Wolkwang Publishing (1)
At that very moment, a pack of Culture Department reporters stormed into the hotel where Mok Hyunsun and Yang Yeon-gyu were staying.
Their target was Mok Hyunsun.
Yesterday, he had drawn attention with his reviews of three films, including Samurai.
Today, he was the critic who had incurred the wrath of some literary fans with his reinterpretation of Chunmong. What had sent those particular readers into a frenzy, above all else, was the fact that he was Korean.
To them, who had always assumed Japanese literature stood above Korean literature, the simple fact that Mok Hyunsun was Korean was intolerable. The lobby buzzed with noise as the reporters took over.
Most of them were from the kind of sensational daily papers people called the yellow press.
They badgered the poor lobby staff mercilessly. “We’re Culture Department reporters from the XX Newspaper! You can at least tell us what room Critic Mok Hyunsun is in. Just the room number, right?”
“I’m sorry, but sharing guest information with outsiders goes against our rules—”
“Then just tell us whether he’s here or not. We’ll stop pestering you if you do.”
“I’m sorry. That would be against policy as well—”
“What? You can’t even tell us that? Then what are you people standing here for?”
The reporter slammed a hand onto the front desk.
The female staff behind the counter flinched. Just then, the lobby manager, who had been out, returned.
“? What seems to be the matter?”
“Manager!”
Seeing their agitation, the manager looked blankly from one face to another.
The women at the desk hurried over and explained the situation. “The Korean man, Mok Hyunsun?”
“Yes. They keep saying they want to meet him.”
“Ah—good grief.” The manager stepped forward. “I’m terribly sorry. What can we do about this?” All the reporters turned to look at him.
After a polite bow, he spoke in the most courteous tone imaginable. “Mr. Mok Hyunsun and Mr. Yang Yeon-gyu checked out at 5:00 this morning.”
Checked out, he said.
“I personally handled their checkout myself, so I can assure you that’s correct. On behalf of this hotel, I sincerely apologize for not being able to provide this information more quickly.” He bowed again.
The manager smiled as if to say, Now if you would please leave. The reporters could only stand there in the lobby, looking like dogs that had lost the chicken they were chasing.
─┼
We caught the morning flight and crossed over to Osaka.
Rather than stay in Tokyo and get dragged into something by reporters for no reason,
wasn’t it better to spend the rest of my time somewhere much warmer than Tokyo? I had already finished my conversation with the film festival people.
My duty had been more than fulfilled by what I said after watching Samurai yesterday.
They certainly wouldn’t want me wandering in and out of the festival venue and causing an incident either. “At last, I’m eating it.” We sat outdoors and ate takoyaki.
Unlike the donburi in Tokyo, this suited my taste perfectly. The food was good,
the work was done,
the writing was finished,
and whatever ugly scrabbling was happening in Tokyo was none of my concern. “Ah, this is nice. It feels like a vacation.” I stretched my arms overhead.
A bright blue sky caught my eye.
Ah. This felt good.
“Critic Mok, you really don’t have an ordinary personality, do you?” Yang Yeon-gyu said helplessly.
I laughed. “Isn’t that one of the benefits of being a critic? I can put everything I want to say into my writing.” I poked at a takoyaki ball with a toothpick. “What happens outside of that isn’t my department.”
People could like me for it or hate me for it.
Even if they truly hated me, that was fine.
I had written what I wanted to say into the kind of piece I wanted to write.
Yang Yeon-gyu gave a low chuckle and said to me, “This time, I’m planning to write a three-part column based on the films we saw. I’ve already spoken to my newspaper, so I’ll probably be busy once I get back to Korea.”
“Ah, that’s great. I should write up my reinterpretation of Chunmong in Korean and run it in Pyeong.”
“Then you’ll be working on Pyeong production when you return to Korea?”
“I suppose so.”
“Hmm. How about this?”
“Yes?”
“Why don’t we set the theme of Pyeong issue 3 as ‘classic reinterpretation’?”
The same way you reinterpreted Chunmong.
Oh. ...That actually sounded pretty convincing.
─┼
Sometimes, things happened with astonishingly good timing.
Whether by coincidence or by luck.
But such coincidences sometimes came with… a certain sadness attached. The call from Representative Mun came that afternoon.
“Hello?”
“-It’s me. Choi Gi-sik.”
“I know. Representative Choi. What’s the occasion?” Representative Choi was the head of a publishing company in Paju.
The Korean publishing market was small, and everyone depended on everyone else, so communication among representatives tended to be quite smooth.
Representative Mun, in particular, was something of a social butterfly among them.
-It’s about Wolkwang Publishing.
“Wolkwang Publishing? Jang Yoon-shik?” Jang Yoon-shik was the head of Wolkwang Publishing.
-Yeah. Yoon-shik hyung.
Wolkwang Publishing was, so to speak, the patriarch of literary publishing houses.
Jang Yoon-shik, who founded Wolkwang Publishing in his youth, was now an old man of eighty.
For a time, Wolkwang Publishing had been indispensable in the literary publishing world, but because it had failed to keep up with the times, it had fallen far behind in the market competition.
Even so, Jang Yoon-shik had earned the respect of countless publishing people because he was one of the men who had opened up Korea’s harsh literary market in the first place.
Representative Choi fell silent for a moment.
The impatient Representative Mun prodded him. “Why the long pause? What’s going on?”
-Well... hyung says he’s sick.
“Ah...? What’s wrong?”
-Stomach cancer. I suppose his age is catching up with him.
“Haa... I see.” Representative Mun, who had been taking the call while working, set down his pen.
Among the heads of literary publishing houses, Jang Yoon-shik was considered a legend.
Wolkwang had been importing and translating high-quality literary books long before Gyeongseong Publishing was even established.
“Then what happens to Wolkwang?”
-Ah... actually, that’s why I called.
“Why? If he has two children, couldn’t one of them just take over?”
-Apparently that’s not how it’s working out. His daughter’s a doctor in the U.S., and his son’s busy running his own business.
“...Then what about Wolkwang?”
-...He says he’s going to close it.
“What?!” Representative Mun shot to his feet. “Wolkwang is shutting down? Our country’s oldest literary publisher is going to close because it can’t find a successor? Does that make any sense?”
-Now, now, don’t get worked up.
“How can I not get worked up? Hah—those damn kids are really going too far!”
-You know as well as I do that running a publishing house isn’t easy. I couldn’t exactly deny that, and that only made it sadder.
And yet, even knowing how much Wolkwang had endured over the decades, it was more painful to see it go like this.
“Haa... this is ridiculous, honestly.” Representative Mun strode to the window.
Representative Choi said carefully, -We tried to find a manager, but I guess it didn’t work out. Apparently Wolkwang Publishing was in the red pretty badly, too. Hyung was apparently one step away from taking out a home equity loan.
“...Hah.” A bitter laugh escaped me.
Of course I understood that publishing was a hard business, and I also knew Wolkwang Publishing had, to put it bluntly, gone stale.
Still, I hadn’t expected it to end like this.
It left a bitter taste in my mouth.
-Honestly, I think shutting down now might be better for hyung.
“...So? Is he hospitalized, at least?”
-He seems to be going back and forth to the hospital. Since his health is poor, finding someone to manage things probably isn’t easy either.
“I see.”
-He also asked whether the publication contracts already signed could be handed off to the juniors.
“We’ll take them all. Send everything over here.” I said without hesitation. The writers contracted with Wolkwang Publishing probably weren’t very famous.
For Gyeongseong Publishing, taking them in would only mean a loss.
But I wanted to do it anyway.
I wanted to lighten Jang’s burden, even if only in that way.
-...Right. Thanks. Let’s go see Yoon-shik hyung sometime soon.
“Of course. We should go.” Representative Mun said weakly. After hanging up, he looked out the window with a bitter expression.
Another era in the literary publishing world is passing away like this.
Then, knock knock. A rapping sound came at the door, and Deputy Team Leader Byeon from the Overseas Literature Department came in.
She held a folder in both hands.
“What is it, Deputy Team Leader Byeon?” Deputy Team Leader Byeon bowed.
Whether she sensed Representative Mun’s mood or not, she smiled brightly and said, “Representative, you received the report on Editor Mok Hyunsun’s criticism piece published on the webzine in Japan, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I did. I heard he caused a bit of trouble over there.”
Honestly, Representative Mun didn’t think much of it.
Was it his first time seeing Mok Hyunsun cause trouble?
“The ripple effect has actually been quite good. Sales of Chunmong, which had been published by our company, have increased significantly.” Deputy Team Leader Byeon handed over the documents she had brought.
Representative Mun took them and looked over the pages.
There were a few straightforward graphs lined up in a row.
“...”
The recent sales figures for Japanese literary works that had been released alongside Chunmong.
Among them, Chunmong’s numbers had risen sharply.
“Chunmong has always been a work that stayed within the top thirty bestsellers, but because of this incident it climbed as high as number eleven, and we expect it to rise further.”
“...I see.” Only then did Deputy Team Leader Byeon realize something was off.
Normally, Representative Mun should have reacted more enthusiastically.
But somehow, it didn’t seem like good news, so she decided to read the room and step back. “Then I’ll conclude my report here. I’ll keep pushing while the momentum lasts, so we don’t lose it.”
“Mm. Good work, Deputy Team Leader Byeon.” Deputy Team Leader Byeon hurried out of the office.
Representative Mun let out a long breath.
Maybe the knot in his chest had loosened a little.
“...”
Deputy Team Leader Byeon didn’t know.
She didn’t know that the graph she had shown him had, at least a little, soothed the anger that had been burning in Representative Mun’s chest.
He looked back out the window.
Yes. I need to keep going. For every era that passes, a new one is born.
─┼
After finishing a weeklong trip to Japan, I returned to Korea.
Even in Korea, there were already a staggering number of articles about my reinterpretation of Chunmong.
What impressed me most was the reaction from fellow critics.
Through social media, they shared all kinds of thoughts about my work in Japan.
And so on.
Of course, quite naturally, there would also be people who found my path unusual. The world has always been like that.
But since none of them were coming out and saying it openly... it seemed I was still doing all right.
And when I came to work after a while away, Deputy Team Leader Byeon from the Overseas Literature Department came looking for me.
“Editor Mok~.” She called out to me brightly, practically glowing with excitement.
I had heard that Chunmong’s sales trend had shot up, but to be this happy about it?
“We’re doing a second printing of Chunmong. It’s all thanks to you, Editor Mok.”
“Oh, that’s great. I heard world literature usually keeps reprinting steadily, but not quickly.”
“Exactly. Chunmong already had a second printing this summer, so we thought it wouldn’t happen again for another three years, but thanks to you, the timing has moved up.”
So if three years had been reduced to six months, that was like increasing sales speed sixfold.
No wonder Deputy Team Leader Byeon had a smile on her face. Still grinning, she asked me cautiously, “So, um...”
“?”
“Could you write a few lines to commemorate the second printing of Chunmong?”