Novelist Running Through Time
Chapter 66

TL: KSD

“Ah.”

This was hell.

A merciless massacre was unfolding.

[I could say Baek Seol and I have been friends for a long time. Since our days at Oxford, we’ve both had a deep interest in literature. Being her senior by a year, I felt a responsibility to look after a friend who came from a faraway country…]

Baek Seol couldn’t stand to see her own author being disparaged, even if she could tolerate being bad-mouthed herself, and became furious.

Eventually, she drew her magic sword to punish the Japanese who had insulted us by ‘moving hotels.’

And it wasn’t just one.

Baek Seol first mobilized the power of Baekhak Group. Using the keyword ‘Chaebol Translator,’ she managed to monopolize all the spotlight of the event by bringing in reporters from Korea.

Secondly, she leveraged the power of her school connections. Having graduated from the Department of English Literature at Oxford, Baek Seol had an overflowing network of contacts in the UK.

Among them was the famous mystery novelist, Elisa Christin.

And Elisa Christin was currently interviewing with Korean journalists at the event venue.

All the while, the Japanese publishing house staff, looking dejected and intimidated, served as a backdrop.

No, that placement must have been intentional.

[I’ve also read ‘A Love Story’! How moving it was! And above all, it was translated so well that it was hard to tell it was a foreign work, wasn’t it?]

Then, Elisa Christin linked arms tightly with Baek Seol beside her.

[I was truly amazed! If my novels ever get published in Korea, I would definitely want Seol to translate them.]

For the record, these two are not friends.

However, Baek Seol’s roommate for two years was Elisa Christin’s younger sister.

So, Elisa Christin could be considered a business cheerleader mobilized through personal connections.

However, as it was business, the support was solid. Seeing the Booker Prize judges rush out to welcome Elisa Christin showed the influence of the reinforcements Baek Seol had brought from the UK publishing industry.

This morning,

Baek Seol said to me,

-Author~nim.

Although she was dressed more glamorously and sophisticatedly than usual, her thoughtful voice was no different from usual.

-Actually… our chances of winning are really low.

-I had guessed as much.

-Frankly speaking, we’re like pacemakers. Do you think the Booker Foundation people were unaware of the Korea-Japan relationship? Those people are really smart. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0vᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

After ‘The Vegetarian’ won the Booker International Prize in 2016, the Booker Prize became very famous in Korea, and they all know that. So, since then, there’s always been at least one Korean among the nominees.

Of course, it’s possible that the novels were selected because they’re genuinely good… but the issue of Korea and Japan competing for the Booker Prize certainly benefits the Booker Foundation. And they almost certainly anticipated that such a situation would arise.

Of course, Baek Seol didn’t bring this up to discourage me.

-But, Author~nim. Why is the Booker Prize so great? Isn’t it because it becomes well-known throughout the Anglophone world the moment you win it?

-If you’re talking purely commercially, yes.

-Then, even if we don’t win the Booker Prize, wouldn’t it be fine as long as we become famous?

-That’s an interesting bit of nonsense,

-Don’t worry! I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure your name appears in the news in the UK and the US at least once! Just leave it to me!

Baek Seol made that promise to me.

And so it happened.

The Japanese, who had annoyed us by merely upgrading their hotel, were unable to hold their heads up in the face of an overwhelming barrage of camera flashes and the appearance of Elisa Christin.

But I can no longer bear this dizzying atmosphere.

I fled from the Booker Foundation staff wandering in confusion, the Korean press corps excitedly snapping photos of Baek Seol, and the literary figures from 13 countries wondering what all this commotion was about today.

But there’s no paradise in running away.

I finally encountered him while looking for a place to catch my breath, having fled.

“Huh?”

The elderly man smoking a cigarette on the building’s railing, author Eisaku Siedehara.

“You… no, are you perhaps Author Moon?”

“Ah, hello.”

EP 5-A Love Story

A book is a tool filled with thoughts.

This tool influences the mind of the reader who delves into it.

Especially if the book manages to touch the reader’s heart in a very convincing manner, it leads the reader to sympathize with the author’s thoughts, changing themselves in the process.

The world calls this ‘education,’

but Eisaku Siedehara thought of it as ‘infection.’

This realization came from experiencing Japan’s imperialist militaristic education, the directives of the American military government, and modern Japan’s democratic education.

Education is a concept closer to violence than to peace.

Something foreign forces its way into a person’s thoughts, aiming to correct the native’s ideology to its own.

The truly frightening aspect of this ‘infection’ is that one is manipulated into thinking they are acting of their own free will, without even realizing they’ve been infected.

Hence, this is referred to as soft power.

Therefore, a book is a weapon.

A weapon that can be thrust upon someone to move them according to one’s will.

However, what Eisaku Siedehara wanted to create throughout his life was not weapons, but literature.

Pure literature. Beautiful literature. Literature that is distinctly Japanese.

Not books born from the intention to teach someone, but books that allow the reader to feel the joy of a boy chattering away in a comic book store during his childhood.

Not books that make one think, “Ah, I was wrong,” but books that encourage one to reflect on their inner self and find their own path.

He wanted to write such literature.

But isn’t this also violence? Isn’t this forcing Eisaku Siedehara’s philosophy of ‘not using books as weapons’ onto others?

The old novelist still hadn’t found the answer.

He might not know what is right, but he could identify what is wrong.

The most disgusting are the Koreans. Swindlers going crazy trying to make money by selling books using a child.

They are destroying many people. Whether it’s the boy used as a shield, the ghostwriters hiding in the shadows, or the Koreans who rave about a genius emerging from their country only to disown and point fingers when the truth comes out…

In the end, everyone gets hurt and loses their love for literature. The publishing scoundrels make their money and leave.

Whether it’s the Koreans putting forward a child to campaign or the British who crazily nominated that book without caring about such things, they are all ugly creatures struggling to grasp soft power.

The Japanese publishing houses aren’t without issues either. Just mentioning how things are going in the world, they suddenly cut off the import routes of Author Moon’s books.

Even if the Korean publishing industry is in a lower position compared to Japan’s, breaking a promise between people like that shouldn’t happen. It inevitably returns as bad karma.

And indeed, it did. The Korean publishers, wronged by the Japanese publishing house, publicized the incident to condemn Japan and stirred up public opinion within their own country.

Not to mention, the current messy struggle is needless to say. Why provoke people who were minding their own business to death.

What in the world is the Booker Prize that it has come to this?

What in the world are money, power, and prestige that…

It’s utterly pathetic.

-This is what Eisaku Siedehara thought.

However, there’s no need to hate the children caught up in the dirty affairs of these adults.

Eisaku Siedehara said, with a slightly mushy Korean accent, but as someone aware his foreign language pronunciation wasn’t perfect, he did his best to speak clearly.

“Nice to meet you. I am Eisaku Siedehara.”

“Nice to meet you too. You speak Korean very well.”

“Thank you.”

The Author Moon he coincidentally met behind the venue of the Booker International Prize looked smaller than expected.

Somewhere between a boy and a child in appearance, perhaps. Yet, the mature atmosphere unique to a boy wrapped in a blanket made him seem like something between a boy and an adult.

As Eisaku Siedehara gazed at the boy with a curious look, the boy spoke.

“I really enjoyed ‘Harvest and Decay.'”

“Ah, is that so? It was a difficult book. Thank you.”

A common courtesy.

Contrary to his words, Eisaku Siedehara let the greeting pass with indifference.

At least, until this moment.

“The concept of succession analyzed politically was fascinating. The conclusion that one existence cannot transfer everything to another… left a deep impression. The importance of one’s own identity, but also the misunderstandings that arise from it. Did you choose to set the protagonist as a politician to highlight these themes? Somehow, since all characters in the story desire power yet are wounded by it, their somewhat unrealistic and avant-garde actions felt completely natural. It seems you’ve constructed the structure of the novel very solidly. The way you explained the differences between common law and civil law by comparing them to human nature was also memorable. Ultimately, it’s a metaphor that directly connects to the theme of differences between people, and what passes between them, right?”

“Huh?”

* * *

A linguistic genius.

That’s the nickname of Eisaku Siedehara, who speaks several languages fluently.

However, this was just a nickname the media came up with to satisfy a portion of the Japanese public who admired yet envied Tolkien, proclaiming, “Japan has its Tolkien too!”

Eisaku Siedehara learned multiple languages not because of some genius talent but out of necessity, picking them up hurriedly through crash courses whenever required.

Thus, Eisaku Siedehara couldn’t understand about half of what the enthusiastic Author Moon was saying.

But lacking the courage to say, “I know Korean, but I don’t know all the difficult words, and if you speak so fast, I can’t understand, so please slow down,” Siedehara nodded along with a serious expression.

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

Even if he didn’t understand everything, he could tell this child had a professional level of understanding of his novel.

But as he looked at the boy with disbelief,

the boy said something Eisaku couldn’t simply overlook.

“Perhaps because it’s your last work? Trying to encapsulate all your philosophies as a writer into one book was too apparent, which I guess could be considered a flaw. Of course, the pace of the novel wasn’t loose, but the intention being so visible was a bit…”

“Wait.”

Eisaku was startled as if he had seen a ghost.

Anyone would react this way if a well-kept secret suddenly spilled from the mouth of someone entirely unexpected.

“H-how? Did you, did you, know? Did you know?”

“What?”

“I haven’t even told my children that this novel is my last work…”

Eisaku Siedehara stammered, accidentally murmuring personal details he didn’t need to reveal, flustered.

‘Harvest and Decay’ is his last novel. Over the years, as he refined the work, he thought of it as his literary will as a writer.

But how could a child from a neighboring country know this intimate secret?

The boy, with an air of inherent sharpness in his gaze, replied.

“Well, I read it in the book.”

As if struck in the back of the head with a hammer, Eisaku Siedehara was shocked by the boy who, annoyingly, disappeared like the wind.

“Well then, goodbye.”

Eisaku stood silently, looking at the place where the boy had left. Was it all just a dream? No.

As he slowly reflected on what had just happened,

“Ah.”

Eisaku Siedehara was convinced that all the unbelievable rumors related to this boy were true.

Then,

“My goodness.”

What on earth had he done to this boy?

*****

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