Wolkwang Publishing (2)
“You mean a blurb?”
“Right. We’re reprinting Spring Dream, but this is an unusual case, isn’t it? A classic like this suddenly shooting up like that. So to mark the occasion, I’m thinking of putting out a new band for it.” A band. The long strip of paper wrapped around a book when it is published.
It usually carries advertising copy or praise from a well-known figure.
And that costs money too, so unless it’s a new release, there’s rarely any reason to use one. The thing about bands is that they’re rather funny.
Some readers buy a book and toss the band immediately because it gets in the way, while others use it as a bookmark.
And some even collect them carefully. To be honest, I… throw them away right away. They’re a nuisance. Anyway, “A new band for something that isn’t even a new release?”
“Not just the band. We should lay it out across the major bookstore shelves too. Strike while the iron’s hot. People are buying it because they saw Managing Editor Mok’s articles and criticism, so if we put Managing Editor Mok’s recommendation on the band, wouldn’t that look perfect?” As for me, there was no reason to object.
I was already planning to reread the classics in volume 3 of Pyeong, so having my name wrapped around the reprint edition of Spring Dream could also serve as indirect publicity. “I’ll do it. It should only take three or four lines.”
“Oh, you will? That’s more than enough. Then I’ll leave it to you. Thanks. Ah, how soon can you have it ready?” How soon? I thought about it for a moment.
The shorter the copy on a band, the better.
The real task was to turn a clear message into simple prose that the general public could easily understand. Something I wanted to say to the people reading this book, or at least to those who cared about my criticism.
That’s right. Clearly.
In that case...
“I’ll write it now.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yes. If I get it to you quickly, it’ll make things easier for the foreign literature department too.”
Right now, with Spring Dream selling like hotcakes.
We needed to get the reprint out with the band wrapped around it as soon as possible. I sat down.
Then I took out a work memo pad and a pen. While Team Leader Byun was still taken aback,
I wrote down the words that came to mind without hesitation. Literature does not age. Only new interpretations emerge with the times. Think, and think again. I hope my own reading is overturned again when the age has passed. That was my fundamental attitude toward the great canon, toward whatever people called classical literature or world literature.
A work had to be reinterpreted as time went by.
By the people of a new era, through a new set of eyes.
Only works that could be interpreted again in that way could also remain art that lived forever.
“Done. Please tell me if it sounds strange.” I held the memo pad out to Team Leader Byun.
He took it with a dazed expression. “…I can’t believe it. That quickly?”
“Content matters more than speed. Take a look.” Team Leader Byun quietly read through my recommendation.
Then he said, moved, “Good heavens. The meaning is excellent. Literature does not age... That fits rereading the classics perfectly. Good. We can run with this as is.” I had passed. And then, a few days later.
On my desk sat a copy of Spring Dream that intern Yoon Gyeong-min had placed there.
It was the reprint edition of Spring Dream that had been issued this time. The book itself was the same as the previous reprint, but
its cover had been wrapped in a bright green band that caught the eye.
My lines were printed on it exactly as I had written them,
and at the end it said this: Recommended by Literary Critic Mok Hyunsun.
“Recommended by Literary Critic Mok Hyunsun...” Having my name on a band gave me a strange feeling.
It felt like I had carried out another role as a critic.
I removed the band, slipped it into a clear file, and tucked it carefully into my drawer.
It was the first band I had ever kept instead of throwing away.
─┼
I heard astonishing news. “Mok, do you know this? Wolkwang Publishing went under.” The three senior editors who had stopped by my office dropped a piece of news I could hardly believe. “Wolkwang Publishing went under?!”
“Yeah. You didn’t know? Chairman Jang Yoon-shik of Wolkwang Publishing is sick. Sounds like cancer. But Wolkwang has been running in the red for years, so... he’s just shutting it down without passing it on to anyone.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to hand it over to a professional manager, at least? It’s still Wolkwang Publishing.” Among every literary publisher that existed in Korea, there wasn’t one untouched by Wolkwang Publishing’s influence. “Wolkwang was also the first in Korea to publish a World Literature Collection.” That was exactly why. Publishing a collected edition took real courage from a publisher’s standpoint.
Because you were investing heavily to release dozens of volumes at once.
In the case of world literature especially, bringing in foreign works through proper licensing took a great deal of money and labor. Nowadays the system was so well established that publishers of every size put out collected editions left and right, though apparently it was hard to turn a profit unless you were a major house.
And the company that built that system was Wolkwang Publishing.
Back when there was no such thing as a world literature collection in Korea.
The then-young Chairman Jang Yoon-shik traveled all over the world, negotiated contracts, and published a forty-volume set.
And starting with those forty volumes, he expanded the collection to three hundred books. Senior Kim said, “Exactly. For a while, when people heard World Literature Collection, they thought of Wolkwang Publishing. But now other publishers have taken a big share of that market... and it’s been ages since they put out any new volumes. Market logic can be pretty cruel.”
“That may be true, but... it still feels bitter.”
“So apparently some work is being handed over to the Korean literature department. We’ve agreed to handle Wolkwang’s contract work in their place.”
“If they can’t even finish the contracts already on the books, the chairman’s condition must be serious.”
“He’s very old. I hear the staff has all been let go, and the headquarters building has been sold too. Anyway, just keep it in mind. No telling how the fallout will come down.” Senior Yang waved a hand dismissively. “Come on, honestly, we don’t need to worry about it. What does it have to do with the periodicals department? At most, Managing Editor Im will write a page or two to send to Wolkwang Publishing and have it printed, won’t he?” His point had merit.
Wolkwang Publishing mainly published books, so there was no reason for work to fall on our side, which made magazines. ...Or so I thought. The company representative called for me the next day. Standing outside the representative’s office, I muttered, “...A private audience with the representative.”
I wasn’t used to this.
Normally Managing Editor Im was always there with me.
Why had he called only me? But there was no way to avoid it. Knock, knock. I knocked and went in. “Oh. Managing Editor Mok.” The company representative greeted me.
I bowed politely to him. “You called for me?” He sprang up, came over, and seized my hand in a firm handshake. “You did very well in Japan this time.” Ah. That hurts.
“And as a result, Spring Dream has also done much better. Ah, I saw the band copy you wrote too. I already knew this, but the writing is excellent. So don’t worry about the reactions in Japan. We can’t control everything like that, and the controversy has already died down anyway. Ah, and Pyeong is moving along smoothly too, yes? You’re preparing the third issue now?” Questions came pouring down on me.
Before I could answer, he pointed at the sofa. “Sit, sit.” So it didn’t seem he had called me out of simple curiosity.
That energetic commotion was apparently the company representative’s own way of greeting someone. I sat on the sofa and, instead of answering, asked, “Then why did you call for me?”
“Ah, well...” The representative dragged it out.
No, not dragged it out. He was hesitating.
It was the first time I had ever seen that much energy bog down in speech. But the silence didn’t last long. “Have you heard about Wolkwang Publishing?”
“Yes. I heard it from the seniors.”
“You’re quick on the uptake.” He gave a snort of a laugh. “Honestly, you rose through the ranks so fast I thought you’d have trouble getting along with the seniors.”
“It’s not that I did anything special. They’re simply broad-minded. I’m grateful for it.”
“No, keeping a good image in the company is a skill too. Anyway, with Wolkwang Publishing like this...” By then I had already braced myself.
So this is where work gets dumped on me.
It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but I wasn’t foolish enough to show displeasure. Then the company representative said something I had never expected. “Actually, tomorrow Managing Editor Im and I are planning to go over there to pay our respects. But Chairman Jang Yoon-shik of Wolkwang Publishing has said he wants to meet you.”
“Me?” Why on earth me? “Yes. But honestly... I didn’t ask why. The man’s body is already in bad shape, so pressing him with questions felt a little...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Could you meet him once, just this once? The two of us will be there too, so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”
“Ah.”
“I’m not ordering you. It’s a suggestion. You’re not just some ordinary employee, and from your position, it could be a burden.” There was a reason the representative was being careful.
No matter how important a figure he was in the publishing world, he was still a sick man.
To put it bluntly, he was someone who would soon be leaving the industry.
Dragging me, of all people, into that kind of setting without explaining why was not normal. Chairman Jang Yoon-shik.
I thought back to the World Literature Collection he had published.
Those faded volumes with the outdated design that were said to mark the beginning of Korea’s world literature collections. I hadn’t read world literature through that collection. I had mainly read Gyeongseong Publishing’s World Literature Collection. For the company representative and Managing Editor Im’s generation, Wolkwang had probably been the familiar name.
But by the time I began reading literature in earnest, Wolkwang Publishing was already treated as an old publisher. And yet, even so. “Yes. I’ll go.” I agreed without adding anything else. My conclusion was that Jang Yoon-shik was someone worth meeting.
Even if he was a man of a past era,
the one who opened the door to an era could never be an ordinary man. As a publisher, I had at least that much respect in me.
─┼
Wolkwang Publishing was on a hillside near Hapjeong Station.
It was absolutely not the sort of building suited to a proper office or to any serious business.
Rather, it looked like one of those villas that would not seem out of place in a redevelopment zone at any moment. “This used to be a villa where Hongdae students rented one-room apartments, but after he bought the building at auction, he just used it as a publishing house. Honestly, he would’ve lived a lot more comfortably if he’d just leased it out.” The company representative said that in front of it.
Something about the way he said it made me think he was already getting misty-eyed.
“Maybe he wanted to live doing what he wanted rather than what was easy,” Managing Editor Im said flatly.
Not joining in his sentiment, the company representative complained, “You’re always so cold sometimes, aren’t you? Managing Editor Mok, what do you think?” Why drag me into this all of a sudden?
But unfortunately, my thoughts weren’t all that different from Managing Editor Im’s. “I think it’s enough if he was happy.”
“...Honestly, what can I expect from critics? Anyway, hoo—don’t all act so depressed, all right? Let’s go in. Understood?” The representative gave what sounded like a self-addressed warning, then took one more deep breath.
Managing Editor Im asked, “Chairman Jang is inside, right?”
“Yes. He’s scheduled for surgery next week, so it seems he’s coming in to wrap up the publishing house’s work before then. Come on, let’s go in.” He pushed open the frosted glass door, and the three of us entered.
But right at the entrance. “Wow...” An exclamation escaped me.