Novelist Running Through Time

TL: KSD

The literature of today, regardless of East or West, is said to have been established on the altar of anthologies accumulated by our predecessors.

This is what is commonly referred to as the literary circle.

Though it sounds significant when put this way, in truth, the literary circle and the “literary industry” mean similar things.

However, those who work in this industry are people who are ‘very good at embellishing words,’ so the term has been nicely decorated.

Therefore, there is no terrifying power secretly dominating the literary world of this country from behind the scenes.

The literary circle is simply a term that collectively refers to ists, poets, critics, etc., people who make a living from writing.

But conversely, it could be said that the absence of a central authority to control all literati means that private bonds are strong.

These private bonds can sometimes be friendship, loyalty, gratitude, school connections, or affection.

Hence, it’s about righteousness and morality.

No one commands adherence to these, but perhaps for that very reason, those who protect the literary circle fiercely discern between righteousness and evil to preserve its correct meaning.

A representative example of ‘the guardians of the literary circle’ in Korea is Seo Woon-pil, who is a chief editor and CEO of one of the leading literary magazines, as well as a veteran ist and a famous literary critic.

Naturally, Seo Woon-pil was one of the key figures who ensured that no literary award would be given to Author Moon in this spring’s Annual Spring Literary Contest.

“…….”

Seo Woon-pil quietly stood in front of the window in the CEO’s office on the 7th floor, hands clasped behind his back.

It was a day with thunder and lightning. The wind howled ferociously as the storm raged on.

Someone’s face overlaid the pouring world; it was the reflection of Seo Woon-pil himself in the window.

Seo Woon-pil’s self-portrait, having aged so much unknowingly, was looking at himself with a gloomy expression.

“Is retribution coming…….”

Seo Woon-pil murmured quietly.

Shortly thereafter, there was loud revelry outside the CEO’s office.

-You, you cannot enter!

-Move aside.

It wouldn’t take long. He was not someone who could be stopped by ordinary inner strength.

Sure enough, the sound of the gaurds falling like leaves in the autumn wind could be heard.

The door burst open, and only when someone entered the CEO’s office and Seo Woon-pil felt their gaze did he slowly turn around to look at the intruder.

At that moment, lightning struck.

Flash, the thunderbolt that crossed the dark office momentarily illuminated the figure of the intruder.

A man in a brown modernized hanbok with a white beard,

A man who teaches as a hobby,

Park Chang-woon was staring at Seo Woon-pil with a gaze filled with murderous intent.

EP 5-A Love Story

“…….”

“…….”

The two supreme masters of the literary circle silently looked at each other. The glances exchanged between them condensed the content of the conversation that would unfold through time.

Since there was lightning, it was only natural that thunder would follow, shaking the entire building with a tremendous roar.

Boom.

After the sound of thunder passed, Park Chang-woon, who had been quietly staring at Seo Woon-pil, spoke.

“Was that you?”

Whoosh. The question flew like a dagger, fiercely embedding itself into Seo Woon-pil’s chest. Seo Woon-pil let out a small sigh.

“Hmm.”

Honor!

It was all to protect honor.

Whether it’s a major or minor literary magazine, it’s not about lacking money, but about maintaining dignity.

Conversely, selling dignity to make money was the business of ‘debut fees.’

Everyone knows it’s a shameful act. But what can be done? One must live.

The status between major and minor literary magazines is like heaven and earth, but the distance between them is not so great.

Countless times, elites from major literary magazines have moved to become editors of minor literary magazines.

From a broader perspective, those from major and minor literary magazines lived within the same fence.

For Seo Woon-pil, that fence was named the literary circle.

And as the leader of one of the leading literary magazines within that fence, Seo Woon-pil believed it was his duty to protect the honor of everyone living within it.

At least, that’s what he thought of himself.

That’s why he did what he did.

If someone who tarnished the honor of minor literary magazines receives a major literary award just because they write well, from the perspective of those living within this fence, it’s like giving an award to someone who has harmed the seniors and juniors of the literary world.

Not giving a literary award to someone who writes well.

I know it sounds ridiculous.

It goes against the principle of literature.

But it’s about chivalry.

That was Seo Woon-pil’s code of honor. What more could a man add to his defense of his own honor?

Thus, Seo Woon-pil responded to Park Chang-woon’s question like this:

“What’s the use of saying anything?”

Seo Woon-pil said nothing, but precisely because of that, his intention was fully conveyed to Park Chang-woon.

Park Chang-woon, who was about to draw his short sword, hesitated and frowned. He extended a hand of negotiation for the last time.

“Come on, think about it logically. What does that kid know? It’s all the bald guy’s doing behind the scenes. Why shouldn’t we give an award to a writer?”

Just as Seo Woon-pil has something to protect, Park Chang-woon also has something he must protect.

It’s the future of the Korean literary circle.

Park Chang-woon has watched helplessly as the literary circle he has devoted his life to gradually declined over decades.

To him, a writer is like a superman who appears on a white horse in the wilderness. An uneducated child is writing like Gu Hak-jun.

Why harm such a child? Better to nurture and help them build the future.

However, even though Park Chang-woon said, “The writer is still a kid. We need to protect him,” Seo Woon-pil only repeated the same answer as before.

“…What’s the use of saying anything?”

“…Ah, I see.”

The two old men looked at each other again.

Once they realized that each had different things to protect, no more words were needed.

Then, it’s time to show it through actions.

Park Chang-woon drew the bamboo flute he had hidden behind his back.

“Huh? A bamboo flute?”

“…”

“Su, sunbae, what are you trying to do now?”

Seo Woon-pil hurriedly picked up a 30cm ruler from his desk.

Soon, the madness of the man in the brown modernized hanbok overwhelmed Seo Woon-pil.

* * *

In the literary circle, where the strong survive and the weak perish, one’s rank is not determined by worldly authority.

Only by martial arts!

No, by literature!

The only way to truly impress these cranky, prideful beings, who live and die by art, is through pure literary power.

Thus, not only Seo Woon-pil, who leads the most powerful faction in this martial world.

But also Park Chang-woon, a hermit who once broke the inviolability of office to enter government service and then retired.

“What are you old folks doing acting like this!”

They were all like puppies wagging their tails in front of Grandmaster Gu Hak-jun, looking down and gauging his reaction.

Gu Hak-jun’s appearance was nothing short of a mess. He threw on a windbreaker over a stretched-out T-shirt, wore shorts, and his shoes were mismatched slippers.

When Seo Woon-pil’s subordinate employees urgently called Gu Hak-jun to break up the fight, he rushed out in slippers on this rainy day and took a taxi.

Naturally, he was completely drenched.

Yet, despite his shabby appearance, the inner strength of Gu Hak-jun, which has shaken not just the literary world but the entire globe, was pressing down on the two old men with an invisible force.

Eventually, Park Chang-woon was the first to concede.

“Ah, sorry…”

Gu Hak-jun’s glare focused on Seo Woon-pil.

However, Seo Woon-pil did not yield.

“What! That crazy old man came into someone’s company with a bamboo flute, and I’m supposed to apologize!”

Park Chang-woon interjects with a natural flair.

“Well, I might have brought the bamboo flute, but you’re the one who made me use it.”

“Well, sunbae! Why on earth did you bring that damn flute in the first place!”

“Don’t you know I also teach a traditional music club at school as a hobby?”

“Ah, so why did you bring it to my company!”

“I brought it to play it.”

“Stop talking nonsense!”

“Hey! What kind of language is that to a sunbae!”

“I don’t need a lecture from someone who got kicked out as a minister within a week for swearing in the National Assembly.”

“What…!”

Watching the two old men start their heated argument again, Gu Hak-jun sighed deeply.

“Sigh……”

Now, he didn’t even feel like making them reconcile. In fact, it wasn’t necessary. After a while, they’ll meet up to drink, play Go, chess, play PUBG together, and when they’re one short for a PUBG squad on KakaoTalk, they’ll hurry each other to log in. Then, the old men will leisurely stroll through the game world, chatting away, while Gu Hak-jun would struggle alone, shooting guns. It’s all too predictable now.

So, instead of breaking up the fight, Gu Hak-jun said this to Seo Woon-pil.

“Do you know Sang-hee, Seo sunbae?”

“Which Sang-hee? Park Sang-hee? Kim Sang-hee? Choi Sang-hee?”

“Choi Sang-hee, the journalist.”

“I’ve heard the name.”

“I’ve stopped Sang-hee from publicly condemning you, Seo sunbae.”

“…”

Seo Woon-pil and Park Chang-woon stopped fighting. The two old men returned to a serious demeanor and listened to Gu Hak-jun.

“You know…”

There’s something called Seoul dialect. It’s the way people from Seoul speak, the tone you’d hear in the news from the 70s and 80s.

Although Gu Hak-jun usually speaks in a manner similar to young people, being with his senior colleagues brought back the Seoul dialect he wasn’t even aware of slipping into.

“You sunbaes remember Choi Sang-hee, right? And the the guy who got in trouble with her, right? He hasn’t written a since then.”

“Hmm.”

“So, this time, she was going to publish an exclusive article saying that a literati author not receiving an award was due to the corruption in the literary world. Specifically targeting you, Seo sunbae.”

“…”

“But since she knows I’m close to you, Seo sunbae, he sought my understanding in advance, thinking this could blow up, so we went out for a drink.”

Park Chang-woon threw in a light jab at Seo Woon pil, whose expression darkened rapidly.

“How can you ask a married woman out for a drink?”

“Heh. I’m also close to Sang-hee’s husband. I even helped him with his debut. So, I took the liberty of bringing a bottle of expensive liquor to their house.”

“Well, still…”

Before Seo Woon-pil could feel more miserable upon realizing Park Chang-woon was making up excuses for him, he steered the conversation towards a conclusion.

“Okay. I get it. I was wrong.”

“No, sunbae. I wasn’t looking for an apology…”

“Both Moon In and Choi Sang-hee, I’ll go and settle things cleanly with them. It doesn’t seem right to let this drag on any longer.”

“You’ve made a good decision, sunbae.”

“Where does Choi Sang-hee work? JoongAng? Hankyoreh?”

“Baekhak.”

“Okay. I’ll sort things out with Choi Sang-hee there. How should I approach Moon In?”

Park Chang-woon stepped in and patted Seo Woon-pil on the shoulder.

It was to console Seo Woon-pil, who couldn’t use even a fraction of his power under Gu Hak-jun’s formidable pressure and was subdued.

“Come on, it’s fine. Are you really going to bow your head to a middle school kid? He’s not that narrow-minded. Just don’t bully him from next year on.”

“I still should meet and greet him.”

“Then, well, come give a lecture at Baekhak Arts Middle School or something.”

“Yes. I’ll go as soon as I have time.”

“I’ll bring Lim Yang-wook along too. If you’ve caused trouble, you should clean it up, right? If they had just circulated an apology letter or something, our Woon-pil wouldn’t have been so upset.”

“No, the apology should come from me. But I would appreciate it if you could arrange a meeting with Department Head Lim Yang-wook. It’s an industry we’ll be seeing each other in for a long time, so it’d be good to get acquainted.”

The strength and weakness of the literary world is that important matters are influenced by personal relationships, and fortunately, this time, that aspect worked to their advantage.

Park Chang-woon and Gu Hak-jun warned Seo Woon-pil that continually sacrificing others to protect his own people could someday lead to a knife at his throat, and Seo Woon-pil, swallowing his pride, accepted their advice.

Consequently, Park Chang-woon promised that Seo Woon-pil would apologize to Moon In, and Lim Yang-wook would apologize to Seo Woon-pil, settling the matter.

Thus, the potential bloodshed within the literary circle was amicably resolved through the elders’ duel and negotiation.

If only Moon In hadn’t been nominated for the Booker Prize…

* * *

The founding ideology of the country known as South Korea was closer to nationalism than democracy.

An entire nation groaned under the military boots of a foreign power (the Empire of Japan) and finally broke free to reclaim its freedom.

Of course, immediately after independence, the country went through a civil war due to the invasion by the communists, becoming anti-communist-nationalist,

Anyway, such ideology has been the dominating principle of this country for decades.

The traces of it still exist today. It’s the fervent obsession towards the globally sweeping K-content.

Almost every Korean has a basal condition where seeing a Korean being admired worldwide raises their blood pressure, reddens their face, and improves their mood.

For that very reason, the literary magazine building operated by Seo Woon-pil was surrounded by journalists.

The ‘A Love Story’ was now a K-Love Story.

Even more so, the adversary was Japan.

And the written by Moon In involved a freedom fighter beating up communists and the Empire of Japan.

It even got adapted into a movie that swept the world.

What followed was predictable.

“Author Moon! I’m Kim Myung-jung from BMB!”

“Is it true that A Love Story is a sequel to Red Hunter?!”

“Could we have a word on your nomination for the Booker International Prize?!”

The entire country’s attention was focused on one person.

*****

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