For some it was a grand statement. The sight of United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres walking solemnly through the bombed-out suburbs of Kyiv: inspecting the rubble, listening to stories of massacre, and shaking his fist at accountability for the “evil” acts. In the opening days of the conflict in Ukraine…

This is something of a departure for Hwang Sok-yong, a pre-departure. Ordinarily he writes to a theme, to what he knows, to what he can twirl and dance and seduce into a form of romance and remembrance. An old socialist with weeping scars and a few large stories, Hwang’s work…

Mansu is hiding! Hiding and worrying about the “missiles”, the “soldiers”, their “colossal firepower”, and the “two or three hundred million dollars” that they are willing to spend just to kill him. Burrowing his way into the undergrowth of Mt. …

It is one of those novels that starts with firm, knowing statements about past and future. Short, blunted sentences that stand outside the ordinary prose. “Three days remain.”, “The chair is absolutely useless.”, “In the spring of 1953, the war was still on.” …

“Father’s death itself was hearsay” writes Yi Mun-yol, “and it was only then that I felt the need to meet my brother.” Korea is a country of eldest sons. The inheritors not of prestige and bloodlines, but of unpleasant, agonising responsibility. Well beyond the natural burdens of raising younger siblings…

Off the southern coast of Korea lies Jeju, a chubby little island of volcanos, seafood, and women. Still deep in their traditional lives, these woman are the men of their families — earning all the money, bringing home all of the food, and moaning loudly to each other about their…

“He was not an ordinary man” goes the story, “in addition to a handsome, manly face and stalwart, he possessed a bright, quick mind, and was naturally clever. A more dutiful son could not be found.” And just what counts as dutiful in this day and age? Obsessing over your…

All good stories of a certain age start this way, with disappointment… and a sudden, swollen belly — a “warmhearted” husband, a barren wife, and the “pity” of “heaven”. This is Korea, so things twist early with shamanistic intent. A single flower floats purposefully towards our wife, Mrs. Chang. As…

Dwarfs are uncomfortable little creatures. Nothing fits the way it ought to and everything has a life of its own; no dexterity, no coordination between limbs. A Frankenstein of disproportionate body parts, nerves, bones, muscles, ligaments, tendons, and sinew, all dancing out of tune to impossible, foreign, music. “Before the…