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Sa</title></head><body>
<div><font size="+1" color="#000000"><i>_Three Poets of Modern Korea:
Yi Sang, Hahm Dong-Seon and Choi Young-Mi_,</i> translated and edited
by Yu Jung-Yul and James Kimbrell. Louisville, KY:</font><font
size="+1" color="#34349C"><u> Sarabande Books</u></font><font
size="+1" color="#000000">, 2002. 72 pages. (ISBN 1-8893-3071-X,
paper). US $13.95.<br>
<br>
Reviewed by Sehjae Chun<br>
Hanyang University<br>
san@hanyang.ac.kr<br>
<br>
Readers of<i> Three Poets of Modern Korea: Yi Sang, Hahm Dong-Seon,
and Choi Young-Mi,</i> translated and edited by Yu Jung-Yul and James
Kimbrell, may be pleasantly surprised to see the intriguing
combination of these three poets, and wonder how these three poets
have come to be put together in one volume. Yi (1910-1937) was an
experimental poet from the early twentieth century when Korea was
under Japanese occupation; Hahm (1930- ) is a poet, essayist, and
professor of Korean Literature and relatively lesser-known than the
other two poets; and Choi (1961- ) is the author of a poetry
collection that has sold half a million copies. As Kimbrell warns,
this volume is not a canonical collection, but presents "a sense
of the vision inherent in each of these poets" (xviii) and
appears to have been designed to showcase the diversity of Korean
poetry to English readers. <br>
<br>
Yu and Kimbrell, after a succinct introduction that provides both
historical context and biographical sketches of each poet, invite the
reader to three distinct poetic realms of modern Korea. Yi Sang, the
first to appear in this collection, is one of the few Korean poets,
whose work, like that of Ko Un, has been relatively widely
disseminated in English. Yi's poetry exemplifies many
undercurrents in the modern Korean literary scene. Well-known for the
experimental, surreal, and abstract composition of his poems, which
invite various interpretations, he uses the pseudonym Yi Sang, which
can be interpreted as "strange." His poems remind one
of Louis Zukofsky's "A" or some of the experimental pieces
of the L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poets, and it is little wonder that his poems
are widely read and studied for their distinctive style. In
particular, "Crow's-Eye View," a serial collection of
fourteen poems, translated here, poses an interpretive challenge to
readers of both Korean and English literature. The series, in
combining geometrical diagrams, disruptive grammatical composition,
the innovative appropriation of space and other devices allows for a
rich but sometimes frustrating poetic freedom of interpretation.<br>
<br>
In accordance with the demanding textuality of Yi's oeuvre,
translators sometimes must make bold interpretive decisions, and the
attempts to embark on this difficult task in this volume deserve
recognition for making the text very readable. However, close
comparison with the original text shows that the translators have at
times engaged in arbitrary interpretation of Yi's stylistic
strategies. For example, the lack of spacing between the words in the
original Korean highlights a visual and architectonic design on Yi's
part, similar to the postmodern poetics found in many "Language"
poems. The translation, however, disrupts this format, placing
spaces between words and detracting from the aesthetic appeal of his
poems.<br>
<br>
For Hahm and Choi's poems, however, the translators succeed more fully
in maintaining a delicate balance between readability and faithfulness
to the original. Hahm differs from Yi in neither following radical
experimental poetics nor having attained stellar literary status. Hahm
differs from the indigenous lyricism of Su Jung-Joo and Park Jae-Sam,
or the prosaic rhetoric of Kim Su-Young, in his exploration of the
acute sense of reality about the separation of North and South Korea.
Given that poems about the Korean War and the subsequent confrontation
between the North and the South largely have not currently been
receiving the attention they deserve from literary circles, the
reintroduction of such Hahm's poems as "Colony," "In
Tunnel Number Three," and "The Last Face" by English
readers of Korean is very welcome. Beginning with his own personal
experience of exile in the Korean War, Hahm delves into the
sensibility of those who were forced to leave their home and echoes
this sensibility onward to contemporary Korean society in a controlled
voice. For example, in "Jeju Island," Hahm employs a poetic
alter ego, 'Chusa,' who was exiled to Jeju Island for his role in the
political turmoil of 1840, in order to confront the unbridgeable
rupture between the personal and the historical before returning to
his own subjectivity.</font></div>
<div><font size="+1" color="#000000"><br>
Hahm's poems attempt to reach into the ongoing histories of North and
South and have perhaps their greatest appeal to the generation who
experienced the Korean War. Choi's work, on the other
hand, resonates most particularly with the so-called "386"
generation who, in the 1990s were in their 30s, had attended
university in the 1980s and were born in the 1960s (and who are now in
the process of transformation into a "486" generation). The
386ers stood in the midst of the historical turbulence of the 1980s,
marked by such events as the Kwangju Democratic Uprising, military
dictatorship, radical student demonstrations, and the Seoul Olympics.
Heirs to the spirit of the 4.19 Student Revolution in 1960, which led
to the fall of the corrupt Syngman Rhee regime, they represent a
similar wave of ideals and a desire to be free from corruption,
politically and socially. Choi's first poetry collection,
provocatively titled<i> At Thirty, the Party Was Over,</i> may be
compared to the success of Sylvia Plath's<i> Ariel.</i> Choi
here pointedly articulates the pessimistic voice of the female
activist, recalling the agony and despair of the 1980s social
movements that swept Korean society. In persuasively echoing the
struggles of the 386 generation in the midst of the 1980s, she
attempts to address the wounds of this turbulent age. "At
Thirty, the Party Was Over" shows her ambiguous feelings about
her involvement with the student protest movements. In a tone of
self-contempt, she confesses that 'I liked the demonstrators more than
the demonstrations' and that her efforts in the student movements made
'no difference at all.' However, she acknowledges her social
responsibility, writing that 'someone will stay here until it's all
over, and clean the table before the owner comes out.' Furthermore,
'the party' has a more specific cultural significance for women,
because the burden of the tremendous preparation for traditional
Korean parties is placed on women.<br>
<br>
Choi's poems are also characterized by sexually provocative
descriptions as in the following lines from "Recollection of the
Last Sex": 'I chewed for a long time / on the recollection
of the last sex / that filled my mouth.' Similarly in "Song in a
Dolorous Café," she writes, 'With which chap / did I pluck the
flower of random desire without any guilt at all.' Although
overwhelmed by conflicting responses from the readership that she
commercialized the student movement while succeeding in articulating
her sexuality and individuality, Choi's poems make a fresh impact on
readers who are accustomed to literary seriousness as well.<br>
<br>
Readers, however, must be aware that the translations here are chosen
from both her poetry books, and arranged randomly without any
indication of volume. Poems from Choi's second volume, such as
"Amen I" "Amen II" and "In the Submerged Area
of Imha Dam," reveal an evolution from her earlier sensational
and self-derogatory impulses towards a more sedate and patient tone,
although the translators make no note of this. The changes signal Choi
and the 386 generation's adaptation to a changing social and
historical environment.<br>
<br>
<i>Three Poets of Modern Korea</i> clearly shows Yu and Kimbrell's
affection for Korean poems and fills a niche with its diversity of
perspectives and tastes in Korean poetry. The volume will contribute
towards fostering appreciation of Korean poems, and therein lies its
strength.<br>
<br>
<br>
<x-tab> </x-tab> <br>
Citation:<br>
Chun, Sehjae 2006<br>
Review of<i> _Three Poets of Modern Korea: Yi Sang, Hahm Dong-Seon and
Choi Young-Mi_,</i> translated and edited by Yu Jung-Yul and James
Kimbrell (2002)<br>
_Korean Studies Review_ 2006, no. 10<br>
Electronic file: http://koreaweb.ws/ks/ksr/ksr06-10.htm<br>
<i>_Three Poets of Modern Korea: Yi Sang, Hahm Dong-Seon and Choi
Young-Mi_,</i> translated and edited by Yu Jung-Yul and James
Kimbrell. Louisville, KY:</font><font size="+1" color="#34349C"><u>
Sarabande Books</u></font><font size="+1" color="#000000">, 2002. 72
pages. (ISBN 1-8893-3071-X, paper). US $13.95.<br>
<br>
Reviewed by Sehjae Chun<br>
Hanyang University<br>
san@hanyang.ac.kr<br>
<br>
Readers of<i> Three Poets of Modern Korea: Yi Sang, Hahm Dong-Seon,
and Choi Young-Mi,</i> translated and edited by Yu Jung-Yul and James
Kimbrell, may be pleasantly surprised to see the intriguing
combination of these three poets, and wonder how these three poets
have come to be put together in one volume. Yi (1910-1937) was an
experimental poet from the early twentieth century when Korea was
under Japanese occupation; Hahm (1930- ) is a poet, essayist, and
professor of Korean Literature and relatively lesser-known than the
other two poets; and Choi (1961- ) is the author of a poetry
collection that has sold half a million copies. As Kimbrell warns,
this volume is not a canonical collection, but presents "a sense
of the vision inherent in each of these poets" (xviii) and
appears to have been designed to showcase the diversity of Korean
poetry to English readers. </font></div>
<div><font size="+1" color="#000000"><br>
Yu and Kimbrell, after a succinct introduction that provides both
historical context and biographical sketches of each poet, invite the
reader to three distinct poetic realms of modern Korea. Yi Sang, the
first to appear in this collection, is one of the few Korean poets,
whose work, like that of Ko Un, has been relatively widely
disseminated in English. Yi's poetry exemplifies many
undercurrents in the modern Korean literary scene. Well-known for the
experimental, surreal, and abstract composition of his poems, which
invite various interpretations, he uses the pseudonym Yi Sang, which
can be interpreted as "strange." His poems remind one
of Louis Zukofsky's "A" or some of the experimental pieces
of the L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poets, and it is little wonder that his poems
are widely read and studied for their distinctive style. In
particular, "Crow's-Eye View," a serial collection of
fourteen poems, translated here, poses an interpretive challenge to
readers of both Korean and English literature. The series, in
combining geometrical diagrams, disruptive grammatical composition,
the innovative appropriation of space and other devices allows for a
rich but sometimes frustrating poetic freedom of interpretation.<br>
<br>
In accordance with the demanding textuality of Yi's oeuvre,
translators sometimes must make bold interpretive decisions, and the
attempts to embark on this difficult task in this volume deserve
recognition for making the text very readable. However, close
comparison with the original text shows that the translators have at
times engaged in arbitrary interpretation of Yi's stylistic
strategies. For example, the lack of spacing between the words in the
original Korean highlights a visual and architectonic design on Yi's
part, similar to the postmodern poetics found in many "Language"
poems. The translation, however, disrupts this format, placing
spaces between words and detracting from the aesthetic appeal of his
poems.<br>
<br>
For Hahm and Choi's poems, however, the translators succeed more fully
in maintaining a delicate balance between readability and faithfulness
to the original. Hahm differs from Yi in neither following radical
experimental poetics nor having attained stellar literary status. Hahm
differs from the indigenous lyricism of Su Jung-Joo and Park Jae-Sam,
or the prosaic rhetoric of Kim Su-Young, in his exploration of the
acute sense of reality about the separation of North and South Korea.
Given that poems about the Korean War and the subsequent confrontation
between the North and the South largely have not currently been
receiving the attention they deserve from literary circles, the
reintroduction of such Hahm's poems as "Colony," "In
Tunnel Number Three," and "The Last Face" by English
readers of Korean is very welcome. Beginning with his own personal
experience of exile in the Korean War, Hahm delves into the
sensibility of those who were forced to leave their home and echoes
this sensibility onward to contemporary Korean society in a controlled
voice. For example, in "Jeju Island," Hahm employs a poetic
alter ego, 'Chusa,' who was exiled to Jeju Island for his role in the
political turmoil of 1840, in order to confront the unbridgeable
rupture between the personal and the historical before returning to
his own subjectivity.<br>
<br>
Hahm's poems attempt to reach into the ongoing histories of North and
South and have perhaps their greatest appeal to the generation who
experienced the Korean War. Choi's work, on the other
hand, resonates most particularly with the so-called "386"
generation who, in the 1990s were in their 30s, had attended
university in the 1980s and were born in the 1960s (and who are now in
the process of transformation into a "486" generation). The
386ers stood in the midst of the historical turbulence of the 1980s,
marked by such events as the Kwangju Democratic Uprising, military
dictatorship, radical student demonstrations, and the Seoul Olympics.
Heirs to the spirit of the 4.19 Student Revolution in 1960, which led
to the fall of the corrupt Syngman Rhee regime, they represent a
similar wave of ideals and a desire to be free from corruption,
politically and socially. Choi's first poetry collection,
provocatively titled<i> At Thirty, the Party Was Over,</i> may be
compared to the success of Sylvia Plath's<i> Ariel.</i> Choi
here pointedly articulates the pessimistic voice of the female
activist, recalling the agony and despair of the 1980s social
movements that swept Korean society. In persuasively echoing the
struggles of the 386 generation in the midst of the 1980s, she
attempts to address the wounds of this turbulent age. "At
Thirty, the Party Was Over" shows her ambiguous feelings about
her involvement with the student protest movements. In a tone of
self-contempt, she confesses that 'I liked the demonstrators more than
the demonstrations' and that her efforts in the student movements made
'no difference at all.' However, she acknowledges her social
responsibility, writing that 'someone will stay here until it's all
over, and clean the table before the owner comes out.' Furthermore,
'the party' has a more specific cultural significance for women,
because the burden of the tremendous preparation for traditional
Korean parties is placed on women.</font></div>
<div><font size="+1" color="#000000"><br>
Choi's poems are also characterized by sexually provocative
descriptions as in the following lines from "Recollection of the
Last Sex": 'I chewed for a long time / on the recollection
of the last sex / that filled my mouth.' Similarly in "Song in a
Dolorous Café," she writes, 'With which chap / did I pluck the
flower of random desire without any guilt at all.' Although
overwhelmed by conflicting responses from the readership that she
commercialized the student movement while succeeding in articulating
her sexuality and individuality, Choi's poems make a fresh impact on
readers who are accustomed to literary seriousness as well.<br>
<br>
Readers, however, must be aware that the translations here are chosen
from both her poetry books, and arranged randomly without any
indication of volume. Poems from Choi's second volume, such as
"Amen I" "Amen II" and "In the Submerged Area
of Imha Dam," reveal an evolution from her earlier sensational
and self-derogatory impulses towards a more sedate and patient tone,
although the translators make no note of this. The changes signal Choi
and the 386 generation's adaptation to a changing social and
historical environment.<br>
<br>
<i>Three Poets of Modern Korea</i> clearly shows Yu and Kimbrell's
affection for Korean poems and fills a niche with its diversity of
perspectives and tastes in Korean poetry. The volume will contribute
towards fostering appreciation of Korean poems, and therein lies its
strength.<br>
<br>
<br>
<x-tab> </x-tab> <br>
Citation:<br>
Chun, Sehjae 2006<br>
Review of<i> _Three Poets of Modern Korea: Yi Sang, Hahm Dong-Seon and
Choi Young-Mi_,</i> translated and edited by Yu Jung-Yul and James
Kimbrell (2002)<br>
_Korean Studies Review_ 2006, no. 10<br>
Electronic file: http://koreaweb.ws/ks/ksr/ksr06-10.htm</font></div>
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