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Znajomy świat
Gdy ojciec czternastoletniego Wytrzeszcza zostaje wywieziony do "obozu reedukacji", chłopak wraz z matką dołączają do tysięcy miejskich wyrzutków żyjących na Wyspie Kwiatów ogromnym wysypisku śmieci na obrzeżach Seulu. "Społeczne odpady", jak nazywa się mieszkańców tego miejsca, utrzymują się z tego, co uda im się znaleźć wśród resztek produkowanych przez konsumpcyjne społeczeństwo wielkiego miasta. Kiedy pewnej nocy między górami śmieci Wytrzeszcz zauważa tajemnicze światełka, wszystko wskazuje na to, że jego los się odmieni, ale czy na zawsze?
Ta tętniąca życiem, urzekająca opowieść to nie tylko obraz społeczeństwa u progu zawrotnych zmian ekonomicznych i społecznych, lecz także niezwykle aktualne przypomnienie, że powinniśmy zastanowić się dwa razy, zanim coś wyrzucimy.
Ta tętniąca życiem, urzekająca opowieść to nie tylko obraz społeczeństwa u progu zawrotnych zmian ekonomicznych i społecznych, lecz także niezwykle aktualne przypomnienie, że powinniśmy zastanowić się dwa razy, zanim coś wyrzucimy.
208 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2011
72 people are currently reading
4228 people want to read
About the author
Hwang Sok-yong
71 books334 followersHwang Sok-yong (황석영) was born in Hsinking (today Changchun), Manchukuo, during the period of Japanese rule. His family returned to Korea after liberation in 1945. He later obtained a bachelor's degree in philosophy from Dongguk University (동국대학교).
In 1964 he was jailed for political reasons and met labor activists. Upon his release he worked at a cigarette factory and at several construction sites around the country.
In 1966–1969 he was part of Korea's military corps during the Vietnam War, reluctantly fighting for the American cause that he saw as an attack on a liberation struggle.
In 1964 he was jailed for political reasons and met labor activists. Upon his release he worked at a cigarette factory and at several construction sites around the country.
In 1966–1969 he was part of Korea's military corps during the Vietnam War, reluctantly fighting for the American cause that he saw as an attack on a liberation struggle.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 220 reviews
March 28, 2020
As I get older I feel as though the world is beginning to reach a breaking point. I feel the accumulated injustices of the world teetering precariously at an edge. It’s only a matter of time before the flawed, inhumane systems of capitalism and consumerism burn everything to the ground.
This book takes all my inexplicable anxieties and translates them into thoughts and words in the clearest way possible.
I am so angry. So angry at the world, the unbreakable cycles of disenfranchisement we place the most vulnerable in. It’s impossible to literally and metaphorically breathe when you are just trying to survive. To be able to breathe is a privilege.
But this book is also a message of hope I think- that artists and writers can illuminate and uplift.
And also that spring, hope and renewal is coming.
June 16, 2019
One of those where 3 feels harsh and 4 too high...
December 13, 2020
3,5. Jeongho, que atiende al mote de Ojos saltones, y su madre llegan a "La isla de la Flores" buscando un nuevo porvenir, ya que al desaparecer el padre se han visto sin recursos. Detrás del bonito nombre de "La isla de las Flores" se esconde un enorme vertedero. Aquí miles de familias se dedican a separar de la basura de toda la ciudad, lo que aún es servible y se puede reutilizar o vender. Estas familias conviven con los desperdicios de la ciudad y los insectos que son atraidos por la basura. Allí conocerán a Trasquilón, el hijo del hombre que les consiguió el trabajo.
Lo primero que destaca es la dulce y tierna relación que desarrolan Trasquilón y Ojos Saltones. Realmente parecen hermanos como si hubieran nacido como tales. Y es una de mis cosas favoritas de la novela. En una parte de la historia, ambos niños van a la ciudad y Trasquilón se sorprende ante todo lo que no conocía. Y es que su única realidad es el gran vertedero donde vive desde los tres años. Es un capítulo especialmente emocionante. Me hubiera gustado ver más de esa relación.
Lo más interesante de la novela, sin lugar a dudas, es esa crítica social a la diferencia de clases. ¿Cómo puede un país desarrollado como Corea del Sur, albergar una parte de la población que se muere de hambre y tiene que recurrir a vivir en vertederos? Mientras que la opulencia les lleva a unos a tirar a la basura cualquier cosa, incluso comida en buen estado, la falta de otros les obliga incluso a comer la comida en mal estado que recogen. Y es que no solo venden lo que pueden, si no que se alimentan en gran parte de las cosas que se han tirado como desechos. La crítica es super interesante y al parecer es una seña de la obra de Hwang Sok-Yong, del que por ahora solo había leído "Shim Chong, la niña vendida", que me encantó.
También lo rebuja todo con una especie de fantasía y mundo espiritual, como si la propia naturaleza se manifestara a través de personas que vivieron allí antes de que "La Isla de las Flores" fuera el vertedero que es. Quizás esta parte se me ha quedado algo más floja y menos completa. Pero era interesante ver la mezcla, desde luego.
Quizás el libro pese a tener una crítica super interesante, muy bien construida y dos personajes muy tiernos, se me ha quedado algo justo. Es un buen libro, que se lee del tirón y se disfruta, pero no me ha parecido todo lo redondo que parecía por su premisa. Además, el final no me ha gustado nada, y no tanto por lo que pasa en sí, si no por la frialdad con la que se trata el suceso, algo que choca con la gran sensibilidad que el autor dota a otras escenas. Aunque también puede ser mi percepción, ya que esperaba algo más sentido. Por lo demás, es una lectura interesante, que denuncia algo importante. Yo no conocía la situación de estas personas que se ven obligadas a vivir así y me ha impactado mucho.
Lo primero que destaca es la dulce y tierna relación que desarrolan Trasquilón y Ojos Saltones. Realmente parecen hermanos como si hubieran nacido como tales. Y es una de mis cosas favoritas de la novela. En una parte de la historia, ambos niños van a la ciudad y Trasquilón se sorprende ante todo lo que no conocía. Y es que su única realidad es el gran vertedero donde vive desde los tres años. Es un capítulo especialmente emocionante. Me hubiera gustado ver más de esa relación.
Lo más interesante de la novela, sin lugar a dudas, es esa crítica social a la diferencia de clases. ¿Cómo puede un país desarrollado como Corea del Sur, albergar una parte de la población que se muere de hambre y tiene que recurrir a vivir en vertederos? Mientras que la opulencia les lleva a unos a tirar a la basura cualquier cosa, incluso comida en buen estado, la falta de otros les obliga incluso a comer la comida en mal estado que recogen. Y es que no solo venden lo que pueden, si no que se alimentan en gran parte de las cosas que se han tirado como desechos. La crítica es super interesante y al parecer es una seña de la obra de Hwang Sok-Yong, del que por ahora solo había leído "Shim Chong, la niña vendida", que me encantó.
También lo rebuja todo con una especie de fantasía y mundo espiritual, como si la propia naturaleza se manifestara a través de personas que vivieron allí antes de que "La Isla de las Flores" fuera el vertedero que es. Quizás esta parte se me ha quedado algo más floja y menos completa. Pero era interesante ver la mezcla, desde luego.
Quizás el libro pese a tener una crítica super interesante, muy bien construida y dos personajes muy tiernos, se me ha quedado algo justo. Es un buen libro, que se lee del tirón y se disfruta, pero no me ha parecido todo lo redondo que parecía por su premisa. Además, el final no me ha gustado nada, y no tanto por lo que pasa en sí, si no por la frialdad con la que se trata el suceso, algo que choca con la gran sensibilidad que el autor dota a otras escenas. Aunque también puede ser mi percepción, ya que esperaba algo más sentido. Por lo demás, es una lectura interesante, que denuncia algo importante. Yo no conocía la situación de estas personas que se ven obligadas a vivir así y me ha impactado mucho.
February 22, 2019
I really enjoyed this on several levels. ‘Familiar Things’ follows the lives of 14-years-old Bugeye , his mother, and others that live and survive on a vast landfill site on the outskirts of Seoul. I liked the way it comments on modern consumer society. The community is
“filled with things used up and tossed aside, things people had grown tired of using, and things that were no longer of any use to anyone at all ... The people who lived there were likewise discards and outcasts driven from the city.”
I also like how it juxtaposes a mysterious traditional farming community that exists in the same space, and that Bugeye and his friend, Baldspot, visit from time to time. It comments on the traditional versus the modern highlighting that something has been lost in the transition from ancient to modern, and yet, it does so while not totally glorifying the traditional.
Most of all, I like the way the author looks at the lives of these poor people without making the common mistake of believing that poor people are totally governed by the single thought of rising out of poverty and becoming rich. I was most taken by how Hwang Sok-yong explored their lives and seemed to understand things like the feeling of shame that Bugeye felt when he found himself outside of his ‘world’.
I liked it a lot.
“filled with things used up and tossed aside, things people had grown tired of using, and things that were no longer of any use to anyone at all ... The people who lived there were likewise discards and outcasts driven from the city.”
I also like how it juxtaposes a mysterious traditional farming community that exists in the same space, and that Bugeye and his friend, Baldspot, visit from time to time. It comments on the traditional versus the modern highlighting that something has been lost in the transition from ancient to modern, and yet, it does so while not totally glorifying the traditional.
Most of all, I like the way the author looks at the lives of these poor people without making the common mistake of believing that poor people are totally governed by the single thought of rising out of poverty and becoming rich. I was most taken by how Hwang Sok-yong explored their lives and seemed to understand things like the feeling of shame that Bugeye felt when he found himself outside of his ‘world’.
I liked it a lot.
September 11, 2017
When recently asked to describe Familiar Things in a nutshell, two things came to mind: first, that it is an endearing book and second, that it is an excellent comment on modern day society.
Full review at http://www.sfintranslation.com/?p=2751
Full review at http://www.sfintranslation.com/?p=2751
April 13, 2024
…scarti della società..
Romanzo coreano di formazione.
Il quattordicenne Occhiapalla vive una vita serena nel quartiere di Seul dove la madre commercia piccoli oggetti in un’improvvisata bancarella.
Diventa sempre più difficile, però, sbarcare il lunario e i due si trasferiscono alla discarica dove sono stati assoldati come “operatori” addetti alla raccolta e cernita dei rifiuti.
Il romanzo s’incentra principalmente su questo luogo dove umani ed oggetti hanno in comune il fatto di essere scarti della società.
Dalla spazzatura si recupera materiale per costruire una baracca che sarà chiamata casa ma anche il cibo stesso che con una veloce ripulita e con la forza di una pancia vuota è il più buono del mondo.
Occhiapalla stringe amicizia con Pelatino e con Talpa.
Bambini che diventano uomini per necessità ma che conservano soprannomi che, in modo divertente, sottolineano le loro imperfezioni e che conservano un ultimo stralcio dell’infanzia perduta.
Il luogo dove lavorano e vivono ha un nome legato ad un passato ormai sotterrato su montagne d’immondizia: Isola fiorita.
Un tempo semplici famiglie di contadini lavoravano la terra condividendone i frutti e preservando l’ambiente fino al giorno in cui il governo con un esproprio fece piazza pulita.
Qualcosa però è rimasto: delle luci blu, presenze non visibili a tutti..
Una riflessione sul consumismo che ormai ci domina ed uno sguardo sulla società coreana e ai costi del grande sviluppo economico.
”Quella miriade di case, di edifici e di macchine, i sobborghi, i centri delle tante città, i lungofiumi, i ponti in ferro, le luci elettriche, i rumori assordanti, il vomito degli ubriachi, le discariche, gli oggetti buttati via, la polvere, il fumo, l’odore di marcio e tutte le sostanze tossiche. Tutte queste cose insieme sono il frutto delle persone che vivono in questo mondo. Eppure, com’è sempre stato, dei nuovi fiori faranno capolino dalle ceneri di un campo arso, tremeranno al vento, e nuove foglie cresceranno sopra i rami bruciati e tra loro nuovi germogli di miscanto sbocceranno. Sbocceranno ancora.
Come hanno sempre fatto.”
Romanzo coreano di formazione.
Il quattordicenne Occhiapalla vive una vita serena nel quartiere di Seul dove la madre commercia piccoli oggetti in un’improvvisata bancarella.
Diventa sempre più difficile, però, sbarcare il lunario e i due si trasferiscono alla discarica dove sono stati assoldati come “operatori” addetti alla raccolta e cernita dei rifiuti.
Il romanzo s’incentra principalmente su questo luogo dove umani ed oggetti hanno in comune il fatto di essere scarti della società.
Dalla spazzatura si recupera materiale per costruire una baracca che sarà chiamata casa ma anche il cibo stesso che con una veloce ripulita e con la forza di una pancia vuota è il più buono del mondo.
Occhiapalla stringe amicizia con Pelatino e con Talpa.
Bambini che diventano uomini per necessità ma che conservano soprannomi che, in modo divertente, sottolineano le loro imperfezioni e che conservano un ultimo stralcio dell’infanzia perduta.
Il luogo dove lavorano e vivono ha un nome legato ad un passato ormai sotterrato su montagne d’immondizia: Isola fiorita.
Un tempo semplici famiglie di contadini lavoravano la terra condividendone i frutti e preservando l’ambiente fino al giorno in cui il governo con un esproprio fece piazza pulita.
Qualcosa però è rimasto: delle luci blu, presenze non visibili a tutti..
Una riflessione sul consumismo che ormai ci domina ed uno sguardo sulla società coreana e ai costi del grande sviluppo economico.
”Quella miriade di case, di edifici e di macchine, i sobborghi, i centri delle tante città, i lungofiumi, i ponti in ferro, le luci elettriche, i rumori assordanti, il vomito degli ubriachi, le discariche, gli oggetti buttati via, la polvere, il fumo, l’odore di marcio e tutte le sostanze tossiche. Tutte queste cose insieme sono il frutto delle persone che vivono in questo mondo. Eppure, com’è sempre stato, dei nuovi fiori faranno capolino dalle ceneri di un campo arso, tremeranno al vento, e nuove foglie cresceranno sopra i rami bruciati e tra loro nuovi germogli di miscanto sbocceranno. Sbocceranno ancora.
Come hanno sempre fatto.”
June 8, 2023
All of this, from the outskirts of the city to the heart of downtown, the countless houses and buildings and automobiles and highways and railroad bridges and street lights and the ear-splitting racket and the vomit on the streets left by drunks and the trash heaps and the discarded things and the dust and the smoke and the rotten smells and every toxic thing, all of these terrible things, were made by the living, by the people of this world. But, with time, the flower stalks would bore their way through the ash of the charred fields and stretch and sway in the wind, tender new leaves would unfurl on the scorched branches, the dark-green blades of young silver grass would slide up from the earth. They would come back. They always had.
Familiar Things is Sora Kim-Russell's of 황석영 (Hwang Sok-yong)'s 2011 novel 낯익은 세상 (more literally Familiar World).
The author is one of the most renowned in Korea and this is the 6th of his novels I've read in translation, but his works don't really resonate with me. That said this is one of my favourites of his works to date (I have the most recent translated novel Mater 2-10 on my TBR stack).
The novel is set around 1980 (as Michael at The Complete Review observed, the clues to the dates don't quite tie up) on the outskirts of a large city in Korea.
The novel is told from the perspective of 'Bugeye' a 13 year-old boy. (In the original his nickname was 딱부리, similar to the word for woodpecker 딱따구리, and which might be rendered as Sharpbeak) and there is a YA flavour to the story as a result.
Bugeye's father is in a 're-education' camp following a crack down by the new General (presumably 전두환) and he and his mother had been living in the slums of the city, an existence which was very hard for his mother financially but somewhat idealised for Bugeye:
Bugeye sometimes missed the crumbling streets of his old hillside slum. How wonderful it had been to wander uphill and downhill, getting lost in those steep, cramped alleyways that tunnelled off in all directions past cinder-block walls patched and mended with odds and ends, having his way blocked by shaggy, unwashed dogs humping in the middle of the alley, or by grannies sitting around in circles with their wrinkled, sagging breasts hanging halfway out of the bottoms of their torn, sleeveless undershirts as they got drunk on makkolli with each other right there in the street, picking his way through the scattered ash of spent coal briquettes and empty instant noodle wrappers skittering around in the wind, hearing a little girl sing from behind a tiny, opened window in the house that her parents locked before leaving for work, the baby on the girl’s back almost as big as she was, and seeing the summer flowers dance in the wind beneath the flapping underwear hung out to dry behind the soy sauce and bean paste crocks, and the lamplit windows twinkling like stars against the darkened sky after nightfall, and the marketplace—the magnificent marketplace! The factory girls at the sweatshop where Bugeye did odd jobs used to crank up the radio and sing along or stuff fried mandu into Bugeye’s mouth and laugh out loud, and the clothes they sewed were as beautiful as flowers.
His mother is persuaded to move out of the city to Flower Island (꽃섬), a once beautiful place but now the municipal dump. There a large, and licenced, community make a living out of sorting and selling-on the garbage that is dumped, each group allocated to the dump from a particular part of the city, the permits to do the work more expensive depending on the quality of the area from which the rubbish arrives.
A month had already passed since Bugeye and his mother moved to Flower Island. She had tried to console Bugeye at first by saying that people lived there just like anywhere else, but he knew it was a garbage dump filled with things used up and tossed aside, things people had grown tired of using, and things that were no longer of any use to anyone at all, and that the people who lived there were likewise discards and outcasts driven from the city.
His mother shacks up with the man who persuaded her to come (himself owner of a permit for one of the areas of the dump) and Bugeye befriends his younger son who acts as his guide to the local area.
It's hard and foul-smelling work but more lucrative than trying to survive in the city, even if most of the food the family eat is what is thrown away, except at the end of the month when the goods are sold and the workers buy some food from the nearby market and get drunk on soju and makkoli.
The novel creates effectively the atmosphere of the work, and the camaradie as well as rivalries within the community, the passing of the seasons marked by changes in the recycling pickings - Chuseok is a goldmine of left-over edible food, while in Kimchi making season 50% of the rubbish i charcoal and rotten cabbage leaves.
But the novel's real pleasure comes in the games the boys play and the inclusion of the fantastical when Bugeye and his friend, following some blue lights, encounter some dokkaebi, a family of ghost-like figures who inhabit Flower Island in a parallel earlier time when it lived up to its name.
A pleasant and well-told story - 3.5 stars, rounded to 3 for now but a worthwhile read.
Familiar Things is Sora Kim-Russell's of 황석영 (Hwang Sok-yong)'s 2011 novel 낯익은 세상 (more literally Familiar World).
The author is one of the most renowned in Korea and this is the 6th of his novels I've read in translation, but his works don't really resonate with me. That said this is one of my favourites of his works to date (I have the most recent translated novel Mater 2-10 on my TBR stack).
The novel is set around 1980 (as Michael at The Complete Review observed, the clues to the dates don't quite tie up) on the outskirts of a large city in Korea.
The novel is told from the perspective of 'Bugeye' a 13 year-old boy. (In the original his nickname was 딱부리, similar to the word for woodpecker 딱따구리, and which might be rendered as Sharpbeak) and there is a YA flavour to the story as a result.
Bugeye's father is in a 're-education' camp following a crack down by the new General (presumably 전두환) and he and his mother had been living in the slums of the city, an existence which was very hard for his mother financially but somewhat idealised for Bugeye:
Bugeye sometimes missed the crumbling streets of his old hillside slum. How wonderful it had been to wander uphill and downhill, getting lost in those steep, cramped alleyways that tunnelled off in all directions past cinder-block walls patched and mended with odds and ends, having his way blocked by shaggy, unwashed dogs humping in the middle of the alley, or by grannies sitting around in circles with their wrinkled, sagging breasts hanging halfway out of the bottoms of their torn, sleeveless undershirts as they got drunk on makkolli with each other right there in the street, picking his way through the scattered ash of spent coal briquettes and empty instant noodle wrappers skittering around in the wind, hearing a little girl sing from behind a tiny, opened window in the house that her parents locked before leaving for work, the baby on the girl’s back almost as big as she was, and seeing the summer flowers dance in the wind beneath the flapping underwear hung out to dry behind the soy sauce and bean paste crocks, and the lamplit windows twinkling like stars against the darkened sky after nightfall, and the marketplace—the magnificent marketplace! The factory girls at the sweatshop where Bugeye did odd jobs used to crank up the radio and sing along or stuff fried mandu into Bugeye’s mouth and laugh out loud, and the clothes they sewed were as beautiful as flowers.
His mother is persuaded to move out of the city to Flower Island (꽃섬), a once beautiful place but now the municipal dump. There a large, and licenced, community make a living out of sorting and selling-on the garbage that is dumped, each group allocated to the dump from a particular part of the city, the permits to do the work more expensive depending on the quality of the area from which the rubbish arrives.
A month had already passed since Bugeye and his mother moved to Flower Island. She had tried to console Bugeye at first by saying that people lived there just like anywhere else, but he knew it was a garbage dump filled with things used up and tossed aside, things people had grown tired of using, and things that were no longer of any use to anyone at all, and that the people who lived there were likewise discards and outcasts driven from the city.
His mother shacks up with the man who persuaded her to come (himself owner of a permit for one of the areas of the dump) and Bugeye befriends his younger son who acts as his guide to the local area.
It's hard and foul-smelling work but more lucrative than trying to survive in the city, even if most of the food the family eat is what is thrown away, except at the end of the month when the goods are sold and the workers buy some food from the nearby market and get drunk on soju and makkoli.
The novel creates effectively the atmosphere of the work, and the camaradie as well as rivalries within the community, the passing of the seasons marked by changes in the recycling pickings - Chuseok is a goldmine of left-over edible food, while in Kimchi making season 50% of the rubbish i charcoal and rotten cabbage leaves.
But the novel's real pleasure comes in the games the boys play and the inclusion of the fantastical when Bugeye and his friend, following some blue lights, encounter some dokkaebi, a family of ghost-like figures who inhabit Flower Island in a parallel earlier time when it lived up to its name.
A pleasant and well-told story - 3.5 stars, rounded to 3 for now but a worthwhile read.
October 10, 2022
Pod tą nijaką okładką, która równie dobrze może zapowiadać miałką powieść obyczajową, kryminał z wątkiem społecznym, czy inną taśmową produkcję literacką, kryje się niezwykle wciągająca, doskonale napisana opowieść o losach pracowników wysypiska śmieci znajdującego się pod dużym koreańskim miastem.
Wytrzeszcz - bo takie przezwisko przylgnęło do głównego bohatera książki Hwang Song-Yonga - ma trzynaście lat, “zaliczył podstawówkę tylko do pierwszego semestru piątej klasy”, po czym poszedł do pracy na targu w sklepie z ubraniami. Matka chłopca również prowadziła kram na targu, dzięki czemu było ich stać na “wynajem lichego pokoju gdzieś w dzielnicy biedy i na trzy posiłki dziennie”. Ojciec dziecka “zniknął”. Zapewne wpadł w obławę policyjną i został “zabrany na reedukację”. Jak wyjaśnia narrator powieści, “odkąd nowy generał doszedł do władzy i zapowiedział oczyszczenie społeczeństwa, chodziły pogłoski, że wszelkie menelstwo, gangsterzy, osoby z wyrokami czy nawet z tatuażem” zakłócający “spokój publiczny” trafią do ośrodków, mających “zrobić z nich nowych ludzi”.
Sok-Yong w “Znajomym świecie” (tłum. Beata Kang-Bogusz) choć odnosi się do konkretnych wydarzeń z historii Korei Południowej, czyli dyktatury Chun Doo-hwana, która nastała z początkiem lat 80. Kontekst polityczny jest oczywisty dla czytelników z Korei, dla nas może być trochę zaskakujący, bo kraj ten kojarzy nam się raczej z nowoczesnymi technologiami i reportażami o edukacji, których ostatnio kilka ukazało się nawet po polsku. Tak czy inaczej - Sok-Yong opowiada o losach ludzi, których reżim dyktatora, a później dyktat modernizacji i kapitalizmu traktował jak niewidzialnych.
Namówiona przez przyjaciela ojca, matka Wytrzeszcza decyduje się zmienić pracę i zamieszkać na wysypisku śmieci, gdzie praca przy sortowaniu śmieci jest wyjątkowo trudna, ale zarobki dużo lepsze niż na targowisku. I choć dzieci nie mogą pracować razem z rodzicami, to Wytrzeszcz wygląda na starszego, a jego nowy ojczym - relacja matki z przyjacielem ojca szybko okazuje się romansem - jest szefem sektora na wysypisku, więc nikt im w tej małej mistyfikacji nie przeszkadza. “Znajomy świat” to pełen detali obraz mikrospołeczności żyjącej na i z wysypiska śmieci. Wysypisko dostarcza jedzenia, ubrań, materiałów budowlanych i pozwala na zarobienie pieniędzy.
Wyspa Kwiatów. O ironio, taką nazwę nosi miejsce, w którym utkną Wytrzeszcz i jego matka. Powieść południowokoreańskiego pisarza zawiera dość oczywiste wątki jak rywalizację między dziećmi, w której decyduje prawo silniejszego, ale i egzekwowany ze stanowczością kodeks etyczny, czy dziecięcą wspólnotę, budowaną wokół marzeń o świecie lepszym, w którym słodycze nie są dostępne tylko od święta. Jeśli już przy świętach jesteśmy, to warto zwrócić uwagę na antykonsumpcjonistyczny wątek tej powieści - znowu dość oczywisty, ale bardzo sprawnie przez Sok-Yonga wprowadzony do książki. Pracownicy wysypiska najwięcej zarabiają bowiem w święta, wtedy ciężarówki zwożą z miasta mnóstwo warzyw, czy ledwie rozpakowane prezenty.
Byłaby to powieść, w której fikcja tylko dokumentuje rzeczywistość, gdyby nie fakt, że Sok-Yong wprowadza do książki elementy innej, fantastycznej rzeczywistości. Chłopcy z wysypiska odkrywają bowiem inny świat - tajemniczego Dziadka, opiekującą się porzuconymi psami Mamę Chudziny i rodzinę Kimów, których pojawienie się zapowiadają niebieskie światełka. Alternatywna Wyspa Kwiatów sprzed powstania wysypiska jest oczywistą (może trochę nadto oczywistą) alegorią tego jak modernizacja i rozwój przemieniają, a następnie niszczą świat. Autor sięga tu po koreańską mitologię, w której występują "dokkaebi", legendarne stworzenia. Ich pojawienie się zapowiadają migoczące światła lub płomienie, a same stworzonka przybierają różne postaci i raczej są duszkami pomagającymi niż przeszkadzającymi. W jaki sposób rodzina Kimów odwdzięczy się Wytrzeszczowi za przyniesione łakocie i co z tego wyniknie będzie baśniowym, całkiem sprawnym zwrotem akcji pod koniec tej naprawdę czułej na ludzki los opowieści.
“Znajomy świat” jest najciekawszy w momentach, gdy autor pokazuje jak tworzy się społeczeństwo śmietnika, jaką ma moralność i czy widzi szansę na zmianę swojego losu. Jest to analiza pełna ciekawych momentów, a sama powieść napisana jest oszczędnym językiem i choć momentami pobrzmiewa banałem (opowieść o tym, że do biednych dzieci nie przychodzi święty Mikołaj), to zawiera też sporo krytyki narracji poświęconych marginalizowanym grupom społecznym.
Powodem, dla którego zawsze chwalę przednoblowską gorączkę, jest odkrywanie na listach nazwisk pisarzy i pisarek, których nie znam, a których poznać pragnę. Tak też było z Sok-Yongiem, którego “Znajomy świat” to druga przeczytana przeze mnie książka w ostatnim czasie. Nie żałuję, wręcz przeciwnie - pozostaję pod wrażeniem tej pełnej detali, smutku i brutalnej prawdy o świecie książki, w której jest też sporo bajkowej nadziei, a mimo to powieść nawet na moment nie osuwa się w kicz.
Sok-Yong pokazuje, że wraz z modernizacją i postępem idzie wyniszczenie kultury, ludzi i środowiska. I pokazuje to momentami wirtuozersko.
Wytrzeszcz - bo takie przezwisko przylgnęło do głównego bohatera książki Hwang Song-Yonga - ma trzynaście lat, “zaliczył podstawówkę tylko do pierwszego semestru piątej klasy”, po czym poszedł do pracy na targu w sklepie z ubraniami. Matka chłopca również prowadziła kram na targu, dzięki czemu było ich stać na “wynajem lichego pokoju gdzieś w dzielnicy biedy i na trzy posiłki dziennie”. Ojciec dziecka “zniknął”. Zapewne wpadł w obławę policyjną i został “zabrany na reedukację”. Jak wyjaśnia narrator powieści, “odkąd nowy generał doszedł do władzy i zapowiedział oczyszczenie społeczeństwa, chodziły pogłoski, że wszelkie menelstwo, gangsterzy, osoby z wyrokami czy nawet z tatuażem” zakłócający “spokój publiczny” trafią do ośrodków, mających “zrobić z nich nowych ludzi”.
Sok-Yong w “Znajomym świecie” (tłum. Beata Kang-Bogusz) choć odnosi się do konkretnych wydarzeń z historii Korei Południowej, czyli dyktatury Chun Doo-hwana, która nastała z początkiem lat 80. Kontekst polityczny jest oczywisty dla czytelników z Korei, dla nas może być trochę zaskakujący, bo kraj ten kojarzy nam się raczej z nowoczesnymi technologiami i reportażami o edukacji, których ostatnio kilka ukazało się nawet po polsku. Tak czy inaczej - Sok-Yong opowiada o losach ludzi, których reżim dyktatora, a później dyktat modernizacji i kapitalizmu traktował jak niewidzialnych.
Namówiona przez przyjaciela ojca, matka Wytrzeszcza decyduje się zmienić pracę i zamieszkać na wysypisku śmieci, gdzie praca przy sortowaniu śmieci jest wyjątkowo trudna, ale zarobki dużo lepsze niż na targowisku. I choć dzieci nie mogą pracować razem z rodzicami, to Wytrzeszcz wygląda na starszego, a jego nowy ojczym - relacja matki z przyjacielem ojca szybko okazuje się romansem - jest szefem sektora na wysypisku, więc nikt im w tej małej mistyfikacji nie przeszkadza. “Znajomy świat” to pełen detali obraz mikrospołeczności żyjącej na i z wysypiska śmieci. Wysypisko dostarcza jedzenia, ubrań, materiałów budowlanych i pozwala na zarobienie pieniędzy.
Wyspa Kwiatów. O ironio, taką nazwę nosi miejsce, w którym utkną Wytrzeszcz i jego matka. Powieść południowokoreańskiego pisarza zawiera dość oczywiste wątki jak rywalizację między dziećmi, w której decyduje prawo silniejszego, ale i egzekwowany ze stanowczością kodeks etyczny, czy dziecięcą wspólnotę, budowaną wokół marzeń o świecie lepszym, w którym słodycze nie są dostępne tylko od święta. Jeśli już przy świętach jesteśmy, to warto zwrócić uwagę na antykonsumpcjonistyczny wątek tej powieści - znowu dość oczywisty, ale bardzo sprawnie przez Sok-Yonga wprowadzony do książki. Pracownicy wysypiska najwięcej zarabiają bowiem w święta, wtedy ciężarówki zwożą z miasta mnóstwo warzyw, czy ledwie rozpakowane prezenty.
Byłaby to powieść, w której fikcja tylko dokumentuje rzeczywistość, gdyby nie fakt, że Sok-Yong wprowadza do książki elementy innej, fantastycznej rzeczywistości. Chłopcy z wysypiska odkrywają bowiem inny świat - tajemniczego Dziadka, opiekującą się porzuconymi psami Mamę Chudziny i rodzinę Kimów, których pojawienie się zapowiadają niebieskie światełka. Alternatywna Wyspa Kwiatów sprzed powstania wysypiska jest oczywistą (może trochę nadto oczywistą) alegorią tego jak modernizacja i rozwój przemieniają, a następnie niszczą świat. Autor sięga tu po koreańską mitologię, w której występują "dokkaebi", legendarne stworzenia. Ich pojawienie się zapowiadają migoczące światła lub płomienie, a same stworzonka przybierają różne postaci i raczej są duszkami pomagającymi niż przeszkadzającymi. W jaki sposób rodzina Kimów odwdzięczy się Wytrzeszczowi za przyniesione łakocie i co z tego wyniknie będzie baśniowym, całkiem sprawnym zwrotem akcji pod koniec tej naprawdę czułej na ludzki los opowieści.
“Znajomy świat” jest najciekawszy w momentach, gdy autor pokazuje jak tworzy się społeczeństwo śmietnika, jaką ma moralność i czy widzi szansę na zmianę swojego losu. Jest to analiza pełna ciekawych momentów, a sama powieść napisana jest oszczędnym językiem i choć momentami pobrzmiewa banałem (opowieść o tym, że do biednych dzieci nie przychodzi święty Mikołaj), to zawiera też sporo krytyki narracji poświęconych marginalizowanym grupom społecznym.
Powodem, dla którego zawsze chwalę przednoblowską gorączkę, jest odkrywanie na listach nazwisk pisarzy i pisarek, których nie znam, a których poznać pragnę. Tak też było z Sok-Yongiem, którego “Znajomy świat” to druga przeczytana przeze mnie książka w ostatnim czasie. Nie żałuję, wręcz przeciwnie - pozostaję pod wrażeniem tej pełnej detali, smutku i brutalnej prawdy o świecie książki, w której jest też sporo bajkowej nadziei, a mimo to powieść nawet na moment nie osuwa się w kicz.
Sok-Yong pokazuje, że wraz z modernizacją i postępem idzie wyniszczenie kultury, ludzi i środowiska. I pokazuje to momentami wirtuozersko.
November 14, 2020
İkinci Hwang Sok Yong okumam, yine aynı his: Hayal kırıklığı.
Daha iyisi olabilecek bi' potansiyelden eh, meh, fena değil ekseninde dönüp duran yorucu bir okuma. İnsan en çok buna bozuluyor zaten. Ki sorun yazardan mı kaynaklı bize ulaştıran kaynaklardan mı onu da çözemiyorum. Çünkü her şeyi bitirdik, takmadığımız bi’ özel isimler kaldı. Telaffuzları Türkçeleştirmek gibi bi’ mantığı assssla algılayamamakla beraber, kolay okunması için tercih edildiğini varsayarak kolaylıktan ziyade okur için büyük bir eziyet olduğunu belirtmek istiyorum.
Ne zamandır kitapları böyle okur olduk ki? Amerikan, İngiliz romanları okurken isimleri okunuşlarıyla yazıyorlardı da ben mi kaçırdım? Phoebe yerine Fiğbiğ gibi?
Johnny - Coni, Ethan - İytın, Conor – Kanır? Yok daha neler!
Düşünsenize, Sherlock Holmes'ü aynı bu şekilde okuyoruz: Şarlok Holms, Con Vatsın'a baktı Maykıraft Holms de oradaydı sdgşdsklhgkdsjhgldslgs
Ya da Yüzüklerin Efendisi: Furodo, Semvayz Gemciğ ve Meri Bırendiğbak'a döndü.
Neyse Tanıdık Şeyler’e geri dönelim: Bu kitabı okuyan ama Kore kültürüne yatkın olmayan biri, “Yahu bu yedikleri Goçucanğ ne acaba?” diye merak edip, kelimeyi arama motoruna yazınca şöyle bir manzara ile karşılaşıyor:
HİÇLİK!
Arama motoru “Şunu mu demek istediniz?” bile diyemiyor, hiçbir bilgi veremiyor- direkt dutluk.
Romanizasyon/Romantizasyon kullanarak ifadeleri Latin alfabesine şekil şükül yapmadan geçirirsek; kelimemiz 고추장 = Gochujang olacak.
Böyle yazıldığı zaman okuyamıyor muyuz peki? Okuyoruz.
Erişilebilir kaynaklar var mı? Evet, en başta Vikipedi.
Ee peki, bizim dilimizde ng sesi, ğ sesi var diye gerçekten böyle bir yol mu izlenmeli? Hayır.
Kendi adıma az çok aşinası olduğum bir kültür ve az evvel verdiğim örnek gibi okurken çocukların oynadıkları bir oyunu merak ettim: Cidgodenğ diye geçiyor.
Ama oyuna/içeriğe dair hiçbir bilgiye ulaşamadım. Ayrıca kitabın ne başında not var, ne sonunda.
Hal böyle olunca hiç kimseye öneride falan bulunamıyorum.
Sütten ağzı yanana dönüyor olay.
Durum vahim.
Daha iyisi olabilecek bi' potansiyelden eh, meh, fena değil ekseninde dönüp duran yorucu bir okuma. İnsan en çok buna bozuluyor zaten. Ki sorun yazardan mı kaynaklı bize ulaştıran kaynaklardan mı onu da çözemiyorum. Çünkü her şeyi bitirdik, takmadığımız bi’ özel isimler kaldı. Telaffuzları Türkçeleştirmek gibi bi’ mantığı assssla algılayamamakla beraber, kolay okunması için tercih edildiğini varsayarak kolaylıktan ziyade okur için büyük bir eziyet olduğunu belirtmek istiyorum.
Ne zamandır kitapları böyle okur olduk ki? Amerikan, İngiliz romanları okurken isimleri okunuşlarıyla yazıyorlardı da ben mi kaçırdım? Phoebe yerine Fiğbiğ gibi?
Johnny - Coni, Ethan - İytın, Conor – Kanır? Yok daha neler!
Düşünsenize, Sherlock Holmes'ü aynı bu şekilde okuyoruz: Şarlok Holms, Con Vatsın'a baktı Maykıraft Holms de oradaydı sdgşdsklhgkdsjhgldslgs
Ya da Yüzüklerin Efendisi: Furodo, Semvayz Gemciğ ve Meri Bırendiğbak'a döndü.
Neyse Tanıdık Şeyler’e geri dönelim: Bu kitabı okuyan ama Kore kültürüne yatkın olmayan biri, “Yahu bu yedikleri Goçucanğ ne acaba?” diye merak edip, kelimeyi arama motoruna yazınca şöyle bir manzara ile karşılaşıyor:
HİÇLİK!
Arama motoru “Şunu mu demek istediniz?” bile diyemiyor, hiçbir bilgi veremiyor- direkt dutluk.
Romanizasyon/Romantizasyon kullanarak ifadeleri Latin alfabesine şekil şükül yapmadan geçirirsek; kelimemiz 고추장 = Gochujang olacak.
Böyle yazıldığı zaman okuyamıyor muyuz peki? Okuyoruz.
Erişilebilir kaynaklar var mı? Evet, en başta Vikipedi.
Ee peki, bizim dilimizde ng sesi, ğ sesi var diye gerçekten böyle bir yol mu izlenmeli? Hayır.
Kendi adıma az çok aşinası olduğum bir kültür ve az evvel verdiğim örnek gibi okurken çocukların oynadıkları bir oyunu merak ettim: Cidgodenğ diye geçiyor.
Ama oyuna/içeriğe dair hiçbir bilgiye ulaşamadım. Ayrıca kitabın ne başında not var, ne sonunda.
Hal böyle olunca hiç kimseye öneride falan bulunamıyorum.
Sütten ağzı yanana dönüyor olay.
Durum vahim.
January 2, 2019
‘Dünyada sadece kendinizin mi yaşadığını sanıyorsunuz?’
.
Süper Mario’nun dile geldiğini düşünün..Prensesi kurtarmak için çıktığı yolda, onca macera arasında neler düşünürdü sizce? En kötü bölümlerden geçip saraya varmak mümkün mü?
.
Çiçek Adası’nda geçen günleri okuyoruz..Yalnız adı biraz yanıltıcı olabilir.. Çöp kamyonlarının gelip çöpleri yığdığı, onları ayrıştıran insanların barakalarda yaşadığı bir yer burası. Elit mahallerin çöpleri için kavga edilen, ailelerin şafaktan gün batımına dek çalıştığı. Çünkü o kadar çok çöp var ki ayrışması gereken..
.
Attığımız şeyler aslında ‘tanıdık şeyler’, sevmekten vazgeçtiğimiz, sıkıldığımız, yerine yenilerini koyduğumuz.. Belki kızdığımız, kıskandığımız, özlediğimizin özlemini arttıran şeyler.. Hepsi bir yerde toplanıyor, bir kazanda kaynamıyor, yüzüne bakmadığımız insanların elleri değiyor onlara. Ve bizim ellerimizde tutmadığımız şeyler ile yaşamaları mümkün oluyor..
.
Hwang Sok Yong, büyük cümleler kurmadan iki çocuğun gözünden anlatıyor bu Çiçek Adasını.. Saçkıran ve Pörtlek. İsimleri var elbet ama kim kullanır ki~ Gereği var mı isimlerin bu yerde?
.
Bir yandan misyonerlik ve Amerika etkisindeki Kore’yi görüyoruz, diğer yandan evrensel bir tabakalaşmayı: Tüketen ve tüketenlerin altında ezilenleri~
.
Yazarın okuduğum diğer eseri Prenses Bari de bir bu kadar etkileyiciydi. Orada yurtsuzluktu canımı yakan bu eserde ise yurdunda yaşayıp yurtsuz bırakılmak..Çalışabilmek için yaşını büyütmek, çocuğunu doyurabilmek için bir erkeğin sözlerini emir bellemek.. Acı da olsa gülümsetti pek çok kez, çünkü hala umut var! Özellikle çocukların gözlerinde!
.
Süper Mario’nun dile geldiğini düşünün..Prensesi kurtarmak için çıktığı yolda, onca macera arasında neler düşünürdü sizce? En kötü bölümlerden geçip saraya varmak mümkün mü?
.
Çiçek Adası’nda geçen günleri okuyoruz..Yalnız adı biraz yanıltıcı olabilir.. Çöp kamyonlarının gelip çöpleri yığdığı, onları ayrıştıran insanların barakalarda yaşadığı bir yer burası. Elit mahallerin çöpleri için kavga edilen, ailelerin şafaktan gün batımına dek çalıştığı. Çünkü o kadar çok çöp var ki ayrışması gereken..
.
Attığımız şeyler aslında ‘tanıdık şeyler’, sevmekten vazgeçtiğimiz, sıkıldığımız, yerine yenilerini koyduğumuz.. Belki kızdığımız, kıskandığımız, özlediğimizin özlemini arttıran şeyler.. Hepsi bir yerde toplanıyor, bir kazanda kaynamıyor, yüzüne bakmadığımız insanların elleri değiyor onlara. Ve bizim ellerimizde tutmadığımız şeyler ile yaşamaları mümkün oluyor..
.
Hwang Sok Yong, büyük cümleler kurmadan iki çocuğun gözünden anlatıyor bu Çiçek Adasını.. Saçkıran ve Pörtlek. İsimleri var elbet ama kim kullanır ki~ Gereği var mı isimlerin bu yerde?
.
Bir yandan misyonerlik ve Amerika etkisindeki Kore’yi görüyoruz, diğer yandan evrensel bir tabakalaşmayı: Tüketen ve tüketenlerin altında ezilenleri~
.
Yazarın okuduğum diğer eseri Prenses Bari de bir bu kadar etkileyiciydi. Orada yurtsuzluktu canımı yakan bu eserde ise yurdunda yaşayıp yurtsuz bırakılmak..Çalışabilmek için yaşını büyütmek, çocuğunu doyurabilmek için bir erkeğin sözlerini emir bellemek.. Acı da olsa gülümsetti pek çok kez, çünkü hala umut var! Özellikle çocukların gözlerinde!
February 10, 2021
A light read which quite insightful that portrayed the real poverty and struggles-- that grim reality of hopelessness of the underclass living in the landfill, surviving each days by collecting used goods, recyclable stuff, cardboards and tins, and sometimes food that past their expiration dates. Stirring plot that focus mostly on the characters. I love both Bugeye and Baldspot, also that pinch of magical and fantasy of dokkaebi.
I like Bugeye narrative which quite compelling to me, from living around the market to the landfill, about his mom and how he loves her too dearly that he dislike how she ended living with the Baron but decided to digress. Not really favoring the Baron cause of how he's been treating Baldspot (I was actually glad that he get caught in the middle).
Peddler Grandpa and his daughter were somehow mysterious to me. I love the scenes when both Bugeye and Baldspot met the little dokkaebi kiddo, the buckwheat jelly incident and how they went for an adventure to 'his' land. I think this part of combining the mythical creatures into the plot giving a bit of appealing structure to the storytelling. A view on the parallel universe of the landfill where beauty and nature is still intact.
No twisty or heavy conflict and tension except that nearly the end incident, also at some point the simple prose kind of giving a stagnant vibe and static emotion for me. A very straightforward plot despite how appalling it tried to depict the evidence of capitalism and the darker side of modernization. Giving it 3.5 stars.
I like Bugeye narrative which quite compelling to me, from living around the market to the landfill, about his mom and how he loves her too dearly that he dislike how she ended living with the Baron but decided to digress. Not really favoring the Baron cause of how he's been treating Baldspot (I was actually glad that he get caught in the middle).
Peddler Grandpa and his daughter were somehow mysterious to me. I love the scenes when both Bugeye and Baldspot met the little dokkaebi kiddo, the buckwheat jelly incident and how they went for an adventure to 'his' land. I think this part of combining the mythical creatures into the plot giving a bit of appealing structure to the storytelling. A view on the parallel universe of the landfill where beauty and nature is still intact.
No twisty or heavy conflict and tension except that nearly the end incident, also at some point the simple prose kind of giving a stagnant vibe and static emotion for me. A very straightforward plot despite how appalling it tried to depict the evidence of capitalism and the darker side of modernization. Giving it 3.5 stars.
November 19, 2022
Edebiyat sanatı açısından bakarsak oldukça zayıf bir roman fakat anlatılan hikayeyi önemli bulduğum için 2,5 yıldızdan 2 diyorum.
Not: Uzun bir yorum yazıp yayınla dedikten sonra her şey silindi. Tekrar yazmaya uğraşmayacağım. Kısa yorum kalsın. Bu siteye çok bile bu yazdıklarımız.
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December 14, 2023
Hacia el tramo final del libro, Ojos Saltones y Trasquilones, los dos personajes principales encuentran un buen alijo de joyas, que venden a un prestamista y así pueden gastarse un dinero que raramente han tenido en un lo que supongo es una Gameboy para jugar al Super Mario Bros., describiéndose luego cómo el fontanero puede entrar en submundos a través de tuberías. Este detalle, que parece trivial, en realidad es como una metáfora incorporada dentro de la narración, pues su epicentro, la infame Isla de las Flores, es un rincón que en verdad es un submundo dentro de una ciudad coreana, que funciona con sus propias reglas, al margen y bien alejada de los vecindarios 'normales'.
Los niños de esta novela se dedican a golfear y a veces ayudan a los adultos a recobrar basura, que luego revenden a contratistas del reciclaje. Ésa es su forma de vida, para ellos Santa Claus es algo que vagamente conocen por unas viñetas porque la celebración de la navidad no va con ese microcosmos al que están encajados, también recuerdan con asombro y maravilla alguna vez que han probado comida en un restaurante, porque normalmente se alimentan de productos caducados o de sobras de restaurantes.
Una inmersión descarnada en el lado más pobre de Corea del Sur, un relato de hechuras realistas que expone la parte más dolorosa de las desigualdades, que convenientemente permanece arrinconada, fuera de la vista de los ciudadanos 'de bien'. Es la primera novela coreana que leo, mi experiencia con la narrativa coreana se centra principalmente en las películas y hay que reconocer que en ese campo la denuncia social no es un tema muy común y frecuentado, contados son los ejemplos.
Narración bien engrasada, cruda y honesta. Reconozco que si bien el cómputo en general me gustó, tampoco me ha resultado nada extraordinaria más allá de su compromiso y el trato cuidadoso que hace de un tema muy delicado. Diría que si bien la panorámica me ha interesado, luego el relato que la recorre no me despertó grandes sensaciones. La prosa es muy sobria, sin gran vuelo poético, supongo que para adecuarse al mundo que aborda, por lo tanto leer una página de esta novela no produce ningún deslumbramiento. También, quiero suponer, que se puede deber a que el traslado de la lengua coreana a la española la prosa puede haber perdido algún tipo de musicalidad o matiz. Es el precio que a veces que hay que pagar por conocer historias de partes alejadas del mundo.
Supongo que leeré más obras de este escritor, su visión me parece atractiva, promete aproximaciones nada usuales a entornos fuera de mi alcance, además que su escritura es convincente. Espero que en el futuro toparé con otros de sus títulos más inspirados.
Los niños de esta novela se dedican a golfear y a veces ayudan a los adultos a recobrar basura, que luego revenden a contratistas del reciclaje. Ésa es su forma de vida, para ellos Santa Claus es algo que vagamente conocen por unas viñetas porque la celebración de la navidad no va con ese microcosmos al que están encajados, también recuerdan con asombro y maravilla alguna vez que han probado comida en un restaurante, porque normalmente se alimentan de productos caducados o de sobras de restaurantes.
Una inmersión descarnada en el lado más pobre de Corea del Sur, un relato de hechuras realistas que expone la parte más dolorosa de las desigualdades, que convenientemente permanece arrinconada, fuera de la vista de los ciudadanos 'de bien'. Es la primera novela coreana que leo, mi experiencia con la narrativa coreana se centra principalmente en las películas y hay que reconocer que en ese campo la denuncia social no es un tema muy común y frecuentado, contados son los ejemplos.
Narración bien engrasada, cruda y honesta. Reconozco que si bien el cómputo en general me gustó, tampoco me ha resultado nada extraordinaria más allá de su compromiso y el trato cuidadoso que hace de un tema muy delicado. Diría que si bien la panorámica me ha interesado, luego el relato que la recorre no me despertó grandes sensaciones. La prosa es muy sobria, sin gran vuelo poético, supongo que para adecuarse al mundo que aborda, por lo tanto leer una página de esta novela no produce ningún deslumbramiento. También, quiero suponer, que se puede deber a que el traslado de la lengua coreana a la española la prosa puede haber perdido algún tipo de musicalidad o matiz. Es el precio que a veces que hay que pagar por conocer historias de partes alejadas del mundo.
Supongo que leeré más obras de este escritor, su visión me parece atractiva, promete aproximaciones nada usuales a entornos fuera de mi alcance, además que su escritura es convincente. Espero que en el futuro toparé con otros de sus títulos más inspirados.
July 1, 2021
„Znajomy świat” Hwanga Sok-Yonga to historia Wytrzeszcza, który po tym jak jego ojciec trafia do obozu reedukacji, wraz z matką przenosi się ze slumsów na tzw. Wyspę Kwiatów. Jest to ogromne wysypisko śmieci na obrzeżach Seulu, na którym tysiące ludzi żyją z tego, co uda im się znaleźć wśród odpadów.
Gdy początkowo czytałam opis przeraziła mnie ta wizja i byłam przekonana, że to dystopia. A potem zgłębiając temat i poszukując szerszego kontekstu okazało się, że Wyspa Kwiatów istniała naprawdę w latach 80.
„Znajomy świat” zmusza do refleksji i zastanowienia się nad tym, ile rzeczy jest produkowanych, a potem bezrefleksyjnie wyrzucanych. Na co dzień nie zastanawiamy się, co dzieje się z rzeczami, które wyrzucamy do kosza i gdzie one trafiają.
To była bardzo ciekawa i refleksyjna lektura o kapitalizmie i wyrzutkach społeczeństwa. I choć fabularnie nie do końca mnie porwała i nie trafi do moich ulubieńców, to myślę, że warto się nią zainteresować. Jest krótka i sprawnie napisana, więc czyta się ją praktycznie na raz, a w głowie zostaje na dłużej. Nie jest to lektura obowiązkowa, ale warta uwagi. Polecam.
3.5/5
Gdy początkowo czytałam opis przeraziła mnie ta wizja i byłam przekonana, że to dystopia. A potem zgłębiając temat i poszukując szerszego kontekstu okazało się, że Wyspa Kwiatów istniała naprawdę w latach 80.
„Znajomy świat” zmusza do refleksji i zastanowienia się nad tym, ile rzeczy jest produkowanych, a potem bezrefleksyjnie wyrzucanych. Na co dzień nie zastanawiamy się, co dzieje się z rzeczami, które wyrzucamy do kosza i gdzie one trafiają.
To była bardzo ciekawa i refleksyjna lektura o kapitalizmie i wyrzutkach społeczeństwa. I choć fabularnie nie do końca mnie porwała i nie trafi do moich ulubieńców, to myślę, że warto się nią zainteresować. Jest krótka i sprawnie napisana, więc czyta się ją praktycznie na raz, a w głowie zostaje na dłużej. Nie jest to lektura obowiązkowa, ale warta uwagi. Polecam.
3.5/5
July 25, 2022
Mind-and-Eye opening read. This is what Tokyo Ueno Station wanted to be but couldn’t
3.8⭐️
3.8⭐️
November 14, 2020
☑Seul ,años 70...Una mujer cuyo marido ha desaparecido...han decidido reeducarlo en un cuartel militar.
Tiene un hijo al que alimentar,recibe una curiosa propuesta de un amigo de su marido :dejar el trabajo en un puesto del mercado para trabajar en un vertedero...donde tendrá una chabola por la que no pagara alquiler y ganara el triple...vamos, garantía de comida.
☑Me encuentro nuevamente con una prosa sencilla,con un realismo amable de lo cotidiano(apesar de la dureza de este mundo que retrata en Isla de las Flores).
Deja lugar a la esperanza, a la alegría de vivir.
☑Esta vez con un punto de fantasía, que une el pasado de los habitantes actuales del vertedero con los primeros habitantes :la familia del pequeño Kim.
🖤Ojos salones y la relación con el pequeño y maltratado Trasquilon son un mundo aparte en esta realidad económica donde el progreso deja marginación y supervivencia.
Como uno de ellos decía:tengo un Yong,un hermano, que se cayó de un camión de basura...así se llega a este lugar...en un camión literalmente transportados como desechos entre desechos .
📌"(...)si estaban allí era porque la ciudad los había desechado. Eran ,sin más, desechos humanos".
☑El posicionamiento político y la crítica social le valieron al autor 5 años de cárcel...donde le prohibieron escribir.
Es de agradecer que se traduzca su obra y se de difusión por su calidad literaria y compromiso social.
🖤A mi este punto dickensiano de los personajes me ha convertido definitivamente en fan y si le sumas un punto onírico muy Murakami, en la familia Kim...ya no puedo pedir más.
Tiene un hijo al que alimentar,recibe una curiosa propuesta de un amigo de su marido :dejar el trabajo en un puesto del mercado para trabajar en un vertedero...donde tendrá una chabola por la que no pagara alquiler y ganara el triple...vamos, garantía de comida.
☑Me encuentro nuevamente con una prosa sencilla,con un realismo amable de lo cotidiano(apesar de la dureza de este mundo que retrata en Isla de las Flores).
Deja lugar a la esperanza, a la alegría de vivir.
☑Esta vez con un punto de fantasía, que une el pasado de los habitantes actuales del vertedero con los primeros habitantes :la familia del pequeño Kim.
🖤Ojos salones y la relación con el pequeño y maltratado Trasquilon son un mundo aparte en esta realidad económica donde el progreso deja marginación y supervivencia.
Como uno de ellos decía:tengo un Yong,un hermano, que se cayó de un camión de basura...así se llega a este lugar...en un camión literalmente transportados como desechos entre desechos .
📌"(...)si estaban allí era porque la ciudad los había desechado. Eran ,sin más, desechos humanos".
☑El posicionamiento político y la crítica social le valieron al autor 5 años de cárcel...donde le prohibieron escribir.
Es de agradecer que se traduzca su obra y se de difusión por su calidad literaria y compromiso social.
🖤A mi este punto dickensiano de los personajes me ha convertido definitivamente en fan y si le sumas un punto onírico muy Murakami, en la familia Kim...ya no puedo pedir más.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 24, 2024
3.5
Gdybym przeczytała opis tej książki, a nie tylko rzuciła okiem, to pewnie nigdy bym po nią nie sięgnęła, bo to zupełnie nie moje klimaty, ale kurczę, wiele bym straciła. To naprawdę świetna książka, mądra, z piękną braterską relacją i fajnym realizmem magicznym. Cieszę się, że ją przeczytałam.
Gdybym przeczytała opis tej książki, a nie tylko rzuciła okiem, to pewnie nigdy bym po nią nie sięgnęła, bo to zupełnie nie moje klimaty, ale kurczę, wiele bym straciła. To naprawdę świetna książka, mądra, z piękną braterską relacją i fajnym realizmem magicznym. Cieszę się, że ją przeczytałam.
May 31, 2018
It is few and far between when a book leaves me shellshocked, but this one has done that. I finished it ten minutes ago and I still feel myself ready to cry over this ending and this book overall. It is a truly powerful read. Right now I honestly cannot put into words how I feel about this particular book except I think this one will haunt me for awhile.
March 10, 2020
These characters will teach you some things if you allow them. There were some beautiful themes during some not so beautiful events. I got a ton of Parasite vibes with the depiction of these lower class people, especially when it came to their smell. I would recommend this if you are interested in learning about the struggles many people face each day just because they have no other choice.
October 5, 2025
Watch my review on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQmct...
Read my review on Substack here - https://open.substack.com/pub/barrywe...
Read my review on Substack here - https://open.substack.com/pub/barrywe...
September 30, 2025
2,5/5
Başlangıcını biraz Latife Tekin romanlarına benzettim. Prenses Bari kadar sürükleyici değildi benim için ve okuması biraz zorladı fakat asıl anlatılmak istenene baktığımda büyük resim oldukça güzel.
Başlangıcını biraz Latife Tekin romanlarına benzettim. Prenses Bari kadar sürükleyici değildi benim için ve okuması biraz zorladı fakat asıl anlatılmak istenene baktığımda büyük resim oldukça güzel.
July 25, 2022
Esta historia transcurre en Nanjido que en 1970 se convirtió en el vertedero oficial de Seúl y entre 1978 y 1993 tantas toneladas de basura fueron depositados allí que se había creado una montaña de 98cm de alto, y ocupaba 2.715.900 metros cuadrados. Se dice que podría haber sido el basurero más alto del mundo.
Fue en 1993 que Nanjido dejó de ser un basurero. Luego de que cerrara se designó al lugar como un parque ecológico y se buscaba poder quitar toda esa basura y ocupar el espacio con árboles.
Actualmente tiene cinco parques temáticos.
Siempre esta bueno tener un poco de contexto sobre lo que vamos a leer, y en este caso es fundamental.
Todas las cosas de nuestra vida nos muestra la vida de un joven que le gusta ser llamado "Ojos saltones" junto a su madre que van en busca de una vida mejor pero creo que pocos podríamos decir que realmente fue a mejor. Es así que terminan en Nanjido, ocupándose de la "basura" que todos los ciudadanos de Seúl desechaban. Aquí nos encontramos con que muchas de esas cosas que la gente ve como "basura" para ellxs tiene valor. Incluso vemos momentos donde se encuentran animales. Triste, pero muy real.
Es una historia fuerte, que no tiene momentos lindos porque siempre se ven opacados por otras cosas, uno sabe que nada bueno podría salir de ciertas situaciones y es una pálida detrás de la otra.
Si bien me pareció una historia interesante y que tiene una graaan crítica no llegue a conectar del todo, no me enganché por completo y había momentos que se me hacían tediosos. Pero la pregunta que me hago es... ¿es para entretener este libro? no lo creo.
Todas las cosas de nuestra vida es una historia para leer lentamente, sin prisa, que lleva su tiempo, que nos permite ver la realidad de miles de personas al rededor del mundo. Que uno sabe que están, pero no sabe realmente cómo es que viven.
Es fuerte, es dura, es cruel.
Tiene momentos muy delicados porque podrían afectar al lector.
Más reseñas y recomendaciones 👉 https://www.instagram.com/magui.world/
Fue en 1993 que Nanjido dejó de ser un basurero. Luego de que cerrara se designó al lugar como un parque ecológico y se buscaba poder quitar toda esa basura y ocupar el espacio con árboles.
Actualmente tiene cinco parques temáticos.
Siempre esta bueno tener un poco de contexto sobre lo que vamos a leer, y en este caso es fundamental.
Todas las cosas de nuestra vida nos muestra la vida de un joven que le gusta ser llamado "Ojos saltones" junto a su madre que van en busca de una vida mejor pero creo que pocos podríamos decir que realmente fue a mejor. Es así que terminan en Nanjido, ocupándose de la "basura" que todos los ciudadanos de Seúl desechaban. Aquí nos encontramos con que muchas de esas cosas que la gente ve como "basura" para ellxs tiene valor. Incluso vemos momentos donde se encuentran animales. Triste, pero muy real.
Es una historia fuerte, que no tiene momentos lindos porque siempre se ven opacados por otras cosas, uno sabe que nada bueno podría salir de ciertas situaciones y es una pálida detrás de la otra.
Si bien me pareció una historia interesante y que tiene una graaan crítica no llegue a conectar del todo, no me enganché por completo y había momentos que se me hacían tediosos. Pero la pregunta que me hago es... ¿es para entretener este libro? no lo creo.
Todas las cosas de nuestra vida es una historia para leer lentamente, sin prisa, que lleva su tiempo, que nos permite ver la realidad de miles de personas al rededor del mundo. Que uno sabe que están, pero no sabe realmente cómo es que viven.
Es fuerte, es dura, es cruel.
Tiene momentos muy delicados porque podrían afectar al lector.
Más reseñas y recomendaciones 👉 https://www.instagram.com/magui.world/
February 16, 2020
Bugeye and his mom move to flower island, the city's dumping site after his small time crook dad is taken to a correctional facility. The book describes the lives of trash workers in great detail, there are classes and hierarchies, power and money to be made, even bribes.
They merge with another family and Bugeye gets a smaller stepbrother, we see him grow up before his time as he moulds himself into a stinky grime covered life with luminous but rare moments of happiness and enjoyment, with little hope of a better future.
I'm glad I read this book.
They merge with another family and Bugeye gets a smaller stepbrother, we see him grow up before his time as he moulds himself into a stinky grime covered life with luminous but rare moments of happiness and enjoyment, with little hope of a better future.
I'm glad I read this book.
April 6, 2020
Todas las cosas de nuestra vida está inspirado en la realidad que se vivió en la isla de Nanjido, en Corea del Sur, que entre 1978 y 1993 fue convertida en un inmenso vertedero en el que se acumulaba la basura proveniente de Seúl, y donde cientos de personas malvivían cada día recogiendo basura.
Aunque la historia de los protagonistas es ficticia, todos los detalles que aporta sobre el lugar, la metodología de trabajo o algunos de los sucesos son reales.
Aunque la historia de los protagonistas es ficticia, todos los detalles que aporta sobre el lugar, la metodología de trabajo o algunos de los sucesos son reales.
Read
August 2, 2019Five stars … Readers expecting this novel to develop into a savage take on Seoul slum life will be disappointed … [Hwang Sok-Yong] wants to tell a different story altogether. Familiar Things turns out to be less about simple disposal than movement between different worlds … resonant.
The Daily Telegraph
Hwang Sok-yong is one of South Korea's foremost writers, a powerful voice for society's marginalised, and Sora Kim-Russell's translations never falter.
Deborah Smith, Translator of The Vegetarian
A powerful examination of capitalism from one of South Korea’s most acclaimed authors … [Hwang] challenges us to look back and reevaluate the cost of modernisation, and see what and whom we have left behind.
The Guardian
Undoubtedly the most powerful voice in Asia today.
Kenzaburo Oe, Winner of the Novel Prize for Literature
[A] vivid depiction of a city too quick to throw away both possessions and people.
Financial Times
Sora Kim-Russell’s translation moves gracefully between gritty, whiffy realism and folk-tale spookiness.
The Economist
In Familiar Things, the great Korean writer embraces the social realities of his country. It is the opposite of the economic miracle that he paints for us here. Beyond simple naturalism, Hwang Sok-yong mixes into the actual, the magic of a popular culture steeped in the spiritual.
Livreshedbo
A great political book, a plea for a country under the boot of a general, a country embroiled in a fierce power struggle, where ideology has been devoured by productivity, where human beings are nothing more than bellies to be filled for the benefit of industrial producers ... Grandma Willow in her dementia rails, “You're despicable! Do you think you live alone here? You men may all disappear, nature will continue to exist!” Let's hope so!
Critiques Libres
Hwang Sok-yong is one of the most read Korean writers in his country, and best known abroad. An activist for democracy and reconciliation with the North, in his books he melds his political fights with the Korean cultural imagination.
Le Monde
Familiar Things is a poignant novel that depicts decay and regeneration … A sense of menace pervades the novel. But the relationship that develops between Bugeye and Baldspot, who he comes to adopt as his younger brother, is heartwarming.
The Big Issue
Hwang Sok-yong is an endearing author. For his perspective on people and things, for the instinctive modesty of his characters as well as his ability to “capture” — to return through fiction — the contemporary history of his country. Even more, to embody it.
La Croix
Reality, fiction and fantasy mix closely, giving his writing unparalleled power. Hwang Sok-yong’s empathy for his heroes is always accompanied by a fierce rage against the powerful.
Le Monde Diplomatique
While it invokes South Korean history, culture, mythology and folklore, this slim novel is unmistakably universal in its reach, contemporary in its appeal, and packs an emotional punch that reverberates long after reading.
South China Morning Post
Familiar Things is both tragic and heartrending.
The Skinny
Galvanized by Nobel Prize-winner Kenzaburo Oe’s resounding endorsement—‘undoubtedly the most powerful voice in Asia today’—and master translator Sora Kim Russell’s exquisite rendition, Hwang’s latest anglophonic import is surely poised for western success.
Terry Hong, Booklist
As one of the country’s most prominent novelists, Hwang has never shied away from controversy ... With Familiar Things, Hwang turns his attention to the underside of South Korea’s remarkable economic development, namely, the vast underclass it has created.
John Feffer, Boston Review
Hwang’s writing is rich with symbolism, cautionary lessons, and the potential for redemption.
World Literature Day
[A] cautionary tale, both a mirror and a portent for our own world.
Fionn Mallon, Los Angeles Review of Books
Familiar Things walks a perfect path between realism and the supernatural.
Annie Smith, A Bookish Type
Familiar Things is a fine little novel, showing a crushing, grim reality in which the resilient human spirit and imagination makes do.
M.A.Orthofer, The Complete Review
[A] quick read with a gut punch at the end. Folklore meets tragic existence.
Lolly Dandeneau, Edelweiss
An absolute delight.
Sarah-Hope Parmeter, Edelweiss
In the tradition of social realism, Familiar Things reveals aspects of our current throw-away system that are intentionally kept out of sight. But it is not only a Jungle-esque activist exposé. It is also an engaging coming-of-age portrait.
Emma Schneider, Full Stop
The Daily Telegraph
Hwang Sok-yong is one of South Korea's foremost writers, a powerful voice for society's marginalised, and Sora Kim-Russell's translations never falter.
Deborah Smith, Translator of The Vegetarian
A powerful examination of capitalism from one of South Korea’s most acclaimed authors … [Hwang] challenges us to look back and reevaluate the cost of modernisation, and see what and whom we have left behind.
The Guardian
Undoubtedly the most powerful voice in Asia today.
Kenzaburo Oe, Winner of the Novel Prize for Literature
[A] vivid depiction of a city too quick to throw away both possessions and people.
Financial Times
Sora Kim-Russell’s translation moves gracefully between gritty, whiffy realism and folk-tale spookiness.
The Economist
In Familiar Things, the great Korean writer embraces the social realities of his country. It is the opposite of the economic miracle that he paints for us here. Beyond simple naturalism, Hwang Sok-yong mixes into the actual, the magic of a popular culture steeped in the spiritual.
Livreshedbo
A great political book, a plea for a country under the boot of a general, a country embroiled in a fierce power struggle, where ideology has been devoured by productivity, where human beings are nothing more than bellies to be filled for the benefit of industrial producers ... Grandma Willow in her dementia rails, “You're despicable! Do you think you live alone here? You men may all disappear, nature will continue to exist!” Let's hope so!
Critiques Libres
Hwang Sok-yong is one of the most read Korean writers in his country, and best known abroad. An activist for democracy and reconciliation with the North, in his books he melds his political fights with the Korean cultural imagination.
Le Monde
Familiar Things is a poignant novel that depicts decay and regeneration … A sense of menace pervades the novel. But the relationship that develops between Bugeye and Baldspot, who he comes to adopt as his younger brother, is heartwarming.
The Big Issue
Hwang Sok-yong is an endearing author. For his perspective on people and things, for the instinctive modesty of his characters as well as his ability to “capture” — to return through fiction — the contemporary history of his country. Even more, to embody it.
La Croix
Reality, fiction and fantasy mix closely, giving his writing unparalleled power. Hwang Sok-yong’s empathy for his heroes is always accompanied by a fierce rage against the powerful.
Le Monde Diplomatique
While it invokes South Korean history, culture, mythology and folklore, this slim novel is unmistakably universal in its reach, contemporary in its appeal, and packs an emotional punch that reverberates long after reading.
South China Morning Post
Familiar Things is both tragic and heartrending.
The Skinny
Galvanized by Nobel Prize-winner Kenzaburo Oe’s resounding endorsement—‘undoubtedly the most powerful voice in Asia today’—and master translator Sora Kim Russell’s exquisite rendition, Hwang’s latest anglophonic import is surely poised for western success.
Terry Hong, Booklist
As one of the country’s most prominent novelists, Hwang has never shied away from controversy ... With Familiar Things, Hwang turns his attention to the underside of South Korea’s remarkable economic development, namely, the vast underclass it has created.
John Feffer, Boston Review
Hwang’s writing is rich with symbolism, cautionary lessons, and the potential for redemption.
World Literature Day
[A] cautionary tale, both a mirror and a portent for our own world.
Fionn Mallon, Los Angeles Review of Books
Familiar Things walks a perfect path between realism and the supernatural.
Annie Smith, A Bookish Type
Familiar Things is a fine little novel, showing a crushing, grim reality in which the resilient human spirit and imagination makes do.
M.A.Orthofer, The Complete Review
[A] quick read with a gut punch at the end. Folklore meets tragic existence.
Lolly Dandeneau, Edelweiss
An absolute delight.
Sarah-Hope Parmeter, Edelweiss
In the tradition of social realism, Familiar Things reveals aspects of our current throw-away system that are intentionally kept out of sight. But it is not only a Jungle-esque activist exposé. It is also an engaging coming-of-age portrait.
Emma Schneider, Full Stop
June 20, 2021
...this land had no number and no address, and everyone and everything there was of no use to anyone.
The story revealed the dark side of Seoul where most people overlooked or often ignored. A slum neighbourhood in a developed nation.
Bugeye and his mother moved to a shantytown of Flower Island, where adults and children worked as garbage collectors, searching for recyclable or reusable items at a dumpsite. With the Baron and his son, Baldspot, the four of them became an instant family. Baldspot introduced the older Bugeye to his secret little world while in return, being looked over by his hyung.
Overall, the book has a rather monotonous plot, with some events happening from the middle of the book towards the end. The ties between Baldspot and Bugeye and their moments together were sweet, because they had no one else but each other. I wish they had happy endings at the end of the book.
People bought things with money, did whatever they wanted with those things, and threw them away when they were no longer of use. Maybe folks like him had also been thrown away when they were no longer of use.
Actual rating: 3.5
The story revealed the dark side of Seoul where most people overlooked or often ignored. A slum neighbourhood in a developed nation.
Bugeye and his mother moved to a shantytown of Flower Island, where adults and children worked as garbage collectors, searching for recyclable or reusable items at a dumpsite. With the Baron and his son, Baldspot, the four of them became an instant family. Baldspot introduced the older Bugeye to his secret little world while in return, being looked over by his hyung.
Overall, the book has a rather monotonous plot, with some events happening from the middle of the book towards the end. The ties between Baldspot and Bugeye and their moments together were sweet, because they had no one else but each other. I wish they had happy endings at the end of the book.
People bought things with money, did whatever they wanted with those things, and threw them away when they were no longer of use. Maybe folks like him had also been thrown away when they were no longer of use.
Actual rating: 3.5
May 26, 2017
From the way Hwang Sok-yong imbues Bugeye’s arrival at a landfill site with wonderment and promise, I knew early on that Familiar Things would be thought provoking. But it is his juxtaposition of opportunity with the harsh reality of his character’s circumstances that leaves a lasting impression.
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May 31, 2021
Hwang Sok Yong è senza ombra di dubbio uno degli autori più importanti della storia della letteratura coreana contemporanea.
la vita di Hwang Sok Yong è una combinazione delle sue opere, perché in ogni suo libro c'è una parte di lui e del suo vissuto. È uno scrittore decisamente politico con una penna affilatissima che gli è costata anche la prigione in anni in cui avere una voce potente come la sua era considerato sovversivo.
Ha vissuto la guerra, subendola come nel caso della guerra di Corea, o in prima persona costretto a partecipare alla guerra del Vietnam. Ha vissuto gli anni del boom economico, gli '80 sudcoreani della repressione con i giorni terribili del massacro di Gwangju e le rivolte per la conquista della democrazia.
Tutti questo in un modo o nell'altro è sempre presente nel sue opere che sono un riflesso lucido e crudo della società.
"tutte le cose della nostra vita" non è da meno e anche se non viene specificato luogo e tempo, è evidente stia parlando della Seoul della post industrializzazione. Un periodo che creò una notevole crescita economica del paese, ma anche un grande divario tra classi sociali, sottolineandone la stratificazione. La classe media quasi scomparve, i ricchi erano decisamente ricchi e i poveri decisamente poveri. Il benessere e il consumismo della classe benestante si contrappone alla moltitudine di persone che vivono ai margini della società.
Isola fiorita è il nome (certamente provocatorio), di una discarica in periferia, in cui anime disperate sopravvivono lavorando con gli scarti della ricchezza, portandone il fetore addosso.
È una discarica organizzata, con una gerarchia e dei turni in cui tutti hanno un ruolo, dagli anziani ai bambini, nessuno escluso. attorno alla discarica una schiera di baracche costruite di scarti e rifiuti. La vita al di fuori del lavoro alla discarica è in balia degli eventi, i bambini non vanno a scuola se non per avere in cambio qualcosa e una confezione di Ramyeon scaduta più essere motivo di rissa.
Sembra quasi un mondo sospeso, in cui neanche i nomi hanno più un significato e così tutti hanno un soprannome che li contraddistingue come i due bambini protagonisti, Pelatino e Occhiapalla.
L'autore usa moltissime metafore e simbolismi (come le lucine blu) per accendere diversi punti di riflessione sullo scorrere del tempo e su come tutto si ripeta: comprare, buttare, ricomprare e poi tutto rinasce e ricomincia e quello che siamo stati, anche in un luogo senza tempo come Isola Fiorita, rimane sulla montagna di rifiuti che quotidianamente ci passano per le mani.
Tutto questo Hwang Sok Yong ce lo restituisce tramite le vite di due ragazzini che vivono sugli scarti di altre vite.
Una lettura incisiva e davvero molto significativa.
la vita di Hwang Sok Yong è una combinazione delle sue opere, perché in ogni suo libro c'è una parte di lui e del suo vissuto. È uno scrittore decisamente politico con una penna affilatissima che gli è costata anche la prigione in anni in cui avere una voce potente come la sua era considerato sovversivo.
Ha vissuto la guerra, subendola come nel caso della guerra di Corea, o in prima persona costretto a partecipare alla guerra del Vietnam. Ha vissuto gli anni del boom economico, gli '80 sudcoreani della repressione con i giorni terribili del massacro di Gwangju e le rivolte per la conquista della democrazia.
Tutti questo in un modo o nell'altro è sempre presente nel sue opere che sono un riflesso lucido e crudo della società.
"tutte le cose della nostra vita" non è da meno e anche se non viene specificato luogo e tempo, è evidente stia parlando della Seoul della post industrializzazione. Un periodo che creò una notevole crescita economica del paese, ma anche un grande divario tra classi sociali, sottolineandone la stratificazione. La classe media quasi scomparve, i ricchi erano decisamente ricchi e i poveri decisamente poveri. Il benessere e il consumismo della classe benestante si contrappone alla moltitudine di persone che vivono ai margini della società.
Isola fiorita è il nome (certamente provocatorio), di una discarica in periferia, in cui anime disperate sopravvivono lavorando con gli scarti della ricchezza, portandone il fetore addosso.
È una discarica organizzata, con una gerarchia e dei turni in cui tutti hanno un ruolo, dagli anziani ai bambini, nessuno escluso. attorno alla discarica una schiera di baracche costruite di scarti e rifiuti. La vita al di fuori del lavoro alla discarica è in balia degli eventi, i bambini non vanno a scuola se non per avere in cambio qualcosa e una confezione di Ramyeon scaduta più essere motivo di rissa.
Sembra quasi un mondo sospeso, in cui neanche i nomi hanno più un significato e così tutti hanno un soprannome che li contraddistingue come i due bambini protagonisti, Pelatino e Occhiapalla.
L'autore usa moltissime metafore e simbolismi (come le lucine blu) per accendere diversi punti di riflessione sullo scorrere del tempo e su come tutto si ripeta: comprare, buttare, ricomprare e poi tutto rinasce e ricomincia e quello che siamo stati, anche in un luogo senza tempo come Isola Fiorita, rimane sulla montagna di rifiuti che quotidianamente ci passano per le mani.
Tutto questo Hwang Sok Yong ce lo restituisce tramite le vite di due ragazzini che vivono sugli scarti di altre vite.
Una lettura incisiva e davvero molto significativa.
February 20, 2023
Despite the title of this book I had expected it to be very different from anything European that I had ever read. However, it wasn't - the problems facing Bugeye, his mother and his little 'brother' were in fact very familiar (poverty, senseless consumerism and a feeling of impending doom) and the sprinkling of magic in the realism (in this case that of the filthy tip) has also become a feature of much fiction nowadays. If you are looking for an easy and entertaining read, I would recommend this little novel - it has certainly made me consider reading more from Korea, should I ever get round to it.
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