى بجزيرة غوجيه.
كان لي ميونج جونغ الشخصية الرئيسية للرواية أحد هؤلاء الأسرى.
تتراوح الرواية بين الحاضر والماضي وبين كوريا الشمالية وكوريا الجنوبية والأحداث التي تقع على متن السفينة والتي تسببت في إسترجاع لي لذكرياته
نتعرف عن ماضيه من خلال ذكريات يسترجعها وهو بعرض البحر،ذكريات إمتدت ما بعد إنتهاء الحرب مع اليابان سنة 1945 إلى ما قبل إنطلاق الحرب ببن الكوريتين سنة 1950.
كان طالبا بقسم الفلسفة،يعيش في غرفة منفردة تقع في منزل صديق والده البورجوازي بكوريا الجنوبية.كان والده قد غادر إلى كوريا الشمالية وتركه وحيدا وأمه.
كان بحث لي مثبتا على إكتشاف معنى الحياة وتوقه لشيء يدفعه ويشغله ويعطيه معنى لها ليحس بوجوده.كان إنسانا ذو تساؤلات فلسفية،وجودية،وجدانية عديدة.كانت له تأملات مميزة تتسم بإهتمامه الشديد بالتفاصيل الطبيعية وكان يحب الشعر و يكتبه .
يبدو لي ذو مزاج متقلب ونفسية متعبة ومرهقة،كان يجهل مشاعره تجاه الجنس الآخر ويجهل التعامل معه.كان يشغله الجسد كثيرا وبحس بكبت جنسي وعاطفي كبيرين.يشعرك من خلال أفكاره أنه ميزوجيني إلى أقصى الحدود.
إنسان وحيد،تائه،ضائع،متألم ومتعب،يجهل ما يبحث عنه،له ذلك الغضب والسخط على كل الأوضاع المحيطة به وبما يحيطه.يتميز بإنطوائه،بعدم حبه للإختلاط،بحبه للعزلة والإنفراد.شخص يؤمن بالمبادئ المثلى،بالمدينة الفاضلة،بالقيم النبيلة والنقية.
في يوم من الأيام،يتم القبض عليه وإستجوابه من قبل الشرطة ويكون عرضة للعنف والإهانة وذلك لإعتقادهم بأنه من الشيوعيبن الثوريين وأنه"شيوعي أحمر"كوالده.إثر ذلك وبطريقة فجئية يقرر الرحيل والإتجاه إلى كوريا الشمالية عله يجد معنى للحياة وهدفا معينا.
في كوريا الجنوبية الرأسمالية وبالتحديد في سيول لم يكن يشعر بمعنى الحياة،يحس بالفراغ وكان ساخطا على الوضع،حيث الكل يسعى وراء المال والقوة والسلطة والمناصب.بلد تشغله حياة الترف والرفاهية واللهو والجنس،بدون أخلاقيات حسب رأيه.
بينما كوريا الشمالية الشيوعية التي تتبع الإيديولوجيا الماركسية وأفكار لينين وستالين فكان أفرادها كادحين،يعملون ليلا نهار،لا حياة فيها، فكانت السياسة مرهقة لشعبها الذي بدى يعاني الخضوع والطاعة العمياء ولا دراية له بذلك.
كانت مشاعره ممزقة بين الكوريتين،كوريتين متناقضتين،كان يحس بعدم الإنتماء لكلتيهما.
حينها أحس لي بأنه لم يجد تلك المدينة الفاضلة التي يبحث عنها وخاب أمله أيضا مرة أخرى،مما جعله في الحاضر وبعد إطلاق أسره،لا يود العودة لأي منهما بل الهجرة والإبتعاد والذهاب إلى كالكوتاطالبا الأمان ،الحياة،الحرية،العيش بكرامة وخاصة العدالة الإنسانية.بلد محايد ووطن مثالي.
لم يكن الوحيد بل كل الأسرى الذين كانوا معه على متن السفينة،كانوا يرغبون في بلد محايد.
رحلة بحث طويلة ودائمة لإخماد ما كان يحس به لي.
فهل سيكون هذا الإختيار الصائب ؟هل ستكون كالكوتا هي ذلك البلد المحايد الذي يحمل كل أحلامه؟هل ستكون هذه الوجهة الصحيحة والأخيرة أم ستكون له وجهة أخرى.
كان الهروب هو من الساحة.الساحة هذا المصطلح الرمزي الذي تكرر عدة مرات.
فالرواية تميزت بتكرار كلمتين إثنتين وهما الغرفة المغلقة والساحة.تعبيرين مجازيين نجدهما في كامل الرواية.
كانت الغرفة المغلقة،العالم المغلق للي،ذلك المكان الذي يلتجأ إليه،مساحته الخاصة،لاوعيه.مكان يبحث فيه عن نفسه،ليواجه نفسه،ليلتجأ إليها.كانت الغرفة مكانه الخاص حيث تأملاته،أفكاره،خوالجه،مشاعره وكل ما يمثله.كانت الغرفة ترمز للفرد،ترمز لكل ما هو شخصي.
بينما الساحة ،كانت ذلك المكان المخصص للأفراد مجتمعة،مكان يجمعهم،حيث الكل يتشارك في كل شيء.فكانت الساحة ترمز للمجموعة وبالتالي لكل ماهو موضوعي.
ربما الساحة ترمز أيضا لكوريا الجنوبية ببنما الغرفة إلى الشمالية،إذ أن التشبيه أو المجاز يعبر على ساحة لمجتمع حيث الحياة تكون في الساحة العامة،أمام الجميع دون أي خصوصية وحيث تنعدم الغرف المغلقة للفرد والمساحة الخاصة به.
يبدو من خلال الرواية أن الغرفة كما هو الحال للساحة مكانين يبيئان بالفشل ولا جدوى منهما.
الرواية تعالج ذلك التشتت والضياع والإغتراب الإنساني الأليم الذي كان نتيجة لمآسي الحرب في شبه الجزيرة الكورية.أيضا مخلفات هذه الحرب التي خلفت كوريتين متضادتان في صراع دائم راح ضحيته الشعب.
أسرى الحرب وغضبهم وخنقهم،معاناتهم في أوطانهم وهروبهم منها.
الإظطربات النفسية والإيديولوجية للكوريين وخاصة الشباب منهم في تلك الفترة الإنتقالية.
البحث عن الهوية وعن الإنتماء،البحث عن المثل وعن مقومات العيش الكريم.
نقد السياسة الكورية أو بالأحرى السياستين الرأسمالية بفسادها وجشعها وسرقتها ونهبها وجبروتها وإحتيالها والشيوعية بتسلطها وفرضها الخضوع وجعل شعبها بائسا،فقيرا،بدون حياة مما يتناقض مع مبادئها الأساسية.
عالج أيضا قضايا تتعلق بالجسد،بالرغبة،بالجنس،بالكبت،بالحب،بالصراع الوجودي.
صحيح أن الساحة رمزت إلى التجمع ومكان المجموعة،لكن الساحة كانت أيضا في الرواية ساحة السياسة،ساحة الشعب،ساحة الحياة،ساحة الموت،ساحة الصراع،ساحة المعركة،ساحة الح_رب،ساحة النفس،ساحة الحب.العديد من الساحات وتبقى ساحة واحدة في الأخير هي ساحة الإنسان.
أريد أن أضيف أن السرد والأسلوب كانا في غاية الجمال وحقيقة الترجمة نجحت في إبلاغ تلك الأوصاف والتشابيه والتعابير المجازية بطريقة رائعة.
هناك شاعرية كبيرة في الكتابة و وصف مكثف للطبيعة التي كانت ترمز لنفسية البطل من ضياع وحزن وتيه.
المطر والضباب والسحب والنورس والبحر والتلال والضباب والنجوم كلها كانت تفاصيل دقيقة جدا وجذابة.
كتب اشيوي إين هون هذه الرواية في سن الرابعة والعشرين وقد صدرت سنة1960،في وقت مازال حساسا في المنطقة.كبطله الرئيسي شهد الكاتب التحولات العديدة للكوريتين ،فقد فر مع عائلته من كوريا الشمالية إلى الجنوبية سنة 1950 وبذلك فهو يمثل ذلك الكوري المشتت بين شقين إثنين،بلد ولد فيه وبلد نشأ و درس فيه مما سيؤثر حتما على أولى كتاباته وقد ذكر الروائي في مقدمة الرواية أنه يفتخر بنيل شرف كتابتها لأنه كاتب كتب له العيش في الجمهورية الجديدة وبفضل الثورة الطلابية لأفريل 1960.
كانت أولى الكتابات للروائي وأيضا أولى الكتابات بعد الفترة الإنتقالية للمنطقة وتعتبر من أهمها في الأدب الكوري المعاصر والكتابة والتعبير بحرية.
أبدع إشيوي إين هون في هذه الرواية وظهرت قوته في حياده في وصف أحوال الكوريتين.فلا نعرف أي الشقين يفضل وبالمثل لبطله لي.أنت كقارئ لك الحكم والإختيار.
رواية مميزة حيث تنقل المشهد ما بعد الحرب والصراع النفسي والإيديولوجي الذي كان يعيشه الكوريون في الكوريتين.
كان المشهد الأخير للرواية صادما و رائعا في نفس الوقت♥️
رواية تستحق القراءة وشكرا لمن قام بترجمتها.
رواية رائعة أحببتها جدا وإستمتعت بقراءتها رغم الأوجاع والآلام التي تحملها.رواية نفسية وجودية كتبت بشاعرية مبهرة. أعتبر أن الترجمة كانت ممتازة لأنها حملت كل تلك التفاصيل الدقيقة من وصف وأحاسيس وجدانية ونفسية معقدة .الأسلوب والسرد مميزين ويبلغان القارئ بطريقة جميلة جدا، شاعرية وساحرة.
تبدأ الرواية على متن سفينة طاغور الهندية والتي كانت تعبربحر الصين الشرقي.كانت تحمل على متنها أسرى الح.رب الكورية المطلق سراحهم من مخيم الأسرى بجزيرة غوجيه.
كان لي ميونج جونغ الشخصية الرئيسية للرواية أحد هؤلاء الأسرى.
تتراوح الرواية بين الحاضر والماضي وبين كوريا الشمالية وكوريا الجنوبية والأحداث التي تقع على متن السفينة والتي تسببت في إسترجاع لي لذكرياته
نتعرف عن ماضيه من خلال ذكريات يسترجعها وهو بعرض البحر،ذكريات إمتدت ما بعد إنتهاء الحرب مع اليابان سنة 1945 إلى ما قبل إنطلاق الحرب ببن الكوريتين سنة 1950.
كان طالبا بقسم الفلسفة،يعيش في غرفة منفردة تقع في منزل صديق والده البورجوازي بكوريا الجنوبية.كان والده قد غادر إلى كوريا الشمالية وتركه وحيدا وأمه.
كان بحث لي مثبتا على إكتشاف معنى الحياة وتوقه لشيء يدفعه ويشغله ويعطيه معنى لها ليحس بوجوده.كان إنسانا ذو تساؤلات فلسفية،وجودية،وجدانية عديدة.كانت له تأملات مميزة تتسم بإهتمامه الشديد بالتفاصيل الطبيعية وكان يحب الشعر و يكتبه .
يبدو لي ذو مزاج متقلب ونفسية متعبة ومرهقة،كان يجهل مشاعره تجاه الجنس الآخر ويجهل التعامل معه.كان يشغله الجسد كثيرا وبحس بكبت جنسي وعاطفي كبيرين.يشعرك من خلال أفكاره أنه ميزوجيني إلى أقصى الحدود.
إنسان وحيد،تائه،ضائع،متألم ومتعب،يجهل ما يبحث عنه،له ذلك الغضب والسخط على كل الأوضاع المحيطة به وبما يحيطه.يتميز بإنطوائه،بعدم حبه للإختلاط،بحبه للعزلة والإنفراد.شخص يؤمن بالمبادئ المثلى،بالمدينة الفاضلة،بالقيم النبيلة والنقية.
في يوم من الأيام،يتم القبض عليه وإستجوابه من قبل الشرطة ويكون عرضة للعنف والإهانة وذلك لإعتقادهم بأنه من الشيوعيبن الثوريين وأنه"شيوعي أحمر"كوالده.إثر ذلك وبطريقة فجئية يقرر الرحيل والإتجاه إلى كوريا الشمالية عله يجد معنى للحياة وهدفا معينا.
في كوريا الجنوبية الرأسمالية وبالتحديد في سيول لم يكن يشعر بمعنى الحياة،يحس بالفراغ وكان ساخطا على الوضع،حيث الكل يسعى وراء المال والقوة والسلطة والمناصب.بلد تشغله حياة الترف والرفاهية واللهو والجنس،بدون أخلاقيات حسب رأيه.
بينما كوريا الشمالية الشيوعية التي تتبع الإيديولوجيا الماركسية وأفكار لينين وستالين فكان أفرادها كادحين،يعملون ليلا نهار،لا حياة فيها، فكانت السياسة مرهقة لشعبها الذي بدى يعاني الخضوع والطاعة العمياء ولا دراية له بذلك.
كانت مشاعره ممزقة بين الكوريتين،كوريتين متناقضتين،كان يحس بعدم الإنتماء لكلتيهما.
حينها أحس لي بأنه لم يجد تلك المدينة الفاضلة التي يبحث عنها وخاب أمله أيضا مرة أخرى،مما جعله في الحاضر وبعد إطلاق أسره،لا يود العودة لأي منهما بل الهجرة والإبتعاد والذهاب إلى كالكوتاطالبا الأمان ،الحياة،الحرية،العيش بكرامة وخاصة العدالة الإنسانية.بلد محايد ووطن مثالي.
لم يكن الوحيد بل كل الأسرى الذين كانوا معه على متن السفينة،كانوا يرغبون في بلد محايد.
رحلة بحث طويلة ودائمة لإخماد ما كان يحس به لي.
فهل سيكون هذا الإختيار الصائب ؟هل ستكون كالكوتا هي ذلك البلد المحايد الذي يحمل كل أحلامه؟هل ستكون هذه الوجهة الصحيحة والأخيرة أم ستكون له وجهة أخرى.
كان الهروب هو من الساحة.الساحة هذا المصطلح الرمزي الذي تكرر عدة مرات.
فالرواية تميزت بتكرار كلمتين إثنتين وهما الغرفة المغلقة والساحة.تعبيرين مجازيين نجدهما في كامل الرواية.
كانت الغرفة المغلقة،العالم المغلق للي،ذلك المكان الذي يلتجأ إليه،مساحته الخاصة،لاوعيه.مكان يبحث فيه عن نفسه،ليواجه نفسه،ليلتجأ إليها.كانت الغرفة مكانه الخاص حيث تأملاته،أفكاره،خوالجه،مشاعره وكل ما يمثله.كانت الغرفة ترمز للفرد،ترمز لكل ما هو شخصي.
بينما الساحة ،كانت ذلك المكان المخصص للأفراد مجتمعة،مكان يجمعهم،حيث الكل يتشارك في كل شيء.فكانت الساحة ترمز للمجموعة وبالتالي لكل ماهو موضوعي.
ربما الساحة ترمز أيضا لكوريا الجنوبية ببنما الغرفة إلى الشمالية،إذ أن التشبيه أو المجاز يعبر على ساحة لمجتمع حيث الحياة تكون في الساحة العامة،أمام الجميع دون أي خصوصية وحيث تنعدم الغرف المغلقة للفرد والمساحة الخاصة به.
يبدو من خلال الرواية أن الغرفة كما هو الحال للساحة مكانين يبيئان بالفشل ولا جدوى منهما.
الرواية تعالج ذلك التشتت والضياع والإغتراب الإنساني الأليم الذي كان نتيجة لمآسي الحرب في شبه الجزيرة الكورية.أيضا مخلفات هذه الحرب التي خلفت كوريتين متضادتان في صراع دائم راح ضحيته الشعب.
أسرى الحرب وغضبهم وخنقهم،معاناتهم في أوطانهم وهروبهم منها.
الإظطربات النفسية والإيديولوجية للكوريين وخاصة الشباب منهم في تلك الفترة الإنتقالية.
البحث عن الهوية وعن الإنتماء،البحث عن المثل وعن مقومات العيش الكريم.
نقد السياسة الكورية أو بالأحرى السياستين الرأسمالية بفسادها وجشعها وسرقتها ونهبها وجبروتها وإحتيالها والشيوعية بتسلطها وفرضها الخضوع وجعل شعبها بائسا،فقيرا،بدون حياة مما يتناقض مع مبادئها الأساسية.
عالج أيضا قضايا تتعلق بالجسد،بالرغبة،بالجنس،بالكبت،بالحب،بالصراع الوجودي.
صحيح أن الساحة رمزت إلى التجمع ومكان المجموعة،لكن الساحة كانت أيضا في الرواية ساحة السياسة،ساحة الشعب،ساحة الحياة،ساحة الموت،ساحة الصراع،ساحة المعركة،ساحة الح_رب،ساحة النفس،ساحة الحب.العديد من الساحات وتبقى ساحة واحدة في الأخير هي ساحة الإنسان.
أريد أن أضيف أن السرد والأسلوب كانا في غاية الجمال وحقيقة الترجمة نجحت في إبلاغ تلك الأوصاف والتشابيه والتعابير المجازية بطريقة رائعة.
هناك شاعرية كبيرة في الكتابة و وصف مكثف للطبيعة التي كانت ترمز لنفسية البطل من ضياع وحزن وتيه.
المطر والضباب والسحب والنورس والبحر والتلال والضباب والنجوم كلها كانت تفاصيل دقيقة جدا وجذابة.
كتب اشيوي إين هون هذه الرواية في سن الرابعة والعشرين وقد صدرت سنة1960،في وقت مازال حساسا في المنطقة.كبطله الرئيسي شهد الكاتب التحولات العديدة للكوريتين ،فقد فر مع عائلته من كوريا الشمالية إلى الجنوبية سنة 1950 وبذلك فهو يمثل ذلك الكوري المشتت بين شقين إثنين،بلد ولد فيه وبلد نشأ و درس فيه مما سيؤثر حتما على أولى كتاباته وقد ذكر الروائي في مقدمة الرواية أنه يفتخر بنيل شرف كتابتها لأنه كاتب كتب له العيش في الجمهورية الجديدة وبفضل الثورة الطلابية لأفريل 1960.
كانت أولى الكتابات للروائي وأيضا أولى الكتابات بعد الفترة الإنتقالية للمنطقة وتعتبر من أهمها في الأدب الكوري المعاصر والكتابة والتعبير بحرية.
أبدع إشيوي إين هون في هذه الرواية وظهرت قوته في حياده في وصف أحوال الكوريتين.فلا نعرف أي الشقين يفضل وبالمثل لبطله لي.أنت كقارئ لك الحكم والإختيار.
رواية مميزة حيث تنقل المشهد ما بعد الحرب والصراع النفسي والإيديولوجي الذي كان يعيشه الكوريون في الكوريتين.
كان المشهد الأخير للرواية صادما و رائعا في نفس الوقت♥️
رواية تستحق القراءة وشكرا لمن قام بترجمتها.
December 16, 2019
Apparently this is considered a classic in Korean literature, and I am sure I don't appreciate it fully for the time and place in which it was written (I know that it was written shortly after books like it were even allowed to be printed). There is probably also quite a bit of symbolism that is over my head.
It covers a man moving from South Korea to North Korea and back South (and then to a "Neutral country"), starting before the war and ending after it, although there is pretty much nothing about the war itself.
The juxtaposition between the two countries was probably one of the first that was ever made in literature.
I did, however, find the protagonist pretty annoying at times. I guess it was due to principle, but he seemed rather spoiled, naive and too idealistic at times. I'm not sure if this was on purpose or not.
The ending was really beautiful in its own way.
It covers a man moving from South Korea to North Korea and back South (and then to a "Neutral country"), starting before the war and ending after it, although there is pretty much nothing about the war itself.
The juxtaposition between the two countries was probably one of the first that was ever made in literature.
I did, however, find the protagonist pretty annoying at times. I guess it was due to principle, but he seemed rather spoiled, naive and too idealistic at times. I'm not sure if this was on purpose or not.
The ending was really beautiful in its own way.
June 15, 2014
As far as I'm concerned, given that I live in a country that couldn't be more distant from North and South Korea, North Korea might as well be media created simulacrum of communist menace that serves to scare the people away from questioning the workings of capitalism. With that said, this novel was just mildly interesting as far as literature goes, but rather topical when it comes to the dilemma about the future of (global) society. Neither communism nor capitalistic democracy is good enough at the end (and rightly so), so the lead character chooses the "third path" of "neutral country" (which reminded me of Barth's College de France lectures on neutral). In his case that possibly means death, but I wonder if such a radical move is necessary. Can't we have something else instead?
July 17, 2019
"Mankind cannot live in a closed room. Mankind belongs in the Square."
This is a story about a man, Myong-jun, who was released Korean prisoner of Korean war and was seeking his ideal of 'the Square'. Myong-jun's philosophical questions and struggles to find an absolute truth was very interesting. He was looking for a way to get out of his comfortable closed room(South Korea) to go to the Square(North Korea). Then from the Square to another closed room(Eun-hye). He represent a human being who is seeking for a new place to be a new person, even though he/she would eventually discover there is no perfect place.
His final decision was committed himself to an everlasting closed room.
This is a story about a man, Myong-jun, who was released Korean prisoner of Korean war and was seeking his ideal of 'the Square'. Myong-jun's philosophical questions and struggles to find an absolute truth was very interesting. He was looking for a way to get out of his comfortable closed room(South Korea) to go to the Square(North Korea). Then from the Square to another closed room(Eun-hye). He represent a human being who is seeking for a new place to be a new person, even though he/she would eventually discover there is no perfect place.
His final decision was committed himself to an everlasting closed room.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 8, 2015
Korea is fastly complex is its philosophy, politics, and history and this was an interesting look at a man who was satisfied with neither the north nor the south. Wasn't particularly pleased by his views on women/their treatment but otherwise an introspective look at politics and philosophy.
March 26, 2017
Parts of this novel are marvelous as the protagonist struggles to find his place in the world, first in capitalist South Korea, then in communist North Korea. But the author spends a lot of time inside his character's head, and those parts can feel tedious.
June 11, 2017
"... with a feeble heart withered like a picked cabbage in a wrinkled raincoat...".
This was a hard slog to finish. The frequent flashbacks and flashforwards, unusual imagery and farcical characters made this an awkward reading experience. A disappointing first dip into Korean literature.
This was a hard slog to finish. The frequent flashbacks and flashforwards, unusual imagery and farcical characters made this an awkward reading experience. A disappointing first dip into Korean literature.
June 11, 2017
"... with a feeble heart withered like a pickled cabbage in a wrinkled raincoat...".
This was a hard slog to finish. The frequent flashbacks and flashforwards, unusual imagery and farcical characters made this an awkward reading experience. A disappointing first dip into Korean literature.
This was a hard slog to finish. The frequent flashbacks and flashforwards, unusual imagery and farcical characters made this an awkward reading experience. A disappointing first dip into Korean literature.
November 27, 2024
Listen to my review on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZE13y...
And check out some extra comments also on YouTube here -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FE2G6...
And check out some extra comments also on YouTube here -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FE2G6...
March 15, 2016
I was quite interested in this book's story and protagonist, but its writing is just too disjointed to follow smoothly. I couldn't sustain interest in it, sadly.
September 25, 2016
This book should be taught in every uni-level sociology and philosophy course as well as Asian and world lit courses.
March 30, 2020
“- Las gaviotas siguen acompañándonos, ¿verdad?
- La gente de mar dice que son las almas de los marinos muertos o de las mujeres que no han podido olvidarles.”
- La gente de mar dice que son las almas de los marinos muertos o de las mujeres que no han podido olvidarles.”
August 31, 2020
Full of preachy, boyish ennui. A Catcher in the Rye for the Korean War.
Read
September 25, 2022Op veel manieren een typische modernistische roman, met een jonge filosofische betweter, de hopeloze zoektocht naar betekenis, de desillusie in politiek, de storende misogynie. Was de hoofdpersoon Myong-Jun meer intentioneel irritant geweest (à la Holden Caulfield), dan was het een stuk beter geweest.
Maar de innerlijke beschrijvingen waren vaak mooi, de sociale context was verhelderend en leerzaam, en het concept van "The Square" werkte wel! Dus hee, ik mag niet te veel klagen.
Maar de innerlijke beschrijvingen waren vaak mooi, de sociale context was verhelderend en leerzaam, en het concept van "The Square" werkte wel! Dus hee, ik mag niet te veel klagen.
October 16, 2022
Je ne recommande pas ce livre. Les évènements sont racontés dans le désordre sans indications claires de la temporalité, de même je ne savais jamais si il se trouvait à ce moment-là en Corée du Nord ou en Corée du Sud. Et puis le mec a un petit côté incel/toxic. Je ne pense pas avoir appris quoi que ce soit puisque les raisons de la séparation des Corées ne sont pas expliquées. Peut-être que c'est un bon livre pour les coréens. Livre oubliable.
October 15, 2021
Provides interesting perspective on Korean war and the ideological struggle of a young adult man growing up in this traumatic period-- starting in South Korea, going to North Korea, and then choosing to move to a neutral territory. There can also definitely be more to say and analyze from a gender lense.
August 26, 2023
Me leí este libro porque en una reseña decía que entendería mejor a la sociedad coreana. No me pareció que fuera así.
En un barco de presos que son llevados a un territorio neutral, un personaje nos cuenta su experiencia en lo que hoy son las dos Coreas, en cómo intentó sacar provecho de las distintas situaciones en cada una y en cómo se iba corrompiendo.
El uso de “la plaza” como recurso metafórico me cansó, es repetitivo.
En un barco de presos que son llevados a un territorio neutral, un personaje nos cuenta su experiencia en lo que hoy son las dos Coreas, en cómo intentó sacar provecho de las distintas situaciones en cada una y en cómo se iba corrompiendo.
El uso de “la plaza” como recurso metafórico me cansó, es repetitivo.
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