“For #KoreaBookClub this week, @barrypwelsh introduces a short story called 'Human Decency' by Gong Ji-young, a renowned writer of the so-called '386 Generation', that asks questions about what remains after Korea’s turbulent modern history. #공지영 #단편소설 #인간에대한예의”
A visit to South Korea got me to read something by korean writers, and I started with this one. Female author in a somewhat macho society, but I guess it is a story describing current life in Seoul struggling with career, friends and family. Interesting and a book to learn something from
Enjoyable first story, about a reporter reflecting on two interviews she conducted, one with a serene artist just back from a meditation retreat in India, the other with a political activist just released after 20 years in prison. I found the writing quite soothing and it flowed very well from subject to subject, including reflection on her younger days as a student, her activists friends and their exploits.
The second one was also enjoyable but not as engaging? About an author and a couple of her male friends, drinking, reflecting, and, eventually, fishing.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Quick, elegant, and packed with heavy material, this book is a treat. It the story of a magazine writer who must choose between writing a feature about a Buddhist-yogi-enlightened-zen-artist, or a former labour activist recently released from a long prison sentence. For me, the story seemed to be asking: today, how does one become free. To quote the main character: “I was brought to an abrupt stop by the realization that there was nothing but darkness down every street, when I wondered what the hell kind of life I was living, I felt a yearning to be free and fearless;” p19
In choosing which story to tell, the writer considers: whose story is more important? What do people today want to read? What story/ method of questing for freedom is still relevant today? Throughout the book writer remembers their own participation in student protests, friends who died, the violence and injustice against which the activist fought. The writer also recognizes that the world has moved on, and forgotten about their suffering.
It is extremely short, and the author and translators did an impressive job of telling and showing so much, so many emotions, problems and people, in such a tiny space.
This was my first outing into Korean literature, which I did in English since I do not speak Korean. The style is quite different from the novels I am accustomed to read, and there are passages where I wanted the narrator to stop thinking and show some action. However, the author also uses metaphor based on strong, poetic images from nature to help tell the story. For example, here is the reader's first glimpse of a middle-aged woman who is a well-known painter and writer: "I found her in her yard, among wildflowers coming into bloom...she wore unstarched off-white cotton pants and a loose-fitting wool sweater the color of eggplants." The artist is later described as looking "willfully, refreshingly pure, like a lone wildflower blooming in the wind." Chances are that anyone reading these descriptions will not be surprised to learn that the character in question has spent time studying meditation in India and wandering the desert in Africa.
My main goal in reading this story was to start trying to understand the past experiences and current mindset of South Koreans who are now middle-aged. It was a good start.
Can I give 3 1/2 stars? This is not my usual genre - which probably explains why I was a bit lackluster about this book. The imagery was very good, very poetic. Both stories are very similar to each other and they present a very interesting look at how people deal with living after political upheaval and violence. It's a little hard for me to wrap my head around what something like that would be like. In that regard, I think this book did a great job of trying to show what that would feel like, or at least get you to really think about it. My main issue was that it all sort of felt incomplete to me. I felt like the author stopped just shy of really driving home a point of some kind. I know some authors intentionally do that, and this is probably a good example of it, but it's just not something I tend to like. Maybe it's because reading for me is a solitary thing and I think this is the kind of book that you'd have to talk with other people about in order to get the most out of it.
After a catastrophical Korean novel I still regret having read, that story book was just fine. I enjoy the author's political implications about the contemporary Korean life and politics. I will try reading more of her works.
This story was excellent. It was such a thoughtful piece on humans and Korean society in the post-democratization era. The narrator (a man? A woman?) contemplates freedom, both of body and mind, upon meeting and interviewing a pop culture icon/artist who found serenity and a former political prisoner. I think the Korean title, meaning "Rules for Humans" is quite interesting in its own right, and adds a lot to the story. Highly recommended.