Reviews

The Wings by Yi Sang

literatureboysmelancholy's review

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dark emotional sad slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

apan's review

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dark emotional reflective sad slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A

5.0

acopytopy's review against another edition

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dark mysterious reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? N/A
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

The Wings is a disturbing and quietly tragic short story. (The other stories aren't as long or memorable.)

mollusc's review

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tense

3.5

spacestationtrustfund's review

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3.0

This volume includes three stories by Yi Sang: not only 『날개』 (herein "The Wings") but also 『봉별기』(逢別記) (herein "Encounters and Departures") and 『동해』(童骸) (herein "Deathly Child"). The other two stories in the collection were translated by James B. Lee, with Ahn Jeong-Hyo (안정효) the sole translator for 『날개』. Of the few footnotes included, none were for 『날개』.

spacestationtrustfund's review against another edition

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3.0

Traduit du coréen par Son Mihae (손미해) et Jean-Pierre Zubiate, qui ont traduit aussi la Perspective à vol de corneille de Yi Sang (이상). Les traducteurs nous ont dit :
Le coréen peut se romaniser de diverses manières, selon les époques et les usages. Le système de transcription adopté dans cet ouvrage est le dernier officiellement en vigueur, dit « romanisation révisée ». En ce qui concerne les voyelles, e se dit « é », et u « ou ». Le groupe eo se prononce o comme dans « comme », le groupe eu un peu comme dans « peu », ae à peu près « è », et oe va vers « wé ». Pas de nasalisation si voyelle+n, an est « ane », un est « oune », mais nasalisation si voyelle+ng, avec escamotage du g sang s'entendant comme « sang ». Le h se prononce, le g est toujours dur, le r se roule délicatement vers le « l ». Le s a tendance à se chuinter devant i, Silla devenant quasi *Shilla. Les chuintantes ch et j song légèrement durcies à l'attaque en « tch » et « dj ». Mais en fin de compte, c'est toujours au lecteur qu'il reviendra de s'inventer sa musique du coréen en français. Les noms des auteurs sont transcrits selon leur choix. Nous suivons l'ordre du coréen qui place le nom de famille (couramment monosyllabique) avant le nom personnel (généralement bi-syllabique).

spacestationtrustfund's review against another edition

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5.0

날개야 다시 돋아라. 날자 날자 날자한 번만 더 날자꾸나한 번만 더 날아보자꾸나.
The 1936 short story 『날개』 (wing or wings) by Yi Sang (이상) has been translated into English a couple of times. These are all the translations of which I'm aware. As a metric to compare them, I'll include each's translation of the first line (『‘박제가 되어 버린 천재’를 아시오? 나는 유쾌하오. 이런 때 연애까지가 유쾌하오』), which is notoriously difficult to translate.
PETER H. LEE (1974) - "Wings"
To the best of my knowledge, Peter H. Lee's translation, first included in Flowers of Fire: Twentieth-Century Korean Stories (1974) and subsequently Modern Korean Literature: An Anthology (1990), is the first English-language publication of the story.¹ Although deservedly recognised as an influential and important translator (often credited with spearheading the development of Korean literature studies in the anglosphere), Lee's translation of 『날개』 is a bit odd. At multiple points throughout the text, sentences or even paragraphs are not translated but rather removed from the English version, with no acknowledgement or explanation.

Lee's translation of the first line: "Have you ever heard of the 'genius who became a stuffed specimen'? I'm cheerful. Even love is cheerful at times like this."
MOON HI-KYUNG (1995) - "The Wings"
Included in Modern Korean Literature: 1908-65 (ed. Chong Chung-Wha).

Moon's translation of the first line: TBA.
AN JEONGHYO (2001) - "The Wings"
This translation was first published as The Wings (2001), a volume including three stories by Yi Sang: not only 『날개』 but also 『봉별기』(逢別記) (herein "Encounters and Departures") and 『동해』(童骸) (herein "Deathly Child"). The other two stories in the collection were translated by James B. Lee, with Ahn Jeong-Hyo (안정효) the sole translator for "The Wings." Of the few footnotes included, none were for "The Wings." Ahn's translation was also republished more recently in Stories of Yi Sang (2016), for which Lee is listed as the sole author for some reason, and the anthology The Unenlightened and Other Korean Short Stories (1983).

While an improvement from the earlier translation, Ahn's translation is still lacking. Not all of this is his fault; 『날개』 is a notoriously difficult story to translate, in no small part because of Yi Sang's use of experimental language. One example of where I didn't care for Ahn's translation would be in regards to the narrator's wife's name: Yeonsim (연심), meaning "open heart" (variously written as Yŏnsim or Yon-sim). At one point the narrator uses his wife's name with the suffix -이 (-i), which connotes familiarity as well as informality, even more so than just using someone's personal name without a surname and/or honourific. For the narrator to refer to his wife as "연심이" (Yeonsim-i) suggests an intimacy at odds with the actual events. Notably, Ahn renders this as "Yon-sim," with no further explanation.

Ahn's translation of the first line: "Have you ever seen a stuffed genius? I am happy. At a time like this, even love is pleasant."
KIM MYEONGHUI (2002) - "Wings"
Included in Crow's Eye View: The Infamy of Lee Sang, Korean Poet. Only the opening and concluding paragraphs are included in Kim's book, but I wanted to mention it because I highly recommend the book in general, particularly for those interested in Yi Sang's poetry.

Kim's translation of the first line: "What do you know about a stuffed and mounted genius? I am feeling good. In this mood I even feel good about love affairs."
WALTER K. LEW & YOUNGJU RYU (2005) - "Wings"
Included in Modern Korean Fiction: An Anthology (2005), Lew's and Ryu's translation is, in my opinion, the best. The anthology itself was edited by Bruce Fulton and Kwon Youngmin, both of whom I've found to be discerning and reliable in their selection. That's really all I have to say about it, to be honest.

Lew's and Ryu's translation of the first line: "Have you heard about 'the genius who ended up as a stuffed specimen'? I'm cheerful. At moments like this, even love is cheerful."
KEVIN O'ROURKE (2015) - "Wings"
First published as Wings (2015), Kevin O'Rourke's translation is included as part of the Modern Korean Literature series by the Seoul-based ASIA Publishers. Regardless of the quality of the translation, I would recommend this version, if for no other reason than the fact that all books in the MKL series are bilingual: both the original Korean-language text and the translated English-language text are included. Furthermore, a more foreignised approach (more on that later) is adopted, not just in this translation but more broadly throughout the series, with footnotes and/or annotation serving to explain not only potentially confusing Korean words left untranslated but also words or phrases in Korean that could be confusing to a native speaker. (The story is nearly a century old, remember.) Although O'Rourke is not Korean by birth, he has not only lived in Korea for the better part of his life but also occupied a position similar to Peter H. Lee, c'est-à-dire, promoting Korean literature to anglophones.

O'Rourke's translation was probably the least domesticated (which is hardly surprising given the context), although there were several strange details, such as the decision to translate 경성역 (Gyeongseong Station) as "Seoul Station"—Gyeongseong is the historical name for Seoul, used during the Japanese colonial era—an example of both domestication and modernisation. O'Rourke also uses the McCune-Reischauer romanisation (so it would be "Kyŏngsŏng"). Ahn, on the other hand, says "Gyeongseong Station," in contrast.

O'Rourke's translation of the first line: TBA.
WHAT NOW?
Really the whole problem can be simplified by simply saying that it's necessary to read the original story in Korean. That's my basic stance on things, at least; of course, for the majority of people, I'd recommend either Lew's & Ryu's translation or O'Rourke's. In general I think Yi Sang is underappreciated in non-Korean literature studies. I'd compare him to Kafka, probably (although I've often seen him compared to Rimbaud, which I don't get at all.) But I digress.

It's interesting to see how translation conventions have shifted over the years, and how different translators approach the same text. At one point during the original text, for example, the board game 바둑 (围棋 [wéiqí]) is mentioned; the commonly used Western name is go. Ahn translates this as a game of checkers (draughts). In translation studies this sort of modification is known as functional equivalence (translating a different term with roughly the same cultural connotation and purpose but not the actual meaning). An example of another sort of modification would be, for example, the fact that the word 고무신 [gomusin] is translated as "rubber shoes" (its literal meaning) in every translation I've read, an example of descriptive equivalence (translating an explanatory term with perhaps not the same cultural connotations but explaining the cultural term within the translation). Gomusin are a specific rubber type of a traditional Korean shoe, which is not exactly explained, so some of the significance is still lost.

The difference between functional and descriptive equivalence can be viewed as roughly analogous to foreignising and domesticating translation strategies (as popularised by Lawrence Venuti). In essence a domesticated translation would remove or replace all cultural references that are not easily and automatically understood by the audience of the translated text so that it would read as smoothly and naturally as possible ("as if it were originally written in English"); a foreignised translation, on the other hand, essays to maintain the cultural differences present in a translated text, typically either (1) explaining in-line, (2) explaining in a footnote, or (3) not explaining at all and relying on the audience to put in a bit of effort. At the risk of boring everyone with the minutiae of translation ethics, I'll add this: Venuti believed, as do I, that the difference between foreignised and domesticated translations are strongly and inherently connected to an ethical choice made by the translator, as translation presents a situation in which the target language is the means through which a source culture is understood by a target culture, i.e., the English translations of Yi Sang are thus "representing" his work to an anglophone population. A wholly domesticated translation, having been made to submit to the superstrate, is therefore demonstrative of the difference in power between a source (untranslated) text and a target (translated) text.²

Interestingly, things like proper names and monetary systems were foreignised in every translation. For example: the narrator mentions that his wife would give him a 전50 coin periodically ("그러면 아내는 나에게 돈을 준다. 오십 전짜리 은화다") ; the 전 (jeon), equal to KR₩0.01 원 (won), was a currency formerly used in South Korea (and currently in North Korea). O'Rourke transliterates 전 as chŏn, which Ahn uses jeon (although he later says "penny" in an idiomatic sense, i.e., "I did not spend a penny").

Linguistically speaking, another major difference between Korean and English is the fact that Korean uses different "speech levels" to denote formality and the relationship between interlocutor. This is functionally impossible to translate into English, since English lacks an equivalent, meaning that a great deal of interplay between characters is often lost in translation, since the speech level contributes heavily to the overall atmosphere of a scene or work in its entirety. Most of 『날개』 is written in 해라체 [haelache], most commonly used in written text such as books, newspapers, magazines, television reporting, etc.; as it can be used to address all audiences regardless of their relative "rank" in relation to the speaker, 해라체 is formal but not considered especially "polite." Further complicating things is the fact that a different speech level is used in the prologue: 하오체 [haoche], a semi-formal (or "formal-lateral") style which is usually only spoken, and is also rarely used amongst modern speakers, who tend to favour 해요체 [haeyoche], the informal but polite speech level used amongst strangers younger than 60 or so. A native Korean reader would likely identify the use of this speech level as demonstrative of the fact that 『날개』 is an older text, as the use of 하오체 was more commonly used in 1930s Korea.
CONCLUSION
I would recommend Lew's & Ryu's translation to those less interested in Korean literature, and O'Rourke's to those legitimately curious about the differences. The bilingual aspect, the annotations, and the high degree of foreignisation all contribute to my positive opinion of that particular translation. Perhaps most tellingly, in my opinion, is the fact that only O'Rourke's translation really seemed to approach literature as an educational rather than purely entertaining aspect of culture... but, again, this is purely my perspective. I love Yi Sang's writing, and I'm hopeful that more good-quality English-language translations will be produced in coming years.

Bonus: I've also read a French-language translation, Les Ailes, translated by Son Mihae (손미해) and Jean-Pierre Zubiate.

//
1 I've heard also of Modern Korean Short Stories and Plays (1970), in which a version titled "Wings" and translated by a Chu Yo-sup (주요섭 Ju Yoseop) was included, but, barring WorldCat, I've not been able to find a copy in the wild. This is not to say that I don't believe it exists—I know it does—I just haven't read or otherwise encountered it and, from the looks of it, neither has anyone else in at least 30 years.
2 This particular power dynamic is also expressed by the choice made by translators—or, more commonly, publishing houses—in regards to which texts are selected for translation. More simply, source texts by marginalised groups are less often translated; more complexly, the further removed from the target language and culture a source text is, the less likely it is to be translated, thus contributing to the source culture's remaining lesser-known and -understood by the target audience. In practice this also means that works by marginalised groups are less frequently read by a majority culture, e.g., Murakami Haruki's novels are far more popular in the core anglosphere than those of Miyabe Miyuki, who is more or less his contemporary. (To be clear, I am saying nothing about the objective quality of these works; taste is a fickle and subjective thing. But works in a more "marketable" demographic are more likely to be selected for consideration even before the content is analysed than those of a demographic deemed less desirable in the target language and culture.)

anna18's review

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reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? No
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? N/A
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

3.0

luman's review

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4.0

Will definitely need to read an analysis of this at some point because I'm not sure about what I even read at some parts and whether I understood some metaphors or not, but I still felt engaged and intrigued every time I picked it up, so for that I'm giving it 4 stars.
(The English translations at times were oof, I think I even found some gramatical errors that made the already confusing text even more puzzling... Or maybe that was the author's intention?)