VOL.93/2026.04

Special Project

 

Non-fiction on Emotions Selected by Critics Across Generations

 

 

2026.03

 

 

For the March issue Special Project, we feature a total of four non-fiction books on emotions, with one title selected by a critic representing each of the four generations. The theme of this issue focuses on emotional exploration, introducing a curated selection of books that delve into seclusion and isolation, the journey toward self-identity, the process of reaching adulthood, and various narratives regarding the human body.

 

 

 

 

The 20s Perspective – Sollim Lee, Cultural Critic

 

“Faint, Yet Not Gone: Existential Presence”

 

 

Emotions harden when left untended. Left unexplained and neglected for too long, they gradually lose their warmth and eventually become walls that imprison the self. In this hardened space, terms like “seclusion” and “isolation” emerge. Within Korean society, this phenomenon is categorized under the label “isolated and reclusive youth.” The time spent by these young people who neither work nor engage in social activities is quickly translated into the language of national economics and summoned as a problem that must be urgently solved. However, within such naming, the delicate textures of emotion are rarely revealed.

 

In her book Faint Existences, Kim Go-eun interprets seclusion and isolation as a shared sensation widely permeated among the younger generation. It is an internal current of life that statistics such as turnover or suicide rates fail to capture. Having studied Eastern philosophy outside of institutional academia throughout her twenties, she introduces the term “Soul Blindness” with the sensibility of a Confucian scholar. It describes a state of having lost one’s soul, being unable to face the souls of others, and ultimately failing to reach one’s own self. Her statement that this is not a state near death but rather “already dead” lingers long after closing the book. If one is alive but cannot feel that life, where can a new beginning be found?

 

The book draws a line by placing another point next to the “dead point” of seclusion and isolation. This connected line then expands into a plane as it encounters reality. For the author, the process of writing this book was an act of learning rather than mere research. Instead of analyzing from a distance, she chose to stand closely beside her subjects. She repeatedly peered into these dead emotions without certainty of what she might find. At the end, the author closes the book while longing for her partner “Gaeguri”, who turned his back on the world. It is staggering to think of those who can no longer be reached even when their names are called, those quietly hiding or disappearing somewhere. Being faint does not mean being gone. Perhaps we can still reach them if we keep watching just a little longer and never look away.

 

 

 

 

The 30s Perspective - Junhyuk Maeng, Publishing Editor

 

“I Am Sometimes Mediocre, Often Okay, and Occasionally Great”

 

 

What Does It Even Mean to Be Myself?

 

“I always felt a sense of suffocation whenever I heard the words ‘be yourself.’ What does being myself even mean? What if I am just a mediocre person? These questions surged within me.” (p. 127)

 

Seeing how the question “What does it mean to be myself?” remains unresolved even in adulthood, I sometimes think that we ask all of life’s essential questions in middle school and simply leave them there. While the world of content is flooded with the phrase “be yourself,” what does that actually look like? I am often cowardly, easily shaken, and prone to comparing myself with others out of jealousy. At the same time, I loathe cowardice, long for integrity, and desire to maintain firm personal standards. In these ambivalent feelings, we often try to identify the “real me.” Some decide that the “mediocre version” is the authentic self and try to find comfort by forcing a positive spin on those ugly emotions. However, the insight meditation provides in this book is much clearer. It is not about determining which version of “me” is real, but rather realizing that there is no fixed “self” to begin with.

 

Within the Flow of the Moment

 

The author also lived her life deeply concerned with the gaze of others, suffering from a sense of shame whenever she faced her inner depression and anger. Emotions were like waves that constantly crashed over her, and she struggled to avoid being swept away, often trying to endure by pretending to be a “decent person.” Through meditation, she reached this conclusion:

 

“Now I know. Being myself simply meant existing as the ‘me’ of each moment within the changing flow.”

 

This sentence offered a strange sense of liberation. The realization that my existence is not fixed, but is instead like constantly flowing water. The “me” who is angry is still me, and the “me” who is peaceful is also me. Instead of denying or struggling to overhaul the “pathetic me,” I simply acknowledge and let the emotions pass by saying, “Ah, I am angry right now,” or “I am feeling jealous right now.” That is the method of handling emotions taught by meditation and the true meaning of “being oneself.” In the book, the author gains the perspective of an “observer” who views themselves objectively. Seen through this lens, life is no longer a battlefield of emotions. It is okay to be inconsistent. We simply live our lives carrying the “me” of each moment within the ever-changing flow. And sometimes, that version of “me” is actually quite alright. Anyway, Meditation does not tell you to tear yourself apart to become a better person. Instead, it tells you that it is okay to breathe exactly as you are, even when emotions are fluctuating. The power of meditation gained from this book is the affirmation of the entire flow, recognizing that excellence, deficiency, and ugliness all come together to create who I am.

 

 

 

 

The 40s Perspective – Mihyang Kim, Publishing Critic

 

 

In the Korean publishing market, “adulthood” has recently emerged as a significant trend in non-fiction. According to the article titled On the Road Toward the End of 2025 (December 1, 2025), published in 〈K-Book Trends〉 Vol. 91 (February 2026) by the Publication Industry Promotion Agency of Korea (KPIPA), “adult” has become the most prominent keyword in the essay category. This phenomenon serves as an indicator that the concept of an “adult” has moved beyond a simple age classification. Instead, it reflects how contemporary Korean society is redefining maturity and the roles individuals are expected to play.

 

Ultimately, the core question is this: what kind of emotional management defines a mature person? In the traditional sense, an adult was understood as someone who restrains their emotions, remains unshaken, and bears responsibility. In this context, emotions were regarded as objects to be controlled or suppressed. However, recent discourse on adulthood is moving in a different direction. There is a growing recognition that a mature adult is someone who understands, coordinates, and handles their emotions responsibly. Adulthood is no longer defined by the absence of emotion, but is instead being redefined by how one perceives and manages those feelings.

 

The book Adulthood, Imperfect but Fine is situated within this changing tide of discourse on maturity. It does not assume an adult to be a complete or finished being. Instead, it takes as its premise a state where emotions such as anxiety, jealousy, regret, and fatigue do not simply disappear. Under the recognition that all emotions are normal, the book suggests ways to understand and coordinate these feelings rather than suppressing them. In particular, the author emphasizes the ethics of relationships based on the premise of imperfection. While youth may be able to reorganize their social circles and the elderly may step back from certain responsibilities, middle-aged individuals occupy a position where they cannot easily sever ties between the generation of their parents and that of their children. At this stage of life, performing duties while suppressing one’s own emotions can easily lead to the exhaustion of these relationships. Conversely, an attitude that acknowledges one’s own limitations while striving to sustain those ties makes long-term care and responsibility possible.

 

This book defines being an adult not as a stage of moral perfection, but as a way of handling emotions. By suggesting acceptance instead of perfection and coordination instead of suppression, this perspective reflects a generational shift in Korean society. At the same time, it poses a universal question to contemporary readers: What does it truly mean to be mature, and what emotional legacy will we leave for the next generation?

 

 

 

 

The 50s Perspective - Dongseok Jang, Literary Critic

 

 

Emotions are a product of the mind. However, they do not simply begin and end within the psyche; they inevitably manifest in the body in some form. It is a mistake to believe that the body and the mind exist as separate entities. In Bodyology, Lee Yu-jin, a journalist for the Hankyoreh who strives to be a “reporter by weekday and researcher by weekend,” tracks how emotions are expressed through the body, which has become a modern-day idol of sorts.

 

Just as the body changes with age, emotions also transform over time. Most immediately, when the body suffers from pain, the mind loses its sense of direction. Another crucial point to remember is that while every body belongs to an individual, it is also inherently social. This is a theme that Bodyology explores deeply. The body, though private, frequently captures the gaze of others. This gaze then shifts toward the person’s emotions and sometimes transforms the body into an object of desire. This has been true for the hips, for legs adorned under the name of “graceful curves,” and for the face as well. When people meet for the first time, they look at a face and guess what kind of person stands before them. Nowadays, people even compare faces to animals, using terms like “cat-like” or “dog-like.” Although there is no absolute standard for evaluating a face, people make arbitrary judgments of like and dislike based on their emotions. These preferences then expand on a social level. A representative example of this would be the faces and bodies of girl group members, which are infinitely consumed within Korean society.

 

Among the elements that make up the body, tears provide the most dramatic display of emotion. Until recently, tears were considered a yardstick of “humanity” that distinguished us from other animals. However, recent studies show that elephants weep in mourning and dogs may shed tears of joy upon a reunion. Despite this, tears remain fundamentally human, as there are virtually no boundaries to the human teardrop when it comes to expressing the full spectrum of joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure. Yet, tears are sometimes mocked or trivialized. When celebrities or politicians shed tears of repentance after being caught in misconduct, the public often dismisses them as “crocodile tears.” Tears vividly demonstrate how emotions manifested through the body can be simultaneously private and social.

 

While the act of eating does not physically constitute the body itself, it is ultimately a part of both the body and the mind. Food often becomes an object upon which we project our desires. On the opposite end of the spectrum, fasting serves as a significant means of expressing resistance and protest—an embodiment of the dissenting mind. Although hunger strikes by politicians have now become subjects of sarcasm, the prison hunger strikes of independence activists or the fasting of early 20th-century British suffragettes to win the right to vote were noble expressions of the heart. As previously mentioned, the body vividly reflects the shifts within the mind. In other words, the movements of the mind are synonymous with the movements of the body. By traversing every corner of our physical form, Bodyology illustrates how each part of the body is intimately connected to our emotions. If you are curious about the movements of the mind or emotions, you should first observe the movements of the body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Written by Sollim Lee (Publishing Editor)

As an editor, she contemplates books that will stand the test of time, while as a critic, she keeps a keen eye on new releases that demand to be read in the here and now. She is also a reader who dreams of a day where she can step aside from professional concerns to simply read to her heart's content, secretly hoping to one day find herself accidentally locked inside a library.

 

Written by Junhyuk Maeng (Book Editor)

Rather than aiming to craft a polished review or a perfect introduction, my true hope is to accurately convey the ‘code’ shared by myself and the ‘us’ out there somewhere. As a South Korean reader in my thirties who loves literature, I seek to carefully give voice to a part of that sensibility.

 

Written by Mihyang Kim (Book Critic·Essayist, IT Service Planner)

She worked as a publishing editor for thirteen years, spending three years on books and ten years planning and editing magazines. She is the author of the essay Mother Said She Was Not Happy, and co-authored Key Words of the Korean Publishing Industry 2010-2019, What is Film?, and Goods Caution. Having served as a Creative Director at a tech company, she is currently designing, interpreting, and recording the world as a service planner and storyteller.

 

Written by Dongseok Jang (Literary Critic, Secretary General of the Pajubookcity Center)

He is a dedicated reader and writer. Captivated by the vast and profound world of literature, he spends every spare moment reading and contemplating how books resonate with our society. He is currently striving to transform books, the infinite source of all content, into diverse cultural formats. His published works include The Living Library, The Rebirth of Forbidden Books, The Birth of Different Thoughts, The Romance of the Three Kingdoms: A Story Renewed After a Thousand Years, and Meeting World Classics for the First Time: A Guide for Teens.