Two novels to understand Korea’s political turmoil

On Tuesday night, South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol imposed martial law across the country for six hours. He retracted his declaration only after the National Assembly passed an emergency resolution ordering him to back down. As of this writing, the Assembly has drafted but failed to vote on articles of impeachment. Instead, Yoon’s party has announced a plan for the president’s “orderly resignation.” Many details remain up in the air.

As an American, it is not my place to take sides or say what Korea should do next; I can only observe and interpret. With that as my goal, I would like to discuss two novels that may supply context to the current political situation.

First, to understand the images that Koreans associate with “martial law,” we must discuss Han Kang’s 2014 novel Human Acts (한강, «소년이 온다»), which is available in an English translation by Deborah Smith. The novel portrays 1980’s 5/18 movement and the ensuing government crackdown in which public officials killed, sexually assaulted, arrested, and tortured pro-democracy activists in Gwangju on false charges of communist sympathy—crimes that the Korean government has since acknowledged.1 As Friday’s New York Times explains (paywall), Han Kang’s recent Nobel Prize offered a moment of catharsis and vindication for victims of the 1980 incident; the recent turmoil has cut short their celebration.

Next is 28 by Jeong You Jeong (정유정). Set in Hwayang, a fictional city on the outskirts of Seoul, this 2013 novel imagines the outbreak of a highly infectious disease transmitted between humans and dogs. Once the Korean government grasps the infection’s contagiousness and lethality, the president imposes a swift military blockade on the city. Within, anarchy prevails. As the citizens of Hwayang clash with the occupying troops, 28 makes transparent reference to the crimes of 5/18, but pushes further to ask how martial law would unfold with modern technology and social media. Jeong also raises difficult questions about the transactional relationship between humans and animals. (And, because it is a Jeong You Jeong novel, there is a serial killer running around.) It looks like Chi-Young Kim translated this novel into English at the Literature Translation Institute of Korea, but all I can find is an excerpt.

These modern novels remind us that in Korea, the concept of authoritarian rule is more than a rhetorical foil, but a living memory than looms over public policy and civic life. At this moment, martial law is no longer in effect, President Yoon has apologized, and the democratically elected National Assembly controls the government. That means that Korea’s future is, for now, safely in the hands of its people.

  1. It took until 2018 for the Korean government to acknowledge that soldiers sexually assaulted civilians during the crackdown. 

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I recently transitioned this blog to self-host its fonts (IBM Plex Sans, Sans KR, and Mono) from within the GitHub Pages artifact instead of calling the Google Fonts API. This makes the site a little more “static” by eliminating the need for your browser to download font files from an external domain. Here, I explain how (and why) I self-host fonts without bringing them into the source tree.

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Media literacy chat at 88.9 Gwangju FM

I wanted to follow up on my previous post about the CLS alumni seminar in Gwangju to spotlight my favorite excursion of the week: our visit to the 88.9 Gwangju FM community radio station. Gwangju FM has no particular theme, but they dedicate part of their schedule each week to programming related to the Gwangju international community. When our group of twenty-five showed up, the staff divided us into five groups and gave us two hours each to produce a one-hour broadcast on a topic of our choice.

The task seemed impossible when the guide explained it to me (at work, we routinely spend weeks choreographing what amounts to a brief slideshow presentation), but the time pressure worked to our group’s advantage: all we could really do was create a list of discussion questions and songs to provide forward motion, then improvise from there. We ended up having a spirited discussion about media literacy and news consumption. (Email me if the link breaks and I will upload an MP3 instead.)

After our group disbanded in Gwangju, I got to spend a few days in Naju, my “second hometown” where I taught English for two years as a Fulbright grantee. I tried a new (to me) gomtang place called 나주곰탕사매기, which has a cool aquarium, a garden, and even birds! A few pics below.

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Gwangju again: CLS Media Literacy and Democracy seminar

I had the honor this week of participating in the first ever Critical Language Scholarship Alumni Seminar (archive.org mirror) at Chonnam National University in Gwangju, South Korea. The seminar focused on media literacy and democracy, and I can’t think of a better time or place to study the topic.

Koreans take their democracy very seriously, as evidenced by the high degree of civic participation (there is virtually always a protest going on in front of all the major government buildings in Seoul) and high voter turnout (77% in the 2022 presidential election). One reason is that Korea didn’t adopt a democratic constitution until 1987, which puts Korea’s long struggle against authoritarian rule well within living memory. The memory is especially fresh in Gwangju, the site of the 5/18 (1980) independence movement, in which hundreds of activists (many of them CNU students) lost their lives to state violence.

As we learned, throughout the 1980s, citizen journalists played a pivotal role in resisting media censorship and spreading the true narrative of 5/18 via informal publications; their contributions were arguably a key factor in the eventual success of the 1987 democracy movement. I was encouraged to hear from a panel of CNU student journalists about their efforts to document important issues in the community and carry forward CNU’s tradition of advocacy through journalism.

Our discussions during the seminar also reminded me of the important role that art plays in shaping the collective narratives that energize and sustain a democratic society. Today is another special moment in Gwangju’s history as the city celebrates the author Han Kang’s receipt of the Nobel Prize in Literature. Han Kang was born in Gwangju, and one of her novels, Human Acts (소년이 온다), memorializes the 5/18 independence movement. I have to add this book to the stack, as I have only read The Vegetarian (채식주의자), and only in translation. Our group also viewed, at the Gwangju Museum of Art, a pair of paintings by a then student activist, now senior citizen who began in retirement to paint scenes from the the 5/18 movement to preserve his memory and perspective. (Unfortunately, I can’t find this artist’s name on the website.) Such images create a relationship between the viewer and the events of 5/18 that rings “true” in a way that journalistic accounts cannot.

As for me: Participating in this seminar meant that I got to return to the exact institution where I did CLS in 2016—my first visit to Korea—with the added perspective of eight more years of Korean study and four years of living in the country. It was a delight to show the other participants around and see Korea again through the eyes of a newcomer.

During CLS in 2016, I was too shy to explore much of the city, but on this visit the only limiting factor was time. After the seminar, I took a day to walk all around the Asian Cultural Center, an endless arts complex. My highlight was Delivery Dancer’s Arc: Inverse, a massive video installation from the studio of science fiction creator Ayoung Kim (김아영). I also enjoyed the ACC’s library, which has a slick reference area with art magazines and comfy chairs.