South Korea: 5 Intriguing Short Stories

Miss Kim Knows [2021/23] by Cho Nam-Joo – ★★★★

In this short story collection, Cho Nam-Joo (Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982) focuses on the lives of eight Korean women, showcasing issues in contemporary Korea. In the titular story, even before starting her first day at her new job in a hospital advertisement agency, a young woman gets more than an eyeful of that company at an organised workshop for employees hosted over a weekend. Her predecessor, mysterious Miss Kim, a lowly employee, seems to have run the agency almost single-handedly, but where is she now and what happened to her? Cho Nam-Joo’s story idea and its beginning are definitely much stronger than the somewhat underwhelming finale, but this is still one memorable “a person against the system” tale that provides an incisive, humorous insight into the workings of a Korean company filled with nepotism and incompetence. I read this short story in Miss Kim Knows and Other Stories by Cho Nam-Joo [translated by Jamie Chang, Scribner UK, 2023].

The Glass Shield [2006/23] by Kim Jung-hyuk – ★★★★

Translated by Kevin O’Rourke, this is a story of two inseparable young men (our narrator and M) who go to a series of job interviews together because they cannot bear the thought of not working for the same company. They try very unconventional techniques to impress their interviewers (including untangling a yarn), but because of their togetherness and unique interviewing style, they have had no luck so far landing anything. That is, until the two friends-pranksters become an internet sensation, and finally have a chance to shine in the crowded job market. This story brims with comic originality, and is about trying to triumph through one’s eccentricity and individualism in a big city governed by monotony and predictability. It ends on the reconsideration of one’s life purpose. The story is part of The Penguin Book of Korean Short Stories [edited by Bruce Fulton, Penguin Classics, 2023].

Waxen Wings [1999] by Ha Seong-nan – ★★★★

“Teacher, I want to fly, but the ground keeps pulling me down”. This a moving short story about a ten-year-old girl, nicknamed Birdie, in love with flying and being airborne. At first, she is a member of her school gymnastics team, but then she grows too tall, and has to abandon her sporting ambitions. Destiny keeps dealing her a bad hand. Later in life, Birdie’s relationship with a mysterious man who claimed to be a child actor also comes to nothing, and her pursuit of thrills of hang gliding results in a catastrophic accident. The second-person present tense narration works surprisingly well in this story of lost dreams, loneliness, and desire to connect. “People are meant to have both feet planted on solid ground”, Birdie is told, but the last thing to die in a person is always hope. I read this story in Waxen Wings: The Acta Korean Anthology of Short Fiction from Korea [edited by Bruce Fulton, Koryo Press, 2011].

Wayfarer [1997] by O Chong-hui – ★★★★★

“Other people don’t have as much interest in us as we think they do…And they don’t remember us for as long as we think they should“. Translated by Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton, this is a story from collection The Future of Silence: Fiction by Korean Women [Zephyr Press, 2015], featuring nine stories from women writers of contemporary Korea. Wayfarer begins on a snowy day. A woman is trying to reconnect with society, largely with her past friends, after a certain “incident”, divorce from her husband and the leave of her children. She has an aspiration to be a puppet-maker again, and, then, made an appointment to see friends at a local bar. But, the world is different, already marching forward without her. This is a very impressive short story about abandonment, loneliness, prejudice, and lost time, and it blends beautifully melancholic aspects with a sense of a mystery. It has the emotional depth of a fully-fledged novel.

The Beating [1975] by Yun Heung-gil – ★★★★

Yun Heung-gil‘s stories often portrayed ordinary people struggling to find their feet in the Korean society obsessed with money and outward signs of success, while still being traumatised by the war and political upheavals of the 1950s. The Beating tells of the Sanho Teahouse that is frequented by societal “underdogs”, people fallen on hard times and various wannabes with no future. One day, a sudden change comes into the establishment: a new cook is employed, and, surprisingly, that mysterious man makes rather delicious coffee. The rumour has it that he is a criminal on the run, but it is unclear how many people take it seriously – until the police raid the premises. This is a thought-provoking story about oppression, the vicious cycle of crime and abuse, and our common responsibility. I read this short story in The House of Twilight [Readers International, 1989/2022].