세상에서 가장 가벼운 오토바이

by 이원

1992년 계간 「세계의문학」가을호에 <시간과 비닐봉지> 외 3편을 발표하며 등단한 이원 시집. 몸과 몸 밖이라는 크게 이분화된 삶의 실존적 조건에 대해 독특한 표현 형식으로 치밀한 묘사와 사유의 세계를 펼쳐온 시인의 세 번째 시집이다.

이번 시집에서는 사물의 내면, 언어의 내부를 집요하게 파고드는 시선의 깊이가 돋보인다. 둥글고 부드러운 몸, 몸의 내부, 사물의 그림자, 그림자가 품고 있는 깊이 등에 주목하며, 사물의 이미지는 스스로 운동하면서 평면성과 수동성 대신 입체성과 능동성의 옷으로 갈아입는다. 여기에 질주하는 오토바이와 그 뒤를 따르는 도로와 공기의 팽창이 정지된 공간의 역설적인 운동성뿐 아니라 역동적인 생명력까지 느끼게 한다.

또한, 시인의 시는 삭막하고 메마른 공간, 현대인들이 뿌리 내리고 살아가는 전자사막 속의 사람 냄새와 근원을 향해 치닫는 사물들의 질주, 그리고 그것이 지나가면서 길게 드리우는 삶의 그림자를 온몸으로 느낄 수 있게 해준다. 지상의 텅 빈 공간에서 존재의 의미를 물으면서 시작했던 시인의 시는 달리고 질주하며 허공까지 닿았다가 다시 지상으로 되돌아오고 있다.

Genres: Poetry

138 pages, Paperback

First published June 22, 2007

About the author

이원(1968년 ~ )은 대한민국의 시인이다. 1968년 경기도 화성에서 태어나 서울예술대학 문예창작과를 졸업했고 동국대학교 문예창작학과에서 석사학위를 받았다. 1992년 계간 『세계의 문학』 가을호에 「시간과 비닐봉지」 외 3편을 발표하면서 시단에 데뷔했다. 전자문물이 발단한 시대의 인물상을 그리는 시인으로 유명해졌으나, 근래에는 인간의 근원적인 고독에 관련된 작품을 많이 쓰고 있다.

6권의 시집과 3권의 산문집을 출간했다. 시집으로 『그들이 지구를 지배했을 때』(1996), 『야후!의 강물에 천 개의 달이 뜬다』(2001), 『세상에서 가장 가벼운 오토바이』(2007), 『불가능한 종이의 역사』(2012), 『사랑은 탄생하라』(2017), 『나는 나의 다정한 얼룩말』(2018)이 있다. 산문집으로 『산책 안에 담은 것들』(2016), 『최소의 발견』(2017), 『시를 위한 사전』(2020) 이 있다. 현대시학 작품상(2002), 현대시 작품상(2005), 시작 작품상(2014), 시로 여는 세상 작품상(2014), 형평 문학상(2018), 시인동네 문학상(2018)을 수상했다. 현재 서울예술대학교 문예창작과 교수로 재직 중이다.

Reviews

[SgJuliaKristeva · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think it was pretty interesting to read Yi Won's work and see how she compared such tender human experiences to objects of modernity and the hypertechnological developments of the late 20th century.

Academic me would want to revist this text and unpack it with a marxist/consumerist lens, and maybe even see how this comparison of human nature to plain objects can tie into post humanist theories of decentering humankind as a completely separate entity from the world, thereby offering new ways of looking at our connection with the things around us.

Reader me, however, found the imagery too abstract at times to enjoy it on a personal level. I think Yi Won's imagery sometimes deconstructs these human experiences into something too unfamiliar for me to resonate with on a more personal scale, but might perk some interest for a more academic and theoretical reading.

[Peter]

I do not enjoy surrealism. I love the project currently happening of Korean women writers being published in translation. The cross section between the two is problematic for me, given that so much of this type of writing is either lost in the translation, or just too surreal to convey certain kinds of meaning that appeal to me as an American. For that reason, I’m not giving this a star rating because I want to keep reading more stuff like this.

Surrealists rely on a vocabulary of images to convey dreamlike, heavily imagistic work. For Yi Won, this could be plastic bags, a motorcycle, an address book, a digital clock. What I love about this kind of writing is that nobody in the states could ever write with these images in this way. Her language reads like setting a stage for a crime scene, carefully planting evidence in a room she has plotted out. One American equivalent to my mind is Renee Gladman.

But I don’t really derive much meaning from this. Yes, it’s there, but it doesn’t scratch the itch I’m looking for. Still, I’m happy to have it in my hands, and I do not regret reading it. It likely has more to do with my own sensibilities. Even when the poem introduces an “I”, I don’t get the sense of a person narrating, but a series of guiding principles. Surely there’s something unbearably western about my own reading of that? Longing for an “I” with an appetite that it claims as it’s own?

The afterward cites her love of Edward Hopper, and I completely understand.

[Hollis · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really appreciate Yi Won's handling of prose poems as well as more delineated poetry. She negotiates perceptions of embodiment as they clash with the surrounds of commodity fetishism, turning body parts into partitionable halves violently culled from a unifying existence that feels always out of reach. I felt this most clearly with the series of "Mirror" poems collected at the end of the volume. Overall, her poems are surreal, nightmarish yet matter-of-fact, submerged in a deluged breakdown of meaning, something akin to an everyday aporia of the market economy. Though, for all the potent emotional connections and thoughtful concepts, the text's 'voice' did read as too uniform across the volume, its stylistic acrobatics and vibrant visual touchstones lacking the range to be sustained for a full reading. Unfortunately, I cannot speak much to the quality of translation but still appreciated, aided by the translators' efforts, having a peak at this writer's special mode of expression.

[Natalia-Daiana · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars.

"Debt

Debt grows. Guilt grows in the east. The sun rises from guilt. My hands grow cold. An empty envelope flutters, undiscarded, alone on the desk. Because there's a leak, the rain stains the wall. On a day like this, I order a noodle dish with black bean sauce. The phone rings like noodles drenched in black bean sauce. I don't answer. The ringing piles up. When I walked behind my father's casket, the sound of the wooden bell beat against me. A round vein is as sharp as a knife. Does blood forgive debt? I am moved by the smell of blood."

[Beck Sanchez · Rating 3 out of 5]

hoping it's better in its original korean form but tbh if it is that's worse because they butchered it. sometimes I can't tell if I don't like certain poetry because I'm not cultured enough to comprehend it

[Rachel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Personally I’m not really a fan of prose poems, which make up about 50% or so of the poems in here. Although this collection would be really interesting to study through a translation and deconstruction lens I just continued feeling that I was missing something, the poems couldn’t quite connect

[Kassy Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoyed reading this metaphysical and modern collection. Its abstract style helped me feel the emotional fields of living in end-stage capitalism. I enjoyed how different it was from contemporary American poetry, so it helped extend my understanding of what poetry can be and do.

[Sophie · Rating 2 out of 5]

While I respect the surrealist exploration of Korean identity and femininity, I found it hard to connect with the delineated prose.

I’m unsure if some of the intention or subtlety is lost within the translation or if the issue lies entirely with me as a native English speaker. I found little meaning in the prose. For me, it was too surreal and fragmented to comprehend fully.

This is no reflection on the art, and talent within this book, just my enjoyment of reading it. The issue lies entirely with my sensibilities as a reader longing for, I suppose, an unbearably obvious message to consume.