The RAS Korean Literature Club discussion
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Blowfish
Kyung-ran Jo's short stories in English translation (available online and otherwise)
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Peter wrote: ":With this club's August 2025 book set to be
Blowfish
by Jo Kyung-ran (조경란), now is a good time to revisit her other work.
...
Jo Kyung-ran (b.1969) is an acclaimed Korean fiction writer. Notably, she has kept her leading status for nearly 25 years, from the early 2000s to the mid-2020s. She's just won a major literary prize (이상문학상, 2024, for a short-story collection titled "일러두기"; not available in English, but likely someone's already getting on that).
...
In her provocative, wrong-headed, brilliant and entertaining book, The Fall of Language in the Age of English (2008), adapted for international readers by the author and translated by Mari Yoshihara and Juliet Winters Carpenter (2015), Japanese academic and writer Minae Mizumura, says the following about the proliferation of literary awards in postwar Japan:
“Authors awarded newcomer prizes gained full recognition as writing professionals on winning the prestigious Akutagawa Prize; after that, by continuing to receive a succession of yet more important prizes, they went on to gain expert status. Literary awards proliferated until literally hundreds of them existed, covering every conceivable genre and age group. In time they spread a wide and tight-knit net over the country that generously awarded every literary talent, however slight.”
The Korean literary world is much smaller than the Japanese one, but is clearly modeled on it (which is not surprising given that it arose in the Colonial period), and this includes its love of awards. Clearer evidence of this can be seen in by looking up modern/contemporary Japanese and Korean authors in Wikipedia (any language version you want). You are almost guaranteed to see a section on awards listing out the individual awards by date, often running to 10, 20 or even more items. In fact the lists generally appear before the lists of published works and often appear to be more carefully compiled.
And speaking of proliferation of awards, there’s no easier way to do it than to take an award with an actual winner and through finalists/shortlists and even longlists, which people are free to count as awards (or at least something that can be counted as being “won”) in their own right. For the record only one Korean writer has ever actually won the International Booker Prize since its inception in 2016, and that is Han Kang, in 2016. And not entirely coincidentally, the only Korean writer to have actually won the Nobel Prize in literature since its inception in 1901 is also Hang Kan, in 2024.
Kyung-ran Jo’s 2010 novel Blowfish, tr. Chi-Young Kim (Astra House, 2025), which will be released in the US on Jul 15 (two days from now), did not show up on my radar screen until the current discussion in this group, but Peter’s reports of the attention it’s been getting in Korea indicated a well organized promotion campaign which I sense is not typical of the Korean publishing industry and its governmental underwriters. (I’m thinking in particular of the embarrassingly lame initial response to the Oct 10 announcement of Han Kang’s Nobel Prize win reported by visitors to the Korean pavilion at the Oct 16-20 2024 Frankfort Book Fair.) I got curious, and started by doing some googling. The first and most important thing I found out was that that the publication of Blowfish had been managed by the American literary agent Barbara Zitwer, who had been the main driving force behind publication of Korean literature in translation (and especially US publication of translation into English) for the last ten to fifteen years. And it seems like the publication of Blowfish was a long time in the making – she announced in a twitter sorry x post back in 2021 that she had inked a three book deal (I assume options) for Kyung-ran including Blowfish and, I think, two story collections.
On further googling I learned nominal publisher, Astra House, was a small but established US publisher, with at least one title I was familiar with (Sean Michaels, Do You Remember Being Born? (2023), and that they had a deal to with Penguin Random House to serve as US distributor for their publications.
Once I knew Barbara Zitwer was behind the publication and there the real deal, and thet they had a real (if small) publisher and distribution through PRH, I got curious and checked in with a few bookstores in my area Boston, MA) that regularly included Asian and other fiction in translation in their weekly new/just released offerings and found that all three of my favorite local independent bookstores each had two copies ready to sell, and my local university bookstore had one copy. The small numbers of copies may not earn them spaces on the new releases tables, but for what is effectively a first book I would say it’s getting really solid distribution.
BTW I also talked to a bookseller at a store in the largest brick and mortar bookstore chain in the US, Barnes & Noble, and she checked their computer, which seemed to give access to chain-wide inventory, and she did not see any copies queue for sale in their store or any other in the Northeast; but she did see a record of some number of copies “in a warehouse in New Jersey”, which raises the possibility that the distribution of the book into their network of stores is running late but my yet happen.
:
Craig, thanks for that find -- I was completely unaware of that story.
It looks like "The Story of a Ladle" is an excerpt only, published in the Literary Translation Institute of Korea (KLTI)'s magazine. (That magazine is now called Korean Literature Now; it was then then called List: Books from Korea). It appeared in the Autumn 2014 issue, pgs. 67-77.
As of now, this link works and story/excerpt can also be read, in printed-word form, here (see p.67 to start):
https://www.kln.or.kr/upload/volume/2...
The translator of "Story of a Ladle" is again Kari Schenck -- the same as the translator for "I Live in Boncheon-dong."
KLTI has the habit of publishing only excerpts of stories, giving ten pages rather than twenty-five or thirty that may be required. (A strange practice, if you ask me, given that most of these stories are generally not for sale anywhere.) Where is the full story? Does anyone have Kari Schenk's phone number?
Craig, thanks for that find -- I was completely unaware of that story.
It looks like "The Story of a Ladle" is an excerpt only, published in the Literary Translation Institute of Korea (KLTI)'s magazine. (That magazine is now called Korean Literature Now; it was then then called List: Books from Korea). It appeared in the Autumn 2014 issue, pgs. 67-77.
As of now, this link works and story/excerpt can also be read, in printed-word form, here (see p.67 to start):
https://www.kln.or.kr/upload/volume/2...
The translator of "Story of a Ladle" is again Kari Schenck -- the same as the translator for "I Live in Boncheon-dong."
KLTI has the habit of publishing only excerpts of stories, giving ten pages rather than twenty-five or thirty that may be required. (A strange practice, if you ask me, given that most of these stories are generally not for sale anywhere.) Where is the full story? Does anyone have Kari Schenk's phone number?
:
As for the marketing campaign on behalf of Blowfish:
It seems that ALL of Kyung-ran Jo's English-translation output dates from the five-or-so years, 2009 thru 2014 -- until suddenly this new one appears in 2025.
One fact would seem, to me, key to understanding what's going on:
I included the following under the August 2025 entry for this Club's book (see: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
_______
Note 2: The impetus to publish Blowfish in English translation (July 2025) may stem from Kyung-ran Jo's March 2024 winning of a top literary prize (이상문학상) (for a short-story collection, title: "일러두기" [2024]).
________
My guess: Within a few weeks at most of that late-March 2024 prize-announcement, the wheels were turning: "Let's get another Kyung-ran Jo book out in English." I don't know much about the publisher Astra House, or what degree (if any) of subsidy was involved.
Not unrelated:
I previously speculated that there is a bid here for a longlisting for the 2026 International Booker Prize.
When Kyung-ran Jo was most active (so to speak; when her books were being published in translation and getting attention), in the early 2010s, there was no International Booker (in the now-known form) yet...
As for the marketing campaign on behalf of Blowfish:
It seems that ALL of Kyung-ran Jo's English-translation output dates from the five-or-so years, 2009 thru 2014 -- until suddenly this new one appears in 2025.
One fact would seem, to me, key to understanding what's going on:
I included the following under the August 2025 entry for this Club's book (see: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
_______
Note 2: The impetus to publish Blowfish in English translation (July 2025) may stem from Kyung-ran Jo's March 2024 winning of a top literary prize (이상문학상) (for a short-story collection, title: "일러두기" [2024]).
________
My guess: Within a few weeks at most of that late-March 2024 prize-announcement, the wheels were turning: "Let's get another Kyung-ran Jo book out in English." I don't know much about the publisher Astra House, or what degree (if any) of subsidy was involved.
Not unrelated:
I previously speculated that there is a bid here for a longlisting for the 2026 International Booker Prize.
When Kyung-ran Jo was most active (so to speak; when her books were being published in translation and getting attention), in the early 2010s, there was no International Booker (in the now-known form) yet...
:
Interesting tie-in: ---- Kyung-Ran Jo's "Looking for the Elephant" story involves a central character's encounter with a certain poisonous fish (복어), the very same fish and the same scenario as in the later novel Blowfish (Korean title: <복어>).
"Looking for the Elephant" (코끼리를 찾아서) was first published in the winter 2001-02 issue of a Korean literary magazine. Then it appeared as the titular story in a May 2002 short-story collection by the author (still in original Korean).
Kyung-ran Jo used this same blowfish trope, or symbol/metaphor (?), therefore, almost ten years before Blowfish and it remained somehow a powerful image in her mind all that time, all through the 2000s (her thirties).
(I don't know the exact time of composition for "Elephant," but we do have that information for Blowfish from the Author's Note. Kyung-ran Jo specifies that she wrote Blowfish between autumn 2009 and spring 2010 (published September 2010). The most-likely year of composition for "Looking for the Elephant" must be 2001, making it at least an eight-year gap.)
The rest of the story --- "Elephant" was translated by Heinz Fenkl a few years after the 2002 book appeared; the English-translation version was published in a short-story collection Words Without Borders: The World Through the Eyes of Writers: An Anthology in March 2007, and helped solidify her reputation leading to several more English-translations in the 2009-2014 period.
Interesting tie-in: ---- Kyung-Ran Jo's "Looking for the Elephant" story involves a central character's encounter with a certain poisonous fish (복어), the very same fish and the same scenario as in the later novel Blowfish (Korean title: <복어>).
"Looking for the Elephant" (코끼리를 찾아서) was first published in the winter 2001-02 issue of a Korean literary magazine. Then it appeared as the titular story in a May 2002 short-story collection by the author (still in original Korean).
Kyung-ran Jo used this same blowfish trope, or symbol/metaphor (?), therefore, almost ten years before Blowfish and it remained somehow a powerful image in her mind all that time, all through the 2000s (her thirties).
(I don't know the exact time of composition for "Elephant," but we do have that information for Blowfish from the Author's Note. Kyung-ran Jo specifies that she wrote Blowfish between autumn 2009 and spring 2010 (published September 2010). The most-likely year of composition for "Looking for the Elephant" must be 2001, making it at least an eight-year gap.)
The rest of the story --- "Elephant" was translated by Heinz Fenkl a few years after the 2002 book appeared; the English-translation version was published in a short-story collection Words Without Borders: The World Through the Eyes of Writers: An Anthology in March 2007, and helped solidify her reputation leading to several more English-translations in the 2009-2014 period.
:
As for me, thinking about the "deadly blowfish" trope -- which Kyung-ran Jo has used at least twice (see one post above) -- it reminds me of a classic episode of The Simpsons.
The episode's title is "One Fish, Two Fish; Blowfish, Blue Fish"; original air-date, January 1991. The Simpson cast interacts with a Japanese restaurant that dealt in the deadly fish and comedic drama follows.
I must've seen that "Simpsons" episode several times, in my boyhood in the 1990s, on tv-reruns. I hardly remember the plot of that episode off-hand. The central conceit, though, I do remember: there is this ultra-dangerous fish, a delicacy but which needs to be cut with expert skill or it could kill.
As a boy, naturally, I picked up on no particular symbolism or what this might be a reference to. I had no way of knowing whether this was based in anything real or not, or the usual hype around Exotic Asian Stuff.
(Side-comment: when I've re-watched Simpson episodes as an adult, I often get a strange sensation: I remember what a teenage or pre-teenage version of me thought something meant; the older version of me realizes that reading or interpretation was wrong, and that it it's actually saying something else. This is a strange sensation, like little shocks to one's sense of reality, even though I am certain I am right as an adult. --- A lot of it is the phenomenon of a cultural "inter-textuality" which, for a boy, is just a blank canvas. A lot of cultural "source texts" I was exposed to first through references and allusions on The Simpsons.)
I am going to assume that Kyung-ran Jo, writing these dark stories in the 2000s, specifically included the blowfish as a central conceit or plot-point (and symbol, surely) with different aims or ideas in mind than those driving those Simpsons writers ca.1990.
.
As for me, thinking about the "deadly blowfish" trope -- which Kyung-ran Jo has used at least twice (see one post above) -- it reminds me of a classic episode of The Simpsons.
The episode's title is "One Fish, Two Fish; Blowfish, Blue Fish"; original air-date, January 1991. The Simpson cast interacts with a Japanese restaurant that dealt in the deadly fish and comedic drama follows.
I must've seen that "Simpsons" episode several times, in my boyhood in the 1990s, on tv-reruns. I hardly remember the plot of that episode off-hand. The central conceit, though, I do remember: there is this ultra-dangerous fish, a delicacy but which needs to be cut with expert skill or it could kill.
As a boy, naturally, I picked up on no particular symbolism or what this might be a reference to. I had no way of knowing whether this was based in anything real or not, or the usual hype around Exotic Asian Stuff.
(Side-comment: when I've re-watched Simpson episodes as an adult, I often get a strange sensation: I remember what a teenage or pre-teenage version of me thought something meant; the older version of me realizes that reading or interpretation was wrong, and that it it's actually saying something else. This is a strange sensation, like little shocks to one's sense of reality, even though I am certain I am right as an adult. --- A lot of it is the phenomenon of a cultural "inter-textuality" which, for a boy, is just a blank canvas. A lot of cultural "source texts" I was exposed to first through references and allusions on The Simpsons.)
I am going to assume that Kyung-ran Jo, writing these dark stories in the 2000s, specifically included the blowfish as a central conceit or plot-point (and symbol, surely) with different aims or ideas in mind than those driving those Simpsons writers ca.1990.
.
I know that strange sensation of realization too. it's like when I finally realized that Martin Luther King Jr was not actually Martin Luther's son. anyway it would be funny if the Blowfish author did in fact watch that episode of The Simpsons and was thus inspired to write the book. also I think I agree with you about the hype over East Asian things. I have felt there's a certain type of person who enjoys exotification of East Asian things and then uses the fact that they have personally experienced such things as a tool for grandiose self glorification! I actually got back in touch with a Korean American friend whom I knew in the 90s on Facebook and oddly he was so shocked that I at one point regularly ate blowfish as he had the presumably American point of view that it's a terribly dangerous even irresponsible thing to consume. too many, it's just a rather ordinary comfort food I used to eat with my former in-laws and having missed out on that Simpsons episode along with practically everything else of American Pop culture, I didn't realize it was such a notorious thing to eat until years later.
:
I'll have more to say shortly on "I Live in Bongcheon-dong." I secured a copy and read it.
It's worthwhile, but hard to find. I'd be glad to share it with anyone interested.
I'll have more to say shortly on "I Live in Bongcheon-dong." I secured a copy and read it.
It's worthwhile, but hard to find. I'd be glad to share it with anyone interested.
It will be interesting to hear what you have to say on 나는 봉천동에 산다 as I love reading book reviews. The title stands out to me as I've been to the actual place itself at least dozens of times --my son lived there when he was in middle school-- and I've probably been to more restaurants in that area than in any other area in Seoul. It is generous of you to offer to lend your books to us. As for borrowing books, I have developed a distinct fear of doing so. People may suddenly want them back and be angry at me (not that you would do that of course). Anyway do post your thoughts, the longer the better.
:
My review of "I Live in Bongcheon-dong":
Posted at this group's discussion-forum, here:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
And a few days ago, originally at its GR entry:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
(This club having read and discussed the story for its April 2014 session, consider this my eleven-years-belated contribution.)
.
My review of "I Live in Bongcheon-dong":
Posted at this group's discussion-forum, here:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
And a few days ago, originally at its GR entry:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
(This club having read and discussed the story for its April 2014 session, consider this my eleven-years-belated contribution.)
.
:
I've learned of another Kyung-ran Jo short-story published in English translation. I don't readily have a way to access it, however.
It is this:
----> "My Purple Sofa," by Kyung-ran Jo (translated by Theresa Joo), in Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture (University of Hawaii), Vol. 2 (2008); 18 pages (ca. 6500 words?)
The preview has the first 650 words, or 10%:
____________
MY PURPLE SOFA
by Kyung-ran Jo (2000)
Translated by Theresa Joo (2008)
I'm still not sure how that coat of mine caught fire in the first place. One thing you ought to know, though, that house I was invited to was unusually cold inside. While the others were drinking beer, reheating stir-fried octopus, frying more oyster and scallion cakes, and playing poker, I was practically hugging the kerosene heater in the middle of the living room. Since we are in a new year now, it must have happened at the end of last year.
I went all out trying to look my best, so I wore the black three season dress with the scooped neckline underneath the coat, and a velvet scarf to fill in the scoop—and that's all it took. It was a dinner get-together, and the couple who hosted it were the only people I recognized. The moment I took my coat off I felt goose bumps on my arms, and even where the scarf covered me. The husband draped a cardigan over my shoulders. Imagine: a worn-out brown cardigan with a black dress—they simply do not go together. And so the cardigan ended up over my knees and I made do the best I could. There were all sorts of people there—a man who sells china wholesale at Namdaemun, someone who's been a screenwriter for various theaters for years—oh, and even a lawyer, supposedly a fellow alumnus of the husband. I don't imagine I'll ever have the opportunity to meet those sorts of people again. What's more, all the guests were unmarried. Now you see why in spite of the bone chilling cold I didn't put on the cardigan.
It was past two when the party broke up. Some people said they were going to a karaoke bar, but I wasn't in the mood. Well, let's be honest; there was also the fact that I didn't get an invite from the wholesaler, the screenwriter, or the lawyer—nonetheless, I just wanted to go home and throw my frozen body on the heated floor. I do remember that I put on my coat, but before I slipped into my shoes to leave, I had to cozy up to the heater one last time. I've got a pretty sharp nose, and I can't believe I couldn't smell my coat burning. I said goodbye, went home, and fell asleep without washing my face.
It was 9:15 in the morning two days later when I discovered the burn marks. At the bottom of my coat there was a hole the size of a handkerchief. I had finished my breakfast and I was about to leave for the bank and the supermarket. I absolutely loved that coat—I guess that's why I still remember these details down to the exact minute. It's also the only winter coat I have, but the main thing is, the moment I saw that coat I was like, oh my god, this is so made for me. You know what I mean; coats, jeans, skirts. . . . Even without putting them on, you know they'll feel just right on you—it was like that for me with my coat. I rarely shop for clothes at the department store, but this coat—it's black, with a nylon and polyester weave—I snatched right off the hanger the minute I saw it. To pay so much for a single article of clothing—well, I guess there's a first time for everything. The coat was pinched in at the waist and wrapped me nice and snug all the way down to my ankles. Whenever I put it on and went out, I felt good about myself—I'm all skin and bones, you know. And sometimes, every once in a while, I even got complimented on how pretty I'd gotten! There are clothes like this that make a person look good, right? And this was the coat I managed to burn. You can imagine how bummed I was.
And now this coat.. [....]
______________
I've learned of another Kyung-ran Jo short-story published in English translation. I don't readily have a way to access it, however.
It is this:
----> "My Purple Sofa," by Kyung-ran Jo (translated by Theresa Joo), in Azalea: Journal of Korean Literature & Culture (University of Hawaii), Vol. 2 (2008); 18 pages (ca. 6500 words?)
The preview has the first 650 words, or 10%:
____________
MY PURPLE SOFA
by Kyung-ran Jo (2000)
Translated by Theresa Joo (2008)
I'm still not sure how that coat of mine caught fire in the first place. One thing you ought to know, though, that house I was invited to was unusually cold inside. While the others were drinking beer, reheating stir-fried octopus, frying more oyster and scallion cakes, and playing poker, I was practically hugging the kerosene heater in the middle of the living room. Since we are in a new year now, it must have happened at the end of last year.
I went all out trying to look my best, so I wore the black three season dress with the scooped neckline underneath the coat, and a velvet scarf to fill in the scoop—and that's all it took. It was a dinner get-together, and the couple who hosted it were the only people I recognized. The moment I took my coat off I felt goose bumps on my arms, and even where the scarf covered me. The husband draped a cardigan over my shoulders. Imagine: a worn-out brown cardigan with a black dress—they simply do not go together. And so the cardigan ended up over my knees and I made do the best I could. There were all sorts of people there—a man who sells china wholesale at Namdaemun, someone who's been a screenwriter for various theaters for years—oh, and even a lawyer, supposedly a fellow alumnus of the husband. I don't imagine I'll ever have the opportunity to meet those sorts of people again. What's more, all the guests were unmarried. Now you see why in spite of the bone chilling cold I didn't put on the cardigan.
It was past two when the party broke up. Some people said they were going to a karaoke bar, but I wasn't in the mood. Well, let's be honest; there was also the fact that I didn't get an invite from the wholesaler, the screenwriter, or the lawyer—nonetheless, I just wanted to go home and throw my frozen body on the heated floor. I do remember that I put on my coat, but before I slipped into my shoes to leave, I had to cozy up to the heater one last time. I've got a pretty sharp nose, and I can't believe I couldn't smell my coat burning. I said goodbye, went home, and fell asleep without washing my face.
It was 9:15 in the morning two days later when I discovered the burn marks. At the bottom of my coat there was a hole the size of a handkerchief. I had finished my breakfast and I was about to leave for the bank and the supermarket. I absolutely loved that coat—I guess that's why I still remember these details down to the exact minute. It's also the only winter coat I have, but the main thing is, the moment I saw that coat I was like, oh my god, this is so made for me. You know what I mean; coats, jeans, skirts. . . . Even without putting them on, you know they'll feel just right on you—it was like that for me with my coat. I rarely shop for clothes at the department store, but this coat—it's black, with a nylon and polyester weave—I snatched right off the hanger the minute I saw it. To pay so much for a single article of clothing—well, I guess there's a first time for everything. The coat was pinched in at the waist and wrapped me nice and snug all the way down to my ankles. Whenever I put it on and went out, I felt good about myself—I'm all skin and bones, you know. And sometimes, every once in a while, I even got complimented on how pretty I'd gotten! There are clothes like this that make a person look good, right? And this was the coat I managed to burn. You can imagine how bummed I was.
And now this coat.. [....]
______________
It's sad to burn one's coat. There was a guy at my church maybe two years ago who at that time always wore a beige coat around, but he also burned it on the back. Maybe he said on a space heater? That could be made into a story too!
You can watch Jo interviewed by fellow novelist Krys Lee in Seoul here - https://youtu.be/8_KVxaqekM8?si=mGi_9...
Books mentioned in this topic
Words Without Borders: The World Through the Eyes of Writers: An Anthology (other topics)Blowfish (other topics)
I Live in Bongcheon-dong 나는 봉천동에 산다 (other topics)
Blowfish (other topics)
Authors mentioned in this topic
Kyung-ran Jo (other topics)Kyung-ran Jo (other topics)




With this club's August 2025 book set to be Blowfish by Jo Kyung-ran (조경란), now is a good time to revisit her other work.
Blowfish will be the Korean Literature Club's fourth work by Jo Kyung-ran. The first was way back in the distant yore-times of the early 2010s ("I Live in Bongcheon-dong," April 2014 gathering). The others were in Jan 2016, Sept 2023, and now Aug 2025 (Blowfish).
Jo Kyung-ran (b.1969) is an acclaimed Korean fiction writer. Notably, she has kept her leading status for nearly 25 years, from the early 2000s to the mid-2020s. She's just won a major literary prize (이상문학상, 2024, for a short-story collection titled "일러두기"; not available in English, but likely someone's already getting on that).
It's interesting that the Korean Literature Club, too, keeps coming back to Jo Kyung-ran, in different eras and under different discussion-leaders.
There are several good English translations of Jo Kyung-ran stories, worth your attention. At least two are free; and easily consumed by anyone with an Internet-worthy device to those who know where to look.
The Jo Kyung-ran stories previously read by this Club, 2 of 3 of which are open-access available online to read:
___________
(1.) "BOUGHT A BALLOON" / by Jo Kyung-ran, translated by Brother Anthony of Taize. (About 10,750 words.)
The full text of "Bought a Balloon" (English translation; HTML) is here:
---> http://anthony.sogang.ac.kr/Balloon.htm
.
"Bought a Balloon" was the Korean Literature Club's January 2016 story. (See: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...).
__________
(2.) "LOOKING FOR THE ELEPHANT" / by Jo Kyung-ran, translated by Heinz Insu Fenkl. (About 6,600 words.)
The full text of "Looking for the Elephant" (English translation; HTML) is here:
---> https://www.fiftytwostories.com/?p=428
.
"Looking for the Elephant" was the Korean Literature Club's September 2023 story. (See: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...).
_________
(3.) "I LIVE IN BONGCHEON-DONG" / by Jo Kyung-ran, translated by Kari Schenk. (ca. 10,000 words?)
This story was one of the "faces" of Korean literature-in-translation, back there in the years about 2013-2015 (to the relatively few paying attention).
The Korean Literature Club read "I Live in Bongcheon-dong" for its April 2014 session. (See: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...).
(See also the "Bongcheon-dong" story GR entry: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2....)
"I Live in Bongcheon-dong" is not available freely online, as far as I know. Asia Publishers [Seoul] published it as part of their "Bilingual Editions" series, in a small batch released in October 2013. These were stories in which Korean-and-English texts were printed back-to-back. Stories from this series are available in surprisingly many public libraries in South Korea. These books are difficult to acquire outside Korea as they were never (re-)published abroad -- a testament to of Korean literature's weak global brand back in the mid-2010s. (On which, incidentally, see: "John Lie, 2014: Korean literature has gained almost no popularity or profile outside Korea; Why?" (https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...).
The English translator for "I Live in Bongcheon-dong," Kari Schenk, is a familiar name to some. She won a commendation prize from the Korea Times Translation Contest back in 2006. (See: https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...).
_________
_________
Anyone with info on other Jo Kyung-ran short-stories in English translation, please add them here.
Any reactions to these three stories ("Balloon," "Elephant" and "Boncheon"), also as always feel free to comment here.
If you're reading thus far in a thread like this, let me add a few lines of encouragement to actually read the stories linked-to above! It's hardly any deep commitment to read (or re-read) a <10,000-word story so easily available; the main barrier is will-power.
For those in Korea and who may see this (or others, similarly situated), I know many of you do train commuting in and around Seoul. You could get through both the HTML-available stories ("Elephant" and "Balloon") in a single day, during that "surreal, zone-out, 'down' time" people have aboard the trains. (Don't always be like the disturbingly-large number of video-watching zombies out there, which seem to be the lion's share of time-usage for Korean commuters aboard trains in the mid-2020s.)
I don't know what this new novel Blowfish is like.
GoodReads entry: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
Many early reviewers have given Blowfish low marks. But the number of ratings is so far very low. (Prolific Korean-literature-in-English-translation reviewer Paul Fulchur does, however, give his stamp-of-approval for Blowfish with a 4-star rating.)
In any case, reading these earlier Jo Kyung-ran stories may be a nice soft-introduction to taking on Blowfish (for the August 14, 2025 gathering).
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