Recent Books
Chuang-tzu: The Adventure That Crosses Through Differences
By Kang Sin-ju; Greenbee: 295pp., 14,900 Won
This book belongs to the series "Rewriting Classics," which reinterprets classic books for modern readers. "Chuang-tzu,'' along with "Tao te Ching," is the main text of Taoism and the stereotypical image of a Taoist is that of a sage living in mountains, separated from society at large.
The author, however, believes "Chuang-tzu" is most plausibly interpreted as an anarchist text that rejects any form of ultimate authority. Thus it celebrates instability as the basic condition of life, not something to flee from.
Still, celebrating instability doesn't mean that one should do anything one likes because nothing is really enduring. Rather, it means to respect whatever that is not in one's control, grasp or understanding, and allowing it to takes its own course. The author believes that Taoism helps one to overcome conflicts because a Taoist doesn't try to win over those who oppose him. He lets his opponents to oppose him, and does not try to go further.
Waiting
By Ha Jin, translated from English by Kim Yeon-su; Sigongsa: 480pp., 12,000 Won
Ha Jin is a 51-year-old Chinese-born writer who has been writing in English for less than two decades. Yet he has written a series of acclaimed books, and "Waiting," published in 1999, is perhaps his best known, being the winner of two prestigious literary awards, the National Book Awards and PEN/Faulkner Award.
It tells a story of a doctor in China who is trying to divorce his wife, in order to be with his mistress, a younger nurse. But it takes 18 years for the divorce to get through, due to the wife's refusal and Chinese communist bureaucracy, and while he eventually gets his wish to be with his mistress, it is probably not hard to guess how the story turns out.
The book can be interpreted purely symbolically; the wife may symbolize the old China, as she is presented as docile and provincial, whereas the mistress is urban and assertive, representing the new China. But it would be too crude a reading, and the book works better as an exploration of what makes a person long for something that he doesn't have; is it truly the thing that he lacks, or merely the promise of something better?
Panopticon
By Jeremy Bentham, translated by Shin Keon-su; Chaeksesang: 148pp., 4,900 won
"Panopticon" (1787) deals with British philosopher Jeremy Bentham's idea of ideal prison, which involves prisoners, used for labor to rehabilitate their social worth, being subjected to constant supervision by an unseen warden who would occupy a privileged vantage point. Of course, it is striking that this conception of prison is rather similar to modern forms of surveillance, such as closed-circuit TV, which is installed in places we wouldn't normally compare with prisons, such as workplaces, banks, malls, and even schools.
While that doesn't mean that our workplaces and malls are prisons, there is a sinister appraisal of Bentham's conception by French thinker Michel Foucault. Indeed, Bentham's text is perhaps more famous today for being discussed in Foucault's book "Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison" (1977) than for any intrinsic interest in the text itself.
To Foucault, Bentham's Panopticon signals a modern obsession with normalization of behaviors and various, diffuse forms of subjection, inherent in social life, necessary to achieve it. If one reminds oneself that Bentham's conception originated from an impulse to construct an ideal social structure, then one ends up with an interesting conclusion that there is something inherently authoritarian about such utopian impulses.
Money is a Beautiful Flower
By Park Hyeon-ju; Kimyoungsa: 244pp., 12,000 Won
How is one to review a book called "Money is a Beautiful Flower?" "Beautiful," may be the last word one would associate with money, for countless ugly deeds have been performed in the name of money. Then what does the author mean by such a provocative title? The author is a financier who accumulated a great deal of money by investing in stocks. He wants to reveal to the readers how he has achieved his feat.
In the book, there are anecdotes about his mother who taught the author that money only exists when it is in one's hands, not when it is supposed to be, and she would lend the author money only on the condition that he will pay her back with interest.
Though moneymaking is indeed a serious business for many, it seems that the author's approach is fatally lacking in any sense of perspective, as in possibly asking whether it is absolutely compulsory to make more money at any cost. The author seems to take such proposition as trivially true and it may alienate a lot of readers for whom money is not necessarily the first priority in life, let alone a beautiful flower.