The latest Nobel Prize in Literature laureate has unexpected ties to the University鈥檚 literary translation press.
South Korean poet and novelist Han Kang has won the for a poetic and unsettling body of work that 鈥渃onfronts historical traumas and exposes the fragility of human life,鈥� according to the Nobel committee.
鈥淏efore my wife turned vegetarian, I鈥檇 always thought of her as completely unremarkable in every way,鈥� reads the opening line of , about a woman who believes she is turning into a plant, first published in South Korea in 2007 and translated into English in 2015.
The novel continues:
To be frank, the first time I met her I wasn鈥檛 even attracted to her. Middling height; bobbed hair neither long nor short; jaundiced, sickly-looking skin; somewhat prominent cheekbones; her timid, sallow aspect told me all I needed to know.
Tracing a woman鈥檚 descent into mental illness and neglect by her family, The Vegetarian became the first Korean-language novel to snag the International Booker Prize for fiction. That was eight years ago and the honor put Han, now the author of 13 novels and novellas, on the map for international audiences, making her a viable Nobel Prize contender.
Of course, it鈥檚 the work of literary translators that make international literature accessible to a wider audience. That鈥檚 where Rochester鈥檚 connection to this year鈥檚 Nobel laureate starts, although not in the way you might expect.
Chad Post, who heads up , the nonprofit, literary translation press at the聽, rejected 贬补苍鈥檚 The Vegetarian when her translator originally offered it to the press.
鈥淭here are a lot of other books that do the same thing, but in a more interesting way,鈥� Post explains his lack of interest. Instead, he says, he prefers the works of two other Korean authors, Bae Suah and Ha Seong-Nan.
鈥淚 think, on a stylistic level, they鈥檙e more sophisticated,鈥� he says.
But unlike twelve publishing houses that are still kicking themselves hard for turning down J.K. Rowling when she came knocking with her first Harry Potter manuscript, Post remains sanguine. 鈥淚f you start doubting yourself like that, then you get into a weird mind space where you ask yourself 鈥榃hat are you publishing for? Are you publishing because you think this will win a prize? Or are you publishing because you think this is an amazing author?鈥欌�� says Post.
A translation controversy
Choosing an author鈥檚 work to be published in translation comes down to several crucial factors beyond the quality of the work itself. Just as important, says Post, who also oversees the editorial activities at , is the translator who is attached to a particular book or author.
When it came to 贬补苍鈥檚 translator, Deborah Smith, he was thrown by a style that didn鈥檛 feel consistent across the translated manuscript of The Vegetarian. To be honest, he didn鈥檛 really love the book either.
Later, ensued when striking deviations from 贬补苍鈥檚 original Korean text compared to Smith鈥檚 English translation, which now suddenly had a British-Victorian tinge. Tim Parks, writing for The New York Review of Books, was the first to raise red flags about the translation in his article 鈥�,鈥� mincing no words: 鈥淪ometimes this mix of the uptight and the colloquial creates an awkwardness at the limits of comprehensibility,鈥� Parks lamented.
Smith, who is English, admitted freely that she had learned Korean only three years earlier, largely through translation work.
The popularity of 贬补苍鈥檚 novels, particularly The Vegetarian, got her translated into Swedish, which is likely the translation the Nobel judges read. 鈥淥f course, I don鈥檛 know what exactly they were reading,鈥� notes Post. 鈥淎s Anglophone readers, we just know what Han Kang sounds like via the lens of Deborah Smith.鈥�
Admittedly, translating literature is always a balancing act: remain too literal and one risks missing clever word puns, subtle innuendo, sly satire, or meaning that is derived from a backdrop of shared experiences, understood only in a specific country or region. But stray too far from the text and you end up writing your own work, unfaithful to the original.
In the end, Post says, the public spat over 贬补苍鈥檚 (mis)translated work, which even spawned , shone a light on issues that needed to be addressed.
鈥淚t did elevate the conversation about what constitutes a good translation,鈥� says Post.
In another twist, Open Letter鈥檚 rejection probably proved fortuitous for Han, admits Post. Hogarth, a bigger US publisher (and a Penguin Random House imprint) ended up taking on The Vegetarian instead.
鈥淚f we had published it, it probably wouldn鈥檛 have won any prizes,鈥� Post says. 鈥淏ut coming from a big press with big money behind it, it was able to get a lot more attention.鈥�
South Korea鈥檚 eyes on the Nobel Prize
While Han was by no means the favorite to win this year鈥檚 Nobel Prize, her success wasn鈥檛 a matter of chance.
About a decade ago, South Korea鈥檚 government on showcasing Korean culture to the world, aiming for nothing less than the top literary award in the world. Playing the long game, the Korean Ministry of Culture started the , a well-funded program to help promote Korean literature, and established training for professional translators. The institute鈥檚 efforts ran the gamut from funding complete translations of literary works (even before they had a publisher), to promotional grants for Korean writers to tour abroad, to grants for international editors to visit Korea.
In 2016, The New Yorker asked provocatively, 鈥溾��
We now know the answer.
Speaking of LTI Korea鈥檚 generous funding: Post was one of their invited editors. During a trip to Seoul in the winter of 2014, he not only met Deborah Smith, Han Kang’s eventual translator, but also numerous other Korean authors, agents, and publishers. As a result, Open Letter signed on the English translation of , by Korean author Bae Suah, which became the first book in the press鈥檚 Korean Series, funded by LTI Korea. Incidentally, the translator for that project was Deborah Smith.
As an aside, Post says it really wasn鈥檛 Korean literature (until now) that ended up attracting worldwide attention. Instead, the cultural phenomenon of K-pop鈥攚hich hit stratospheric heights in 2012 with the international mega hit 鈥溾�� by rapper Psy鈥攂ecame Korea鈥檚 strongest cultural ambassador, more so than any literary prize could hope to attract.
Yet, Korean literature is a force to be reckoned with. Today, Ha Seong-Nan is Open Letter鈥檚 best-known Korean author. 鈥淗er stories are psychologically creepy, and so gripping and weird in all the right ways,鈥� says Post, who admits that he prefers the works of both Ha Seong-Nan and Bae Suah over those by Nobel Prize laureate Han.
鈥淚n terms of what they contribute to international literature, Ha and Bae are more challenging and innovative, leading to more original, better books,鈥� says Post.
Including a so-called Translator鈥檚 Triptych of (published this summer), Open Letter now has more South Korean contemporary female writers than any other press.
Was it a stupid move to reject Han?
鈥淣ot the first time that has happened,鈥� Post laughs. 鈥淚 mean, we stand by our editorial vision.鈥�
The day before the announcement from Stockholm, The Guardian had picked Chinese author Can Xue, another , as the most likely winner.
鈥淲e have a ton of authors who could or have been in the running for the Nobel Prize,鈥� Post says. 鈥淵ou just you can鈥檛 win them all.鈥�
