Recognizing Kim Seong-Kon at the Daesan Literary Awards Ceremony

Daesan Literary Awards Logo

(Image from Daesan Foundation)

Though I didn't recognize the author Ch'oe Yun at last Friday's Daesan Literary Awards ceremony, I did happen to recognize someone else whom I'd also never met before. I had just arrived at the 20th floor of the Seoul Press Club building and greeted the translator Brother Anthony, whom I've known for years now.

To be precise, I've known Brother Anthony ever since my days at Hanshin University way back in 2001, when I first learned of his Sogang University website and contacted him by email about something or other having to do with English literature. I think that I was asking his advice about how to establish myself as a literary scholar in Korea since my background was history and religious studies. I can't say that I've been especially successful, academically, but I have managed to publish regularly as a scholar and critic . . . which might or might not be relevant to this anecdote.

At any rate, I greeted Brother Anthony, who told me that he couldn't stay for the ceremony due to the scheduled weekly prayers required by his Taize monastic community. He had decided to make a brief early appearance at the celebration because he had also served as a literary judge on the same board as I. Anyway, as we were speaking, Brother Anthony stopped a Korean man who was passing by and started to introduce us. I didn't catch the man's name, but he looked so familiar that I was certain that I had seen him before. As we shook hands, I said:

"You look very familiar. Perhaps we've met at a conference?"

I looked more closely as his face came into focus for me, and I knew who he was.

"Oh, now, I recognize you from your photo. You write for the newspaper! I read your weekly column."

The man looked briefly puzzled, then realized what I was talking about.

"Ah, the Korea Herald."

"Right," I agreed. "I really enjoy your column."

We then parted, and I was feeling good about having recognized the man's face since I'm often very poor at placing people's names and faces. In fact, I once failed to recognize the president of Korea University when he greeted me in the hallway outside my Korea University office even though he had personally interviewed me only weeks before when I had applied for my position there. That was one of my most embarrassing moments. In my defense, I should note that I had been up since 3:00 a.m. that morning, grading student essays.

I was thus feeling good -- as I said -- about recognizing the columnist's face. I recalled, also, that he was a professor at Seoul National University. I could not, however, dredge up his name, but a few minutes later, as I sat down at my table, he showed up again and handed me his card.

"Kim Seong-Kon," I read aloud, then rummaged around in my bag for my own cards and handed him one.

He looked at it carefully, then exclaimed, "Ah, the famous Dr. Hodges!"

I laughed, assuming that he was joking, and we parted again. But I then wondered if he had been joking. I had probably better hope so, for if I'm 'famous', then my fame is likely to be of the infamous sort since I've done nothing here in Korea to gain any positive fame.

But rather than go into the details of my infamy, I'd better just leave things at that . . .

Meeting Ch'oe Yun

Ch'oe Yun

(Image from Columbia University Press)

On Friday evening, I attended the Daesan Foundation's annual literary awards ceremony because I had acted as one of the judges for the best recent English translation of Korean literature. This might sound surprising to those who know me since they also know how dreadful my Korean is. I am also surprised. I can only surmise that the generous Daesan people wanted my participation on the committee of judges as a literary critic who is also a native speaker of English.

At any rate, I was a judge (제프리 하지스) and was given the enjoyable opportunity to read about ten volumes of mostly fine Korean writing in English translation. Selecting a best volume was not easy, but I think that the right choice was made in awarding the Daesan Literary Award for Translation to Bruce Fulton and Ju-Chan Fulton for their translation of Ch'oe Yun's volume of three stories, There a Petal Silently Falls. This volume is published by Columbia University Press, which well describes its contents:

In this collection's title work, There a Petal Silently Falls, Ch'oe explores both the genesis and the aftershocks of historical outrages such as the Kwangju Massacre of 1980, in which a reported 2,000 civilians were killed for protesting government military rule. The novella follows the wanderings of a girl traumatized by her mother's murder and strikes home the injustice of state-sanctioned violence against men and especially women. "Whisper Yet" illuminates the harsh treatment of leftist intellectuals during the years of national division, at the same time offering the hope of reconciliation between ideological enemies. The third story, "The Thirteen-Scent Flower," satirizes consumerism and academic rivalries by focusing on a young man and woman who engender an exotic flower that is coveted far and wide for its various fragrances.

Despite my ardent appreciation of these well-written and well-translated stories, I committed the faux pas of failing to recognize the author herself although she was seated beside me at dinner during the awards ceremony. Actually, my failure is not so surprising in itself. I had never seen a photograph of Ch'oe Yun. The actual false step was in failing to recognize her name when we exchanged cards:

"Only two names?" I remarked. "That's unusual for a Korean. Koreans usually have three, don't they?"

"It's a pen name," she explained.

"Oh," I said. "What have you written?"

"The translation of my book," she explained, smiling, "was awarded this year's literary prize."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "That's you! I was one of the judges."

"Did you like the book?" she asked, still smiling.

"Very much," I assured her.

The forgiving Ms. Yun and I then had a most interesting conversation, which I probably shouldn't detail here since she is somewhat of a public figure, and our talk was likely considered off the record. Suffice it to say that we spoke of our years in Europe and the changes that we've seen wrought there by immigration and multiculturalism, particularly the widespread disappearance of Christianity's cultural influence in much of Europe.

More important, anyway, is her writing, so here are the opening lines -- translated by the Fultons -- from There a Petal Silently Falls:

As you pass by the grave sites scattered throughout the city, you may encounter her, a girl whose maroon velvet dress barely covers her, a girl who lingers near the burial mounds. Please don't stop if she approaches you, and don't look back once she's passed you by. If your eye should be drawn to the flesh showing between the folds of that torn soiled dress, or drawn to something resembling a wound, walk away with downcast eyes as if you hadn't seen a thing.

If that interests you -- and I do quite like it -- then read more at what the Google Books site offers. With respect to this translation, I should note that I also met the translators, Bruce Fulton and Ju-Chan Fulton, but had little chance to speak with them, as they sat at a different table, though I did manage to express my admiration for their work, which was outstanding.

But you can see for yourself . . .

Americans learning a little history . . .

Korean Academy for Educators

(Image from Korea Herald)

Speaking as a historian, I'm all for people learning more history. Indeed, if folks generally were more interested in history, I'd likely have an academic position somewhere teaching that subject . . . rather than one in which I spend my time trying to teach students the fundamentals of essay writing. So when An Ji-yoon reported in the Korea Herald on "Educating U.S. teachers about Korea" (November 26, 2009), I thought that this sounded like a good thing:

The Korea Academy for Educators is a private, nonprofit, nonpartisan organization based in Los Angeles, dedicated to informing American educators about Korean history and culture and the general Korean-American experience in order to promote cross-cultural understanding.

I especially appreciate the fact that the Korea Academy for Educators (KAE) is nonpartisan . . . or is it? Mary Connor, director of the KAE, offers an example of what they teach:

"For instance, Koreans should work to educate Americans about . . . the role of the U.S. in Korean history and the fact that we divided a country that had been unified for centuries."

I suppose that in an interview, one doesn't always speak with precision, but Ms. Connor's way of putting things doesn't sound especially nonpartisan. Saying that America divided Korea sounds remarkably like a talking point for the very partisan, 'progressive' Korean left. Based on the evidence, I'd have to agree with Robert Koehler, whose blog alerted me to this article, and echo his opinion that the KAE folks sound like the last people who ought to be teaching Americans about Korean history if the aim, as reported by An Ji-yoon, is to "ensure that Korean history and culture are correctly taught":

"In American courses on the history and culture of other countries, China and Japan are well covered, but Korea is not. This is one of the main reasons for my commitment to educating Americans about Korea. I want to help fill that void and ensure that Korean history and culture are correctly taught in American classrooms."

Teaching American instructors that the United States "divided a country that had been unified for centuries" isn't the best way to "promote cross-cultural understanding." It sounds more like one of those typical but inaccurate formulas found in politically 'correct' projects that promote American feelings of inferiority and guilt.

In a pseudonymous comment posted to Koehler's blog entry, a certain Seokso alluded in irony to the implications of expecting Americans to know detailed history on every part of the world:

Frankly, I was disgusted by my American teachers who totally failed to teach me about Korea and its important position in the world. Not only that, but they also neglected to teach units on Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria, Andorra, Angola, Antigua, Argentina, Armenia, Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan . . . . See where I'm going with this?

Netizen Kim, however, objected to Seokso's analogy:

Well, if you live in an Empire, the history book of the Empire is bound to be rather thick. It stands to reason, however, that the parts of the world that the American Empire has affected greatly (like as in millions of people dying in a war) should at least get more than a footnote treatment. Unlike, say, Andorra.

Aside from yet another instance of the currently very popular, but also very imprecise and misleading use of the term "empire," I have to agree that Netizen Kim has a point. There is, however, a downside to Americans learning more history, as I noted:

Agreed, NK. Andorra's historical drama gets sufficient attention from Max Frisch and thus needs no additional scrutiny from the US, especially given the American way of learning about foreign countries. I believe that it was Ambrose Bierce who quipped that "War is God's way of teaching Americans geography," so all of you out there grousing that Americans are still too ignorant of the world, take care in what you wish for . . . you might just get it.

Let's keep that in mind . . .

Turkey Day Joke

Turkey

Yeah, I know, today's not Turkey Day here in Korea, but for all of you readers from the States, this is the day . . . as I was reminded just this morning by an email from a fellow hillbilly still residing in the Ozarks who sent me a joke:

A game warden was driving down the road when he came upon a young boy carrying a wild turkey under his arm.

He stopped and asked the boy, "Where did you get that turkey?"

The boy replied, "What turkey?"

The game warden said, "That turkey you're carrying under your arm."

The boy looks down and said, "Well, lookee here, a turkey done roosted under my arm!"

The game warden said, "Now look, you know turkey season is closed, so whatever you do to that turkey, I'm going to do to you. If you break his leg, I'm gonna break your leg. If you break his wing, I'll break your arm. Whatever you do to him, I'll do to you. So, what are you gonna do with him?"

"The little boy said, 'I guess I'll just kiss his ass and let him go!"

I found this amusing, but I was kind of baffled by part of the punch line, so I inquired of my friend:

Kiss the turkey's ass? How'd a damn donkey get into this story?!

I'm still waiting to hear the answer, and I'm sure that all of you are, too. Meanwhile, have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Guess he didn't see that one coming . . .

Breaking 'Noose' from Saudi Arabia

(Image from Yahoo News)

As a foreigner in Korea, I occasionally complain about how I'm treated by the Koreans. For instance, from my wife and kids -- Korean citizens all -- I don't get no respect! Yes, there's a dangerous field rigged with landmines awaiting the unwitting foreigner who treads too boldly into Korean territory.

But for those foreigners here who complain overmuch, consider the words of that expat Belial in Paradise Lost 2.163-164:

. . . is this then worst,
Thus sitting, thus consulting . . . ?

Exactly right! We foreigners here in Korea can sit around our computers debating pretty freely about our future prospects in this country, and things really don't look so bad. Things could indeed be much worse. Look what's happening to this forward-looking fellow who recently visited Saudi Arabia:

A man has been sentenced to death in Saudi Arabia for witchcraft because he makes predictions on television.

Ali Sibat is not even a Saudi national. The Lebanese citizen was only visiting Saudi Arabia on pilgrimage when he was arrested in Medina last year.

A court in the city condemned him as a witch on November 9.

The only evidence presented in court was reportedly the claim he appeared regularly on Lebanese satellite issuing general advice on life and making predictions about the future.

The poor fellow is clearly innocent since he manifestly failed to foresee the consequences of stepping onto Saudi territory! At most, he should only have been found guilty of 'charlatanry', for that carries a lighter punishment:

In 2006 a Jeddah court convicted an Eritrean national Muhammad Burhan for "charlatanry" because he possessed a phone book that contained writings in the Tigrinya alphabet used in Eritrea . . . . [Prosecutors] classified the booklet as a "talisman" and the court accepted that as evidence, sentencing him to 20 months in prison and 300 lashes.

If only the incarcerated Mr. Burhan hadn't demanded his right to a phone call, the Saudi police might never have noticed that 'talisman'. So much for its talismanic powers! But I'd bet that Mr. Sibat is dying for a punishment as light as those 300 lashes, given that he'd also be provided with 20 months to recuperate.

Remind me -- if I should happen to forget -- never to go teach English in Saudi Arabia . . . and never to forget how good we foreigners have it here in South Korea.

Ansar Al-Mujahideen: Communiqué on Nidal Malik Hasan

Ansar Al-Mujahideen Jihadist Forum

(Image via Memri: Special Dispatch No. 2667)

The Memri website, usually a site that translates Islamist announcements from various languages into English, has this time reported on an Islamist communiqué that was itself already released in English by the Ansar Al-Mujahideen jihadist forum. I've borrowed the Ansar Al-Mujahideen image via Memri, but a fuller viewing of the printed text justifying Hasan's attack on his fellow soldiers at Fort Hood is available on the site Internet Archive (or even at Ansar Al-Mujahideen itself).

I think that I should point out that in addition to the usual Islamist support for Hasan's action, Ansar Al-Mujahideen's reasoning would implicitly have supported Hasan even if he had not been in the US military and had instead opened fire in a shopping mall. Here's the reasoning:

The general principle is that it is not allowed for the Muslims to live permanently in the lands of the infidels.

This general principle allows of exceptions, but only if Muslims can practice Islam properly:

There are scholars who have stated its permissibility, but with the condition that the Muslim is able to practice the tenets of his religion properly, from the most important of which is matters of alliance and disavowal (al-wala wal-bara -- the clear declaration of alliance with the believers and enmity and disassociation from the disbelievers). For most people living amongst the polytheists, this is not something possible.

Islamists such as those at Ansar Al-Mujahideen would argue that Muslims cannot properly practice Islam while living amidst the polytheists -- among whom they include Christians as tri-theists -- for Muslims in a polytheistic society are not allowed to follow shariah fully.

The Islamist implication from this inability to practice Islam properly is then derived from the Qur'an:

They ask you concerning fighting in the Sacred Months. Say, "Fighting therein is a great (transgression) but a greater (transgression) with Allah is to prevent humankind from following the Way of Allah, to disbelieve in Him, to prevent access to the Sacred Mosque, and to drive out its inhabitants, and fitnah is worse than killing . . ." ('Al-Baqarah: 217)

The "Sacred Months" were those months of the year when fighting was not allowed, according to Arabic custom, but some Muslim followers of Muhammad ambushed a Meccan caravan during that sacred period -- if I recall correctly -- whereupon Muhammad 'received' a revelation justifying the attack as having been prompted by Meccan restrictions on the practice of Islam. What is meant by fitnah? Let's see what the Islamists of Ansar Al-Mujahideen say:

Mujahid and others said that the word fitnah here means disbelief, meaning, "your disbelief is worse than our killing them." The majority said, "The meaning of fitnah here is putting Muslims through trials which may turn them away from Islam and be destroyed," and that this is a greater crime than their killing in the forbidden months.

The Islamists present two possible interpretations, fitnah as disbelief on the part of non-Muslims and fitnah as trials imposed by non-Muslims upon Muslims. The former would legitimate the actions of any Muslim in attacking and killing any non-Muslim. But this is a minority view, as even the Islamists of Ansar Al-Mujahideen acknowledge. The latter interpretation, however, is not much better, for any restriction upon shariah could be viewed as a 'trial' that might turn Muslims away from Islam.

Since a secular society like that of the United States does restrict shariah, and that severely, then according to the reasoning employed by the Islamists of Ansar Al-Mujahideen, Hasan would have been permitted to kill Americans even if he had not been a US soldier and even if he had opened fire not on a military base but even in a shopping mall.

Or in a church. Or a synagogue. Or a Buddhist temple. Or anywhere.

Saudi Liberal Mansour Al-Hadj on Shahid Intercession

Medina Mosque

Saudi Arabia

(Image from Wikipedia)

I've previously noted that contrary to what one ordinarily hears of Islamic teaching about the limits of sacrifice -- namely, that one person cannot act as a redemptive sacrifice for another, which is stated as an objection to the Christian view of Christ's vicarious sacrifice -- Islam also has a view similar to the Christian one.

One finds this view expressed most often in Islamist writing. According to Memri (Special Dispatch, No. 2663), the "reformist writer Mansour Al-Hadj, one of the . . . senior reporters [for the liberal Muslim e-magazine Aafaq], described the Islamist education he received as a youth in Saudi Arabia, which stressed the culture of death and the glorification of martyrs." Here's the money quote on intercession by the shahid (martyr):

"[In Saudi Arabia], we were also taught that every martyr has six privileges . . . . [the sixth being that] he can intercede on behalf of 70 of his relatives, [ensuring that they join him in Paradise after their death]."

The intercession here means that the martyr's death qualifies him to act as a redemptive intercessor based on his sacrifice of his own life, which earns paradise not only for him but even for seventy relatives.

Actually, there's a lot to sort out on this point, not just precisely what the 'redemptive' act entails -- in what way it is redemptive and what the redemption is from -- but also what Muslims mean when they deny the Christian view of Christ's redemptive act . . . and in fact, I'd like to find an instance of the denial, now that I think about it.

But not this morning, for work calls.

Inherent Vice: Laced with Acid?

Laced with Acid?

(Image from ThomasPynchon.com)

There's a rumor going around that Pynchon's Inherent Vice has a punctuation mark laced with acid.

Since I consider this rumor questionable, might the punctuation in question be a question mark? Certainly out of the question is a dash -- an acid trip lasts a long time -- so perhaps we should consider a period. The Brits call this a full stop. That sounds too final. Like a bad trip with an even-worse-than-penultimate end. Let's stick with American terminology on this point. Yet even a period looks objectionable . . . so final. More to the point is a comma, the pause that refreshes. But this all sounds like a load of BS: colon therefore. Or it might be only half BS; semicolon is then the sign.

Still, I'm merely guessing, and your wild stab (quotation mark? hyphen? ellipse?) is as good as mine, but we won't be left wondering for long, I'd wager, since some individual from among the great hordes of Pynchonatical fans will surely test the truth of this rumor, though not by licking every single mark of punctuation in the book's entire 384 pages, oh no, for licking is too superficial -- the only sure method is to completely chew up that first period at sixteen words into the novel and then each succeeding punctuation mark until the very one sought for is found (or proven by empirical taste test not to exist) . . . and some Pynchonite will surely attempt this feat.

Pynchon's Inherent Vice -- it's a trip!

Research Paper Spot: Translating into English

Official Logo

Yesterday, I praised the Research Paper Spot (RPS) essay mill service for their clever business strategy of offering papers written so poorly as to be indistinguishable from the poorly written papers that students themselves actually write. One of my colleagues, however, has pointed me to a sentence in the RPS advertisement that slightly alters my opinion:

In order to serve you at crest and in order reduce every single inch of skeptics we ensure you with . . .

This is worse than the writing of actual students. It doesn't even sound quite like English! I therefore suggest that the RPS professionals have gone too far in their laudable aim of writing badly.

Now, suppose that you're a student who's already purchased a research paper from RPS, and you realize that the paper is too poorly written to be credible. What do you do? Despite the RPS guarantee, you're unlikely to get your money back or to obtain a perceptibly better written paper, so I suggest that you translate the paper into slightly better English. Not good English, of course, for that would defeat the aim of fooling your professor. Just a bit better so that you don't fail the course.

Naturally, you won't wish to waste your valuable time translating the paper yourself. You'll want to use an online service . . . like Google Translate. By way of demonstration, let's again take the sentence in question:

In order to serve you at crest and in order reduce every single inch of skeptics we ensure you with . . .

Let's now use Google Translate to turn it into German and then back into English to see if a better sentence emerges:

To serve you to comb and to reduce every single centimeter of skeptics we are sure that you are with . . .

Note that the unit of measurement has been reduced from the inch to the centimeter -- a more global standard of skepticism, to be sure, and Kilomètres Deboutish would stand proud, even if Quentin Tarantino might be royally put out -- but the sentence is not appreciably improved. Let's take this new version and try the same Germanic trick again:

In order to serve you and to comb every single centimeter of the skeptics, we are sure that you cut with . . .

Grooming your skeptical professor in simian fashion might work wonders . . . but there may actually be some post-summer-of-love rule against that sort of teacher-student interaction at your university, so let's try this newer version and go the Germanic route again:

In order to serve you and for every single inch of the skeptics comb, we are sure that you cut. . .

That sounds a bit worse, just too ironic an inch Teutonic, actually, so I'd suggest either you either go 'ape-shite' or try a different language than German at this juncture. Take this newest version, and translate it into, say, Korean and back:

Comb every single inch in order for the skeptics, we cut you make sure you provide . . .

I suspect that your professor won't appreciate the implied physical threat in this one. Let's go back a step and try through Chinese:

In order to meet you and skeptical per inch of comb, and we believe you qualify . . .

Believe? Merely believe?! You better know that your professor qualifies! Go back a step, and try through Hebrew:

To serve you for every inch of the comb skeptics, we're sure that you cut . . .

Hmmm . . . "comb skeptics" . . . . Rather intriguing to imagine skeptics who disbelieve in the existence of combs. But your professor might be a comb believer, and you won't want to alienate the one who'll be grading 'your' paper. Go back a step, and try now through Arabic:

In order to serve you and every single inch of comb skeptical, and we are sure that you cut . . .

Very close in wording to what we arrived at through the Hebrew route. I think that the Israelis and the Palestinians are close to an agreement! There's just that disagreeable inch between "skepticism" and "skeptical," but a road map might get us through that remaining distance, given sufficient time, a measure of good will, and a series of trust-building procedures.

But I'm getting into geopolitics here, which goes far beyond my original purpose, and you surely see by now what to do in your own attempt at ever-so-slightly tweaking that anglically challenged RPS paper to make it look like something in English that you yourself might have written.

By way of reminder, let's summarize. Take your paper. Use Google Translate. Pick the language of your choice. Experiment. Enjoy.

Plagiarism: "victim of the blow"?

Custom Research Paper

(Image from Research Paper Spot)

The time of the academic year has rolled around when a student's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of that procrastinated paper, but as you see from the above advertisement, help is merely a cursor click away! One need only go to this Research Paper Spot (RPS), purchase a "100% NON PLAGIARIZED research paper," and obtain "A Guarantee on an A Grade Paper"!

You can trust RPS because the staff offers not just expertise, but even empathy:

Are you also a victim of the blow listed 5 Research Paper writing problems?

Such a heartfelt word: "the blow listed"! The people at RPS worry about your status as "victim of the blow." Here's the first of the problems listed 'blow':

Where to find Research Papers Help when you are writing a Collage Research Paper for the first time?.

I don't assign 'collage' homework, but many of my students turn in cut-and-paste papers anyway, which is easy enough these days with the proximity of the ubiquitous internet. Such students usually get caught, often quite easily, but not those smart students who turn to RPS:

We GUARANTEE you a 100% NON PLAGIARIZED Research Paper so that you may not have to feel mortified in front of your supervisor for copy and pasting.

But beware of promises guaranteed with the modal verb "may" . . . and of implicit promises that you'll no longer be the object of idolatrous reverence:

Finally accelerate towards a high quality custom written Research paper without squandering the time sitting idol against web browsers, e-books, journals, articles etc.

Or was this supposed to say that you can now accelerate without sitting idle, whereas one previously had to sit idle while accelerating? I guess that RPS also means "revolutions per second" -- the rate at which those accelerating engines turn! At any rate, the RPS folks offer not only the above-mentioned "Collage Research Papers" but also even "College Research Papers," and they reveal their expertise in a section labeled "Common Problems for College Research Papers":

Nowadays, Students are worried about their research papers especially college students as it directly affects their academic career, these papers need to be unique along with lots of research, efforts and time consumption. It must follow the academic standards like if you are writing a college research paper then it should represent that it is made by a college student.

This passage not only reassures prospective customers that the RPS folks understand the problems faced by today's student, it even reveals their expertise by demonstrating the errors characteristic of typical student writing: arbitrary capitalization of common nouns, sentences spliced together by commas, and -- best of all -- weirdly expressed reasoning. But why would the RPS folks write like this? They don't do so just to reassure the typical student that they understand the typical student's writing problems. They do it because a paper written too well would alert the professor:

If you write your research paper like a master's or PhD student for your college research paper then the teacher must assume that the research paper is made by someone else not by you.

There you have it. That's why the RPS papers are guaranteed to be so badly written. A well-written paper would too obviously be a case of plagiarism.

Clever folks, those RPS people.