Ch'oe Yun is a Korean author known for her breathtaking versatility, subversion of authority, and bold exploration of the inner life. Readers celebrate her creative play with fantasy and admire her deep engagement with trauma, history, and the vagaries of remembrance.
In this collection's title work, There a Petal Silently Falls, Ch'oe explores both the genesis and the aftershocks of historical outrages such as the Kwangju Massacre of 1980, in which a reported 2,000 civilians were killed for protesting government military rule. The novella follows the wanderings of a girl traumatized by her mother's murder and strikes home the injustice of state-sanctioned violence against men and especially women. "Whisper Yet" illuminates the harsh treatment of leftist intellectuals during the years of national division, at the same time offering the hope of reconciliation between ideological enemies. The third story, "The Thirteen-Scent Flower," satirizes consumerism and academic rivalries by focusing on a young man and woman who engender an exotic flower that is coveted far and wide for its various fragrances.
Elegantly crafted and quietly moving, Ch'oe Yun's stories are among the most incisive portrayals of the psychological and spiritual reality of post-World War II Korea. Her fiction, which began to appear in the late 1980s, represents a turn toward a more experimental, deconstructionist, and postmodern Korean style of writing, and offers a new focus on the role of gender in the making of Korean history.
Ch'oe Hyon-mu (born 1953), better known by her pen name Ch'oe Yun (This is the author's preferred Romanization per LTI Korea) is a South Korean writer and professor of French literature.
Ch'oe's works are varied, but typically founded in particular political contexts. The Gray Snowman is told by a young woman on the edges of the 1980s’ dissident movement, and Father’s Surveillance and A Voiceless Window show the pain of families split by the Korean War and the sundering of the nation. Ch'oe, however, keeps her lens firmly fixed on the interior lives of her characters, even as they are stuck in the larger web of history. Ch'oe's narrative style, following the twisted inner world of her characters, is often non-realist. Ch'oe frequently uses memory as one of her themes, but refuses to indulge in appeals to cheap sentiment.
Many of her works, including There a Petal Silently Falls (1988), Gray Snowman (1991), and Whispers (1993), are semi-autobiographical depictions of the events surrounding the Kwangju Uprising. Her 1994 work The Last of Hanako won the Yi Sang Literary Award.
THERE A PETAL SILENTLY FALLS (first published in 1992) includes three bewitching novellas from Korean writer Ch'oe Yun.
The title story is a harrowing narrative of trauma and descent into madness inspired by the horrific Kwangju massacre of May 1980. The protagonist is a girl whose mother was killed in the massacre. It is very likely that the girl is unwittingly or partially responsible for her mother's murder. The terrified girl abandons her dying mother and is plagued by guilt, confusion and terror. She walks and walks and walks, trying to escape the horror and guilt. Some college students try to locate her after she went missing but she becomes an elusive figure. The story is told from the perspective of the girl, her abuser, and the group of college students (who are friends of the girl’s dead brother) who are attempting to find her. The multiple narrators use a fractured language and story-telling, particularly from the girl's point of view, which is perfect for the representation of trauma and the unspeakable. This is a truly accomplished story.
"Whisper Yet" is a very moving story of a fugitive Communist who shelters in the household of refugees from North Korea. Due to his fugitive status he is separated from his family. The story is based on a shared desire (or fantasy) among South Koreans who seemed to believe that North and South could open a unification dialogue predicated upon the idea of “one nation,” “one language,” and “shared blood”. It is a story about estrangement and the unresolved relationship between the two Koreas.
"The Thirteen-Scent Flower" is like a sad fable which features two delightful, innocent characters which are driven out of the lovely world they created through hard work by the greed of meddling, insensitive, boorish businessmen and academics. The story depicts some ugly aspects of a voracious capitalistic society and its destruction of beauty.
I hope more of the author's work is translated into English. She's a wonderful writer!
Ch’oe Yun wrote her debut collection of three novellas “There a Petal Silently Falls” at the age of 40 and soon after became recognised as one of the most important and influential South Korean authors. I am not surprised as these stories are spellbinding. The title first one, exploring the violence of the Gwangju Uprising and the resulting trauma, and told from three perspectives, is a very mature, heart-wrenching piece of literature. Having recently read “Human Acts” by Han Kang I cannot shake off the feeling that Han Kang must have been strongly influenced by Ch’oe Yun. “Whisper Yet” is a gorgeously, poetically written story about a leftist intellectual tending to an apple orchard. “The Thirteen-Scent Flower” tells a deeply moving story of a couple creating a new kind of chrysanthemum with unique scents, thus developing an unhealthy demand for it and the competition among academics to write papers about the flower.
Ch’oe’s stories, always with a political background, are also sharp commentaries and criticisms on Korean patriarchal society (though I read only these stories and can’t yet tell whether her writing could be called ‘feminist’), consumerism, fragile social fabric and the difficulty of developing intimacy and trust between people. She never fails to highlight the pressure existing in the Korean society to not stand out, yet it is clear, knowing a little about the political turmoil of the second half of the 20th century, that a lot of people stood out against their will. What enchants me so much in her writing is the tenderness she feels towards her characters and the gentleness with which she creates their personae, which reminds me a bit of the style of Kyung-sook Shin. Reading this collection, however, I was thinking more in cinematic terms. The topics of violence, broken human relationships, and the notion of a moral compass brought films by Lee Chang-dong to mind, especially when it comes to the lyricism of the way the stories are told.
I understand well why Ch’oe Yun is so revered and I wish more of her books were translated into English.
“For #KoreaBookClub this week, we discuss 'There a Petal Silently Falls' (#저기소리없이한점꽃잎이지고) by Ch'oe Yun (#최윤), originally published in 1988. @barrypwelsh tells us more about this powerful exploration of the trauma left after the Gwangju Uprising. #한국문학 #책추천”
The first story is the strongest, a bit difficult to grasp at the beginning, especially when you are not aware of the events it is based on (student manifestations in South Korea severely repressed by the military still in power, lots of victims). Very poetic to describe horrible events, which creates all the more sense of drama.
Excellent roman sur le trauma, ici suite aux évènements de Gwanju en 1980, durant lesquels des manifestations pro démocratie ont été mortellement réprimées par l’armée.
Comment dire l’indicible ? Comment vivre après avoir vu ses proches mourir et, par extension, s’être vu mourir soi-même ? L’autrice ne donne pas de réponse mais elle retranscrit avec beaucoup de justesse ces conflits internes, pourtant si délicats à raconter, qui affligent les survivants souffrant de stress post-traumatique.
C’est très bien écrit. La plume de Ch’oe Yun a quelque chose d’incisif et de poétique à la fois qui m’a beaucoup touchée. A propos de son héroïne, elle écrit : « celle qui s'est fanée dans l'ombre, à force d'espérer le soleil. » En voici un autre extrait :
« Un visage prématurément vieilli par quelque chose de trop immense et trop profond pour que son jeune âge puisse l’assumer, un visage qui se défaisait, avait fixé celui de Kim qui s’enfonçait alors dans un abîme sans fond, jusqu’alors obstrué. »
Translated by one of my former professors, Bruce Fulton, this book contains three novellas, each with its own distinct style. Each novella examines and in some cases critiques certain goings-on in Korean society -- "There a Petal Silently Falls" is a harrowing tale of a survivor of the Gwangju massacre, "Whisper Yet" is a narrative about a (formerly) North Korean family and their relationship with a South Korean communist sympathizer, and "The Thirteen Scent Flower" is essentially a tale about a young couple and their fight against capitalist agendas in Modern Korean society.
Obviously I have a certain amount of bias, but I feel that Dr. Fulton did a great job of making the stories come alive, while still preserving the author's voice and overall style. Obviously there is still an aspect of "Dr. Fulton" to it (which I can easily recognize, having read a lot of his works and having been mentored by him!), but it definitely does not overpower "Ch'oe Yun" in the stories. Again, each story has its own distinct style and feel, and at times it's hard to imagine that they were written by the same author!
I really enjoyed all three novellas, though there were times where things kind of dragged a bit (particularly in "The Thirteen Scent Flower"), but I would recommend it for Korean literature enthusiasts. If you're new to the genre, I'm not too sure if this will be your cup of tea, but it may surprise you.
This book was quite a dense read and I would recommend it if you are partial to long beautiful metaphors. Of the three short stories, I liked Whisper Yet the best. The mother and daughter dynamic interspersed with the story of Ajebi was really interesting. As Choe uses extended metaphor, much of the background information is unexplained and a knowledge of modern korean history is needed to fully comprehend the intentions behind the works. Overall I really enjoyed this book and look forward to reading the various stories in Korean.
I really enjoyed these stories. Choe Yun is a lyrical and inventive writer, and each story in this volume is also a concise observation on the brutality, politics and commercialization of modern society. In this short book she experiments with several different narrative styles and modes of storytelling. I look forward to reading this again.
Actual rating: 3.75 This book is made up of three short stories. Among all, I like the first one (which takes the same name as the book's title) best. It was heartbreaking and I was absorbed in the story. I find the other two rather confusing, especially the last one. Regardless, the book is pretty enjoyable.
Read the first novella, "There a Petal Silently Falls," a deeply sad and haunting chronicle of how we react and remember trauma, specifically the 1980 Gwangju Uprising
Depuis ma plongée récente dans la tragique histoire contemporaine de la Corée, je suis à la recherche de texte évoquant ces drames. C’est ainsi qu’on m’a dirigée vers Ch’oe Yun, présenté comme une autrice marquante de la nouvelle génération, qui a obtenu des prix prestigieux dans son pays.
Je la découvre cependant avec Là-bas, sans bruit, tombe un pétale, un recueil de trois nouvelles, moi qui pensais que c’était un roman en trois parties dont les trames se rejoignaient… Or, ce sont trois beaux et poignants récits, forts et poétiques, mais sans lien aucun entre eux, si ce n’est le fait que ce soient tous des drames. Zut.
Je pensais aussi au vu de ce qu’on m’en avait dit, qu’il y avait un ancrage historique fort dans ces récits autour de la terrible répression qui a ensanglanté la ville de Kwangju en 1979. Or il n’y a aucun accompagnement pour le lecteur occidental permettant de faire le lien entre les récits qui sont faits et ce drame. Alors moi qui venait pour continuer à découvrir l’histoire de ce pays, je suis à nouveau déçue par ce manque de contextualisation criant. Une préface ou une postface, des notes du traducteur, que sais-je !, quelque chose aurait été nécessaire v.v
Pour autant, je n’ai pas boudé mon plaisir en lisant ces trois récits de vie aérien et pesant à la fois, rude et poétique, où l’on suit des jeunes gens marqués par l’histoire de leurs aînés : que ce soit un fils avec son père resté en Corée du Nord contrairement à lui, dans la première nouvelle ; une fille hantée par la mort de sa mère qui subit les pires drames, la faisant basculer dans la folie dans la nouvelle éponyme ; où une jeune travailleuse emportée par les activités rebelles de son employeur dans une imprimerie. Chacun est jeune mais heurté par les drames de sa famille, de sa communauté, de son pays. On sent quelque chose, sans pouvoir y mettre exactement le doigts dessus, tant l’autrice est fine, évanescente, se concentrant plus sur les impressions que les faits.
Cela donne de forts beaux récits à lire en dépit de ce manque de contexte, des récits réellement poignants où les émotions sont à fleur de peau. L’écriture notamment du viol subit dans la deuxième histoire est l’un des passages les plus »beaux » si on peut dire que j’ai lu sur le sujet. Et la conclusion du recueil même est un message lourd de sens pour le peuple coréen et nous les occidentaux qui ont regardé, laissé faire, mais cependant plein d’espoir et sans rancoeur.
»Ceux qui ont disparu en emportant une douleur laissent à ceux qui les connaissent une petite lumière, comme une cicatrice. »
Je pense donc que si on avait mieux accompagné ce texte, cela aurait pu être une lecture vraiment marquante, car à chaque fois la finesse d’écriture de l’autrice, la profondeur des sentiments des personnages sont là en peu de pages pourtant. Ch’oe Yun maîtrise très bien ce court format et donne une aura propre à chaque histoire. Elle fait oeuvre à la fois de poétesse et de témoin plein de pudeur et d’égard, ce qui est émouvant. Mais il manque l’étape d’après, la force, la puissance, pour ancrer ce récit et ne pas juste le laisser s’envoler après la lecture comme je le crains. C’est dommage. Il suffit d’un rien !
Erreur d’aiguillage que ma rencontre avec ce texte, pardon ces textes. Je voulais quelque chose d’ancré dans l’Histoire coréenne moderne, mais quelque chose d’accessible à un occidental. Ici, sans aucun accompagnement critique, ce n’est pas possible. Pour autant, j’ai apprécié la finesse à la fois aérienne et ancrée dans la terreur de l’autrice et sa pudeur vis-à-vis de ses personnages témoins d’une histoire passée toujours présente dans les coeurs et les corps de leurs parents et amis.
Also read this for my East Asian Literature class and couldn't put it down. I didn't know a lot about the Gwangju Massacre going in and I'm really curious about what my mom and grandfather have to say about this tragedy since my family is from Gwangju and my mom would have been about 12 years old at the time of the Park Chung-Hee presidental coup and student activist protests. The narration of the book itself was very interesting and the constantly switching polypekfeal perspective didn't connect with me until the end. very interesting to see the viewpoint of the man who abused her.
For example, the girl’s narrative contains a lot of ambiguity and stream of consciousness paragraphs, revealing the reasoning behind her seemingly random actions and her lack of memory due to the trauma she experienced watching her mother die in the Gwangju massacre. The girl also uses short sentences mimicking her ever present panic, which is supplemented by the other two descriptions of her external actions being strange and unreasonable.The friends of the brother speak with a collective sense of worry and their motives are more plain, creating a stabilized base of reasoning, which can also be analyzed and used to evaluate the objective “truth” of the story. The man’s perspective feels more furtive and guilty as he presents his narration sparingly and excludes the harsh description of the abuse he inflicts on the girl. It also isn’t clear until the brother’s friends reveal in the end that the man looks like the girl’s older brother, providing the missing clue as to why the girl followed him home. In this way, the perspectives aid each other in creating the whole story and showing the reactions and effects of the Gwangju massacre since the thoughts and actions of each of the characters differ.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.