← Back to novel
A genius writer who lives again

Chapter 131

Reader mode with saved preferences, scroll memory and mobile navigation.
Text
Theme
Width
Tools
Navigation

I’ve been feeling it firsthand these past few days.


The controversy over Two Histories has intensified in Germany.


And that controversy… didn’t stop in Germany; it spread across Europe.


The first place to react was the website.


I had uploaded Crossroads in English a while ago.


Of course, after getting Munich’s approval.


Although there was no comment system to know for sure,


the number of payments on the English page increased dramatically.


Crossroads isn’t the kind of work that would interest English-speaking readers.


It was probably the Europeans, including Germans, who flocked to see it.


And my guess wasn’t wrong.


I received an unexpected phone call.


― Hello, this is Jean Stephan.


Jean Stephan, an employee from the French Libre Publishing House.


I was thrilled by his call.


“Stephan! It’s been a while! How’s everyone doing?”


― Of course. I heard you recently published a fantastic piece in Germany? Even in Paris, the publishing world is buzzing about the book.


Two Histories, right?”


― Yes. Till Berkel is a well-known philosopher in France. His interview was so provocative, and… didn’t you also add a brilliant remark? It even made it onto the French news. It’s all the talk.


It wasn’t surprising.


A German philosopher mentioned “Nazis,”


and a Korean author compared some Germans to “Judas.”


I knew Germany was still in an uproar over it.


But how would other European countries react?


I was curious.


“I’m curious about the public opinion on Crossroads. How do people in France and other European countries feel?”


― France can’t represent all of Europe, but… in the French literary world, they’re saying Crossroads presents a new perspective on history.


“A new perspective…?”


― The inner wounds left by war. External wounds can be healed, but inner wounds can never be repaired, as you showed. The contradictory feelings you described in Crossroads were very striking to me. The emotions of having to choose between one’s country and personal desires, feelings that persist even today.


Jean Stephan wasn’t free from those feelings himself.


Like many Korean immigrants, he likely felt a complex emotion about Korea.


― Of course, countries in Europe that suffered from colonial experiences or the Second World War can deeply relate to that emotion.


“If that’s true, I couldn’t ask for more.”


― It’s clear. Believe me. Germany is noisy, but many European countries are genuinely surprised in a positive way by your work. A piece that strikes at the heart of European history… who would have expected that from the East?


“Thank you for saying that. I’ve been quite troubled lately.”


That was true.


Since the newspaper interview, I have felt like I was on a chopping block.


I thought I had said what I needed to say, and I didn’t regret it… but the uncertainty about how much support I would get.


As a human, one can’t be free from such feelings.


But why did Jean Stephan contact me?


He couldn’t just be relaying France’s reaction.


Just as I was wondering, Jean Stephan spoke.


― By the way… you’ll be publishing Crossroads in France, won’t you?


Ah.


Now I understood.


Jean Stephan was reaching out to discuss a publishing contract.


In other words, a sales call.


Well, if it was this thoughtfully done, I’d welcome it.


I responded playfully.


“Of course, I was planning to publish it with Libre, but… is it possible that Libre had other plans?”


― Ah! Hahaha… No, of course not. We’ve been planning to publish your work all along. I just wanted to confirm. Just confirming.


He answered with a bright voice, though flustered.


Jean Stephan, who had successfully made a sales pitch by accident.


He added, “Don’t worry about Europe,”


and cheerfully ended the call.


Not just Libre, but several other European publishers had also contacted me.


All of them wanted to publish Crossroads.


I consulted with Jihoon and chose the publishers.


Some of them had contracts with Till Berkel as well.


Since The Black Castle and Crossroads go hand in hand,


we prioritized those publishers.


Now, the only remaining place… was Japan.


“I feel like I’ve been waiting a long time.”






I was in the process of finalizing the choice of a publisher.


I casually mentioned it to Jihoon.


“Huh? What do you mean?”


“Japan. Domark Publishing.”


“…You still haven’t heard from them?”


“No.”


“That’s just wrong. If they’re not going to do it, they should just say no. It’s so inconsiderate.”


“They probably haven’t made a decision yet. Not still.”


“It’s frustrating.”


Jihoon grumbled as he gathered the publisher’s materials.


“Why don’t we contact another publisher instead?”


“No, for now, I need to get a clear answer from Domark.”


“…Should I send them a follow-up email?”


“No.”


I shook my head.


“It’s not about following up. It’s about making them make a decision.”


The next morning.


I checked my mobile call logs, messages, and social media for the last time.


Domark was still silent.


There was no longer any reason to hesitate.


I called Editor Mitsuharu.


Normally, the phone would be answered before it even rang five times.


But for some reason, there was a long pause before he picked up.


Still, he was a businessman.


Just as I was considering hanging up, the call connected.


― …Is this the writer?


It was Mitsuharu, but his tone was unlike usual.


“Editor, how have you been? I was calling to ask something... Is it a good time to talk?”


― …Yes, of course. There’s something I need to tell you too…


It was decided.


Having worked with Mitsuharu before, I could tell from his voice.


“Looks like it’s going to be difficult to publish Fork in the Road through Domark.”


― Ah… Ah… I’m really sorry, Writer.


As expected.


He seemed genuinely sorry and didn’t know what to do.


I stayed silent.


I had expected this, but I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.


“If you had let me know earlier, I could have looked for another publisher. It’s a shame.”


― Ah! Please don’t misunderstand. The decision was only made a day ago. There were a lot of discussions at the board meeting.


“What kind of discussions took place at the board?”


I asked directly.


He seemed flustered.


It wasn’t proper for an editor to share internal discussions with the author.


But I had waited a long time.


Surely, I had the right to know what had happened.


― Huh… Sharing internal matters with you is also a plea not to misunderstand us. You understand what I mean, right?


“I’d still like to hear it.”


― We didn’t make this decision out of unnecessary concerns.


He paused and began telling a story.


― A few years ago, there was an incident in Japan. An essayist had written a truly good essay. It was about a very poor family she had investigated... It was about people who were abused coming together to form a fake family and receiving pensions. Eventually, they were caught, and the fake family was disbanded, and the people returned to their abusive real families…


Ah, I know that essay.


It was praised for capturing the overlooked lower class in Japanese society, the ones society pretends not to see.


The essay overcame the limitation of being a “personal narrative.”


― The essayist received recognition abroad and won many awards, but… not in Japan. She endured more criticism than expected. There were even calls to expel the essayist from Japan. The publishing house that published that essay struggled for a while and eventually closed down.


“The publishing house closed down?”


To that extent?


Even if the story was uncomfortable for the Japanese, the essay was just the author’s perspective.


― …Yes, this is the reason.


Mitsuharu spoke with difficulty, almost as if ashamed.


― Why would you write such an essay and bring shame to the country… It’s shameful to embarrass the country like that… That was the reaction.


I was speechless.


I knew Japan was conservative but to this extent?


Now I could somewhat understand why Domark had delayed their answer.


― Japan doesn’t take essays lightly. They believe that an essay transparently shows the author’s thoughts, which is why the readers are so deeply immersed. The popularity of your Living Again is a similar case. But like the flip side of a coin, when an essay becomes controversial, both the author and the publisher suffer significant damage… Therefore, Domark has decided to reject the publication of Fork in the Road. I’m sorry, Writer.


...I see.


“…It’s alright, Editor.”


It wouldn’t be right to push for a publisher to publish a book.


Although I had somewhat expected it, an indescribable bitterness washed over me.


Eventually, I came to understand the nature of that feeling.


It was the feeling of having my past life, contained in Crossroads, rejected.


That was it.


And instinctively, I realized that there was only one way to shake off this situation and feeling.


"Editor."


― Yes, writer.


"I’m thinking of writing another novel soon."


― ...Pardon? Ah, yes.


What is he talking about all of a sudden?


Mitsuharu, the editor, must have been thinking that.


"It’ll be another novel set in Gyeongseong during the Japanese occupation, just like Crossroads."


― Ah...


He hesitated to respond.


He probably thought it wasn’t something he should comment on.


"I’m not making this decision with Japanese readers in mind. It’s just that after being rejected, what I want has become clearer."


― I see.


It wasn’t that I wanted to write a novel just because they wouldn’t publish my essay.


I wanted to write something that everyone—Japanese people, no, everyone—would eventually have to read.


And I wanted to include me, or the life of Ijeong, in that work.


I told Mitsuharu, the editor:


"How about it? Should I look for another publisher to publish my novel?"


― No.


He replied reflexively.


As if he couldn’t let go of the works of Ijeong.


"I promise you one thing. I will make sure that neither Domark nor you, Mitsuharu, are harmed by this decision."


I didn’t want to write anything that would harm anyone.


There were countless ways to convey my story without being provocative.


― …Thank you, writer. When the novel comes out, I will bring the issue before the board again. I believe the decision to publish the novel will be more lenient than for the essay. Of course, I’ll also lend my support.


"...Good. Then I’ll leave it to you."


I was about to hang up the phone.


That’s when it happened.


― Ijeong, writer.


"Yes, Editor."


― …Thank you for giving Domark a chance.


I didn’t feel the need to be overly humble.


"Yes. Well, I’ll hang up now."


In fact, Domark had greatly wronged me.


They had taken the manuscript and made a verbal agreement to publish, but had dragged their feet for so long.


Any other writer would have probably held a grudge against Domark.


Not wanting to work with them again would have been the natural response.


Mitsuharu, the editor, probably expected that.


But I decided to understand Domark for now.


It wasn’t so much their problem, but rather the nature of Japan itself.


After hanging up, I thought about my new novel, which would contain the message of Crossroads, yet transcend it.





Install Fucknovelpia Add this site to your home screen for an app-like reader.