Since her debut 14 years ago with a short story To the Moon, which won Literature and Society’s New Writers Award, South Korean writer Han Yujoo was at this year’s Zee Jaipur Literature Festival. She has authored three short story collections and bagged the prestigious Hankook Ilbo Literary Award; her first novel, The Impossible Fairytale, was published in 2017. Excerpts of the interview:
In Korea, many writers start out by writing short stories. Once they establish themselves as writers, they tend to move onto novels. I also fall into this category. At first, I held a vague kind of fear about the novel, but when I finished The Impossible Fairytale, I felt perhaps I was more suited for long-form fiction. Structure and technique are crucial to the short story, but I felt that in a novel, I could write about minute, seemingly unimportant details without limitation. In the process, I realised I actually had more to say than I had originally thought.
Because of my teaching schedule and my habit of going to bed late and waking up late, I don’t write on a daily basis. However, I usually jot down brief notes, and once I have amassed enough material to embark on a project, I do nothing except write. I basically have two kinds of days: days when I don’t write and days when I only write.
To be honest, Ondaatje and Dyer were much too sophisticated for the rookie translator that I was. Their works were difficult to translate, and I remember having to consult the editors a number of times. Since I’m not a native English speaker, the process of setting forth the English text into Korean felt as if I were dismantling sentences and then reassembling them. I believe the newly assembled sentences should be every bit as good as the original. In the process, I began to approach the Korean language – the language I use every day without any trouble – from a completely different perspective.
Unfortunately, I forgot all my German after I graduated from university. I learnt French during that time. Now I speak, read and write Korean, and can read French and English.
Of course, it’s inevitable that some things (such as the ‘flavour’ of a work, as you mentioned) will suffer or be lost during the translation process. But I believe that as a work is brought forth into the target language, there are aspects that are added. Gifted translators are able to even offset the loss that inevitably happens by bringing in wonderful new elements. In the end, translation is a creative act.
I was born in 1982, and so I always had a rather vague, uncertain image of North Korea. But when I look at the current situation, I can’t escape the sense that change will come quickly, whether it will be positive or negative. Of course, we need to seek a peaceful resolution at all costs.