The Birth of a New Literary Trend
The JoBo.
Newspapers have quite a long history—long enough that even the Joseon era had them. Of course, in a world where this restaurant served all manner of bizarre dishes, newspapers existed here as well.
This was not a world that changed as swiftly as reality, and paper remained precious, so they did not issue daily editions. Still, they published at intervals frequent enough that one could roughly grasp the turn of events in the world.
“Look at this! The article about Dangga Pungun is huge!”
Hwarin pointed excitedly at the piece on Dangga Pungun, practically bouncing with excitement.
“Let me see.”
How had they written it so large? The article on Dangga Pungun occupied a prominent spot on the front page of the JoBo.
“What if they wrote a terrible review?”
Hwarin spoke with clear unease.
“True. And it’s not like I have the power to possess people.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. With a write-up this long, I just hope it’s a glowing one.”
In general, people rarely poured effort into long-form negative reviews. A single mean comment was enough; there was no need to invest time and energy writing a full piece. Besides, the sort who left spiteful remarks usually preferred one-sided attacks and could not stand it when their own barbs drew fire in return. That was why most reviews tended toward neutral or outright praise.
Of course, in this case a man from the Literary Society had threatened to trash the book if he did not like it, so a little anxiety remained.
“Let’s read it together.”
Hwarin and I pressed our shoulders together and began reading the newspaper article side by side.
What is this? Even the title sounds serious.
Published under the name of the Literary Society, the article on Dangga Pungun corrected common prejudices against novels, offered a brief summary of the story, and described its popularity within Yichang.
Those who have not yet read Dangga Pungun may dismiss it as nothing more than a lewd novel. Yet Dangga Pungun is different.
This new form of novel—an erotic chivalric tale that rigid scholars might call vulgar—was approached by our Yichang Literary Society with open minds. Even in the scenes of passion we found something extraordinary.
In ordinary lewd novels, what are the love scenes like? Mere titillation and nothing more. The author Hopil, however, was different.
Though his language can be direct at times, he also commands the elegant implication and refined description of classical novelists.
Interesting. Had I ever actually used expressions that literati would praise in those love scenes?
Honey peach.
These three characters, meaning a peach of thin skin, abundant flesh and juice, and sweet flavor—by describing a woman’s breasts with only those three characters, does one not immediately understand how beautiful and alluring her body must be?
Author Hopil’s artistry did not end there.
Slender willow waist.
He was not content with the mere phrase “slender waist.” He coined “slender willow waist,” meaning a waist as thin and soft as a willow branch. And then to say that waist curved like a drawn bow—can one not picture the graceful arc of a willow branch bent like a bow?
This is a descriptive power utterly unlike the writers of common trash books who think only of base titillation.
Moreover, the lushness of her private place rendered as a fragrant herb grove, and the countless chrysanthemum-like metaphors, leave one wondering whether this can truly be called a mere lewd novel.
“I was really amazed by those expressions too. How do you even come up with things like that?”
“I’ve always had a way with words.”
I looked at Hwarin and declared it with exaggerated pride.
I was a little surprised myself. Who would have thought the expressions from old erotic chivalric novels would receive such high praise?
The phrases I had used were common stock from the deer-brand spicy chivalry books that once dominated an era. I had written them with respect for those senior authors of erotic wuxia, never expecting such lofty evaluation.
Well, in modern times they were decades-old clichés, but in this world they were expressions hundreds of years ahead of their time.
“Bullshit. Hehe.”
Hwarin laughed at me, and her honey peaches swayed. No—if I were honest, a peach was far too small and watery. Those were more like juicy watermelons.
Why do so many who once turned away from tales of the murim now look upon Dang Jeong? Because while Dangga Pungun draws influence from countless classics, it is an entirely new story.
Its foundation rests upon folk legends beloved by the common people—heroic tales. Through simple conflicts of good and evil and popular storytelling, it has melted the distant yet familiar world of the murim, with all its complex grudges and debts, into something approachable.
The true identity of Author Hopil remains unknown. Yet from the letter made public during the recent incident, one may surmise he is a scholar well-versed in the classics and a poor writer.
“Hehe. They’re calling you a scholar well-versed in the classics. You like that?”
Hwarin found the Literary Society’s misunderstanding so amusing that she jabbed her elbow into my side a couple of times.
“Yeah. I like it.”
But my side hurts. Hwarin, maybe ease up a little on the strength.
Hardship and adversity temper a person. Having risen from poverty, Author Hopil uses the erotic chivalric novel to give the people delight, and through the chivalrous spirit of his protagonist seeks to stir a new wind into the present age where men turn their heads from injustice.
Dangga Pungun. The erotic chivalric novel. We may well be witnessing, here in Yichang, the birth of a new literary trend.
A new literary trend.
I fell silent for a moment at that final sentence.
Days of clutching a starving belly because there was no food, of sleeping rough under the rain because there was nowhere else to rest. A life in which no one cared about the injustices suffered by the barbarians.
After countless trials I now stood inside Daseogak.
The world I had longed for—though Dangga Pungun wore the mask of an erotic chivalric novel, it contained the wuxia world I had always wanted.
In this world I was a mere scribbler who could neither shatter the heavens nor split the earth.
I would never become a grandmaster of martial arts in this murim realm. Yet as a writer—through erotic chivalric novels, wuxia novels, and every other kind of story I knew—perhaps under the name of Author Hopil I could create a single current. This article acknowledged that possibility.
It was a little moving.
“Yunho? What’s wrong?”
I must have been sitting in silence with a serious face, because Hwarin asked in a worried tone.
“It’s nothing. I’m just moved at being recognized like this.”
“Mm. That’s fair. Here—the article ends, but there’s another little piece next to it by the same writer.”
Hwarin pointed to a short additional note by the same author.
As a side note, there is one matter of concern.
A novel grounded in chivalry, justice, and the principle of rewarding good and punishing evil has, regrettably, split its readers into two camps. The problem is that this controversy is heating up not only among the general public but even within the Literary Society, which values spiritual cultivation.
Self-cultivation, family regulation, state governance, world peace. A man must first establish a household and secure stability before he can benefit the world. Our Yichang Literary Society hopes that Dang Jeong will quickly marry his most beloved principal wife—the First Beauty of Sichuan—and then continue the story…………
The side note reflects only the author’s personal opinion and is not the position of the Literary Society.
“Woooow! Yunho. This is basically an enormous compliment, isn’t it?”
Having finished the article, Hwarin turned to me with a beaming face.
“Yeah. With praise like this, even people who had no interest in Dangga Pungun will go looking for it again.”
“At this rate we might pay off the debt within the year!”
Hwarin wriggled happily at the rosy future she imagined. Oof. Those juicy watermelons were bouncing again.
“If Hwarin keeps printing books like crazy, it might just be possible.”
With the popularity vote tickets and the sales of Dangga Pungun, the dream might not be so far-fetched.
“Ugh! I’ll work hard.”
Hwarin made a faintly disgusted face, clearly remembering the grueling printing work ahead.
“Good day to you.”
While I was talking with Hwarin, a familiar face and another guest I had seen once before entered.
“Is that not Scholar Hwang?”
“Come on, little brother.”
Scholar Hwang shot a look at the younger man beside him. Now that I looked, the brother was carefully holding a copy of Dangga Pungun. He stared at me for a moment, then ducked his head in embarrassment.
“Thank you for the excellent gift. Because of it I was able to clear up the misunderstanding with my elder brother.”
So that was why the Literary Society article had appeared. This fellow must have enjoyed it, then?
“I’m glad you resolved things with such a fine elder brother. What brings you here today?”
There was really only one reason someone would climb all the way to the second floor carrying Dangga Pungun. I asked anyway, wanting to hear the obvious answer.
The younger brother glanced around shyly, then spoke in a quiet voice meant only for those nearby.
“Today I came with my brother to join the Daseo Club.”
“You’re very welcome. Enjoy yourselves to the fullest.”
I smiled in satisfaction at the answer I had wanted to hear.
Business at Daseogak only grew better once Dangga Pungun received the Literary Society’s endorsement. Yet success itself brought an unexpected problem.
“The popularity vote… doesn’t it look like the First Beauty of Sichuan is going to win?”
“Even if we buy Fragrance Coffee sets, it probably won’t make any difference.”
The gap in the popularity vote had begun to widen.