After Frankfurt : Globalizing Korean Literature Continues
An Son-jae (Br Anthony)
This essay was published in Korean in the December 2005 issue of 문학사상 (Munhaksasang) pages 299 - 305
The issue of the American Publishers’ Weekly that
appeared as the 2005 Frankfurt Book Fair was closing contained an
article that every Korean publisher, journalist, and person involved in
funding translations should read. In part it said:
While the American publishers in Germany last
week might not have noticed it, the United States was not the center of
attention at the Frankfurt Book Fair. This year, that honor went to
Korea, which shelled out an estimated $13 million to conduct symposia,
build and staff booths and mount extraordinary exhibitions on Korean
literary history in a hall the size of a football field. It's no secret
that most large and medium-size American publishers—save for Harcourt
and Grove Atlantic, mostly—are not exactly devoted to publishing
literature in translation. And it's unclear that a program like this is
going to change anyone's publishing program. Of the several editors I
asked, none was taking a special look at books by or about Korea and
Koreans, and some seemed surprised that I'd even asked. (That a couple
of titles by Koreans or Korean-Americans were just bought or are
currently on submission was deemed a coincidence.) While open, in
theory, to the idea, publishers say, the realities of the
marketplace—surprise!—win out. "We have a hard enough time getting our
own books to readers," one cynic told me. "Books in translation are a
very hard sell."
And while it's true that the average American publisher can probably
count on one hand the number of translations that have turned
bestseller (Gabriel García Márquez, Peter Hoeg, the
recent Carlos Ruiz Zafón), there is a sense, at the fair, that
the American failure to embrace non–English-speaking authors is yet
another function of our arrogance and xenophobia. After all, the
thinking goes, the Spanish, French and particularly the Germans buy our
books all the time; it's as if we're expected to return the favor. But
publishing, for all its admirable, high-end and altruistic qualities,
is not about politically correct favors, it is—or it should be—about
publishing books that will sell.
Since I have so far translated into English and
published some 20 volumes of Korean literature, some of which have sold
quite well, it is not really surprising that I was one of the many
hundreds of people who went from Korea to attend the 2005 Frankfurt
Book Fair. Perhaps more surprising was the fact that the organizers saw
no reason why the Korean delegation needed to include an
English-speaking translator. I was able to go because one of the
writers I have translated invited me to go at his own expense. There
were a number of signs before I left that the preparations were fraught
with difficulties and tensions; I was duly grateful to be going without
having to worry too much about them.
I spent most of my time with some of the 40 odd writers who were sent
to give readings and participate in panel discussions in and around
Frankfurt during the Fair, following in the steps of dozens of others
who have been sent to Germany earlier this year. One thing that was
striking at the Fair was the constant presence of Korean television and
press teams at every Korea-centered event. Obviously they had been sent
to keep Korea informed, to show audiences at home heart-warming
pictures of Europeans listening with delight to Korean writers or
performers. Though sometimes, I must say, most of the people forming
the audience seemed to be Korean too. It was equally striking that at
many events, that was the only media coverage. Korea as Guest of Honor
was hot news in Korea; much less hot news in Europe, let alone North
America. The only exception , it seemed, was Ko Un, who was covered
widely, invited to important special functions, and given significant
individual attention including a front-page poem in the Frankfurter
Algemeine and a 3-page article by the United States’ former poet
laureate, Robert Hass, in the New York Review of Books.
It would be unkind and unfair to criticize, although some serious
questions will need to be answered if really 13 million dollars were
spent. Everyone involved in the preparations worked extremely hard, and
during the Fair the many volunteers from the Korean community resident
in Germany gave most generously of their time and energy. One (to me)
obvious problem was that everything in the Guest of Honor Pavilion was
in German, although probably most of the book-trade people coming to
Frankfurt during the Fair are English-speaking. The literary events too
were usually Korean / German. In contrast, there were quite a few
Book-Fair-related programs on the German TV and radio each day during
the Fair where well-known British, Canadian or American writers were
speaking in English without any translation. Perhaps Korea has not
understood yet that English is the lingua franca of Europe? As it is of
the entire world.
It was in any case rather puzzling to see the immense effort being
spent on introducing Korean literature uniquely in German to Germany
through the International Book Fair at Frankfurt, when the main thrust
should surely have been to introduce it to the whole world in English
through the Fair. Nobody seems to have thought of that. More puzzling
still was the fact that the stand of the Korea Literature Translation
Institute, the Korean government body responsible for funding
translations, was unable to provide a simple list of the Korean
literary works
currently available in German. The reason seems to be that they had
prepared a large comprehensive list covering all languages. They were,
if anything, overprepared!
Fortunately, in the Guest of Honor Pavilion, there was a long section
of racks holding some 1500 volumes of books about Korea translated from
Korean into all kinds of languages, arranged according to subject
matter. This allowed us to see that literary translation represents
only a very small proportion of the total, as is to be expected. But
there was no printed list of these books, and in fact the German
responsible for it was still adding books as the Fair was going on.
This special collection is made each year and is then offered to an
institution within the Guest of Honor country. It would be good to know
where the Korean collection is to go.
There were really two Korean special exhibitions at Frankfurt, the
Guest of Honor Pavilion near the entrance, and the Korean publishers’
display in Hall 6, among the other Asian publishers. For the business
side of the Fair, which dominates all but the last 2 days, this second
exhibition is the more important, offering world publishers a chance to
purchase future translations rights to major Korean titles while
presumably the representatives of Korean publishers are scouring the
other halls for titles they wish to publish in Korean.
Among the halls, it was Hall 8 that gave most food for thought. Here,
on a single floor, were the stands of the publishers from the
English-speaking world, the United States, Canada, and Britain, about
12 avenues each 200 yards long lined with publishers’ booths on both
sides. What is at once obvious is that ‘literature’ in our sense is of
relatively little importance amidst all the books on display. Fiction,
where it does strike the eye, is of a spectacularly popular kind, books
by world-famous authors selling hundreds of thousands of copies. Poetry
was conspicuous by its virtual absence.
Yet Korean works could be found there, if you knew where to look. Ko Un’s Buddhist Novel Hwaom-gyeong was published in English with the title Little Pilgrim during the Fair and was on display in its publisher’s booth in
avenue P, as was the volume containing Francisca Cho’s fine
translations of Manhae (Han Yong-un)’s complete poems, not far away.
In fact, 2005 has been rather an important year for the translation of
English translations of Korean literature, with over 20 volumes so far
published, compared with only 12 volumes for 2004, and 8 for 2003. I
myself have been involved in the translation of at least 5 of this
year’s volumes, including a selection of poems from Ko Un’s ‘Maninbo,’
and the novel ‘Little Pilgrim’ that waited over 10 years for a
publisher. to appear.
Part of the problem regarding opinions in Korea about translations of
Korean literature is that a lot of Koreans assert that “Nothing has
been translated” when they have no idea as to what has been translated
and published. As mentioned above, not even the 한국문학번역원 (Korea
Literature Translation Institute) has complete information available.
Perhaps a word needs to be said here about the “100-volume project.”
This project was launched by the Korean Publishers’ Association early
in 2004, and has been repeated in 2005 under the KLTI. Basically it
involves establishing a
list of some 100 Korean books, non-fiction for the most part, that are
selected for translation into a variety of languages. This project
suffers from a restricted time-frame (translations to be completed in
less than one
year), while there are questions about the quality of would-be
translators or
of completed translations. It is unsure that there is sufficient
awareness that a book written by a Korean
for Koreans then translated into a foreign tongue needs to be seriously
rewritten to take account of the readers’ lack of historical
background, and to have a Bibliography of works on that topic that are
published in the target language.
Anyone walking through the Frankfurt Book Fair is made instantly aware
that the main consideration in the world of commercial publishing is
money, financial profit. Realism tells us that there are very few
Korean works of any kind that will make a profit for their publisher if
translated into any language. Korean literature in translation joins
all world literature in translation here, with the fact that less than
3% (some say less than 1%) of all the books published in English each
year are translations from another language. French, German, or Spanish
publishers seem more universal with a figure of published translations
closer to 15% each year. But that is because they have to publish
translations from English!
Korean society is cursed by an attitude that gives value to quantity
rather than quality in almost all areas. When it comes to the
translation of literature, few seem to realize how hard it is to find a
work of modern (or ancient) Korean literature that can have wide appeal
and bring real pleasure to general readers worldwide, no matter how
well it is translated. Different cultures have different kinds of
expectations and requirements. As a result, almost all the translations
of Korean literature that are currently being published in English, at least, only appear
because of a very high level of funding. When it comes to books published in the United States, they are almost
always produced by small, non-profit publishing companies, are virtually never
reviewed, do not get stocked in major bookstores, are not advertised in
significant print-media, sell very slowly and are not reprinted once
the initial, subsidized print-run is sold out. It is at least sometimes the case that a good number of
the copies printed are sold to the author, the translator, and the funding
agency for free distribution. So true globalization is still far away.
Frankfurt 2005 will not have made much difference, despite $13 million
(or perhaps much more) being spent. Where did they go?