VOL.69/2024.04

Illustrator’s Pick

2023.03.13

There’s one thing that I felt as I’ve been living in Seoul for 14 years. Seoul changes every second. The red-brick multi-family house where I lived for 7 years and the path that I walked on every day are no longer there, with new apartments in place instead. Most of the shops I used to be a regular at have closed, too. Such frequent changes are different in type, too. Go around the high, giant apartments, enter the alley, and you’ll see clusters of red-bricked houses all of a sudden, which is quite unbalancing. A decades-old market is just a street across from the new town. Avenues with new, popular shops are always under construction. For travelers, the vibrant atmosphere created by those different sceneries might be something dynamic and entertaining.
But, as Korea has been growing too fast, people with less financial capacity or those unprepared were forced to leave their homes. Demolished houses, evicted residents, and destroyed streets were in the history of Seoul’s development. They appeared every other period, in every region, countless times. In other words, the splendid skyline of the city has deep, dark pain in its shadow.
The book A Poor City Dweller’s Walk in Seoul (Humanitas) discusses those stories. The writer, a social activist standing for the poor, shares the “behind-the-scene” stories of Seoul’s rapid development. For example, the people evicted from the forest path near Gyeongui Line due to gentrification (a phenomenon where the development of the old city attracts a middle-class population, heightening housing rents, which eventually drives out the natives), the fire at the Yongsan demolition site which was a nationwide issue, and houses destroyed by an excavator overnight just because they look hideous to host the Olympics. The stories of people that were kicked out of their homes to make today’s beautiful Cheonggyecheon Stream, are the topics discussed in the book.
The stories are narrated in the voice of the people that were actually in the tragic moments. The stories of the evicted are fast-erased and forgotten compared to the fancy success stories. Everyone avoids talking about the history of the poor. However, this book brings back those forgotten memories. It makes us remember the people and spaces that disappeared – the “poor city dwellers” that had to be removed and be “organized” for beautiful, glittering Seoul. Read the book and walk in Seoul, and you will feel as if you’ve got another “lens” in your eyes looking at the city.

I’m Not Unfortunate, Yet (Munhakdongne) is a non-fiction book written by Kim Botong, who caused a sensation with his comics Amanza (Wisdom House) and DP Dog’s Day (Cine 21 Books), showing excellent charm even as a screenplay for dramatize. While he has become a true writer and cartoonist today, he was actually someone that never expected to become a cartoonist.
There’s a sort of cultural thesis in Korea that “it is a successful life if you graduate from a prestigious university and work at a large conglomerate.” I don’t know if things have changed these days, but for the writer, born in the 1980s, this kind of life goal was like one of the common rules to climb the social ladder. He went to one of the best universities and a big company in accordance with his parents’ demands and as a savior for his poor family. His dream came true. However, while people expected him to be happy, he wasn’t. What was waiting for him was an unreasonably rigid company culture and intense labor that didn’t leave him time to get enough sleep. He repeatedly sought a doctor for depression. Eventually, he had to quit the company. After leaving the company, he didn’t have the strength to start a new life for a while. To him, who used to live as what the world told him to do, “how should I live” was not a problem that could be solved instantly. So, he just stayed at home, thinking hard for a long time about what he wanted to do next. He thought of setting up a library and sometimes went traveling. During the long walks on his trips, he couldn’t get an idea. An idea for “what he should do now.”
Many people live diligently doing “things that they should be doing,” rather than “things they want to do.” I also wanted to draw, but I had to choose to major in politics and diplomacy at the university, which had nothing to do with drawing. I eventually started to draw during my university years, as I made up my mind, “I definitely should become an illustrator.” People usually start art in their teenage years, but I was 24 when I made that decision. So, progress was slow, painful, and exhausting. The book reminded me of my past, which was sluggish and tough.
In this book, writer Kim Botong describes the things and ideas he had as he was seeking to find what he really wanted to do, in a very detailed and candid way. The question, “Do I really want to do this? Am I happy?”, is what almost everyone thinks about. It feels like you have to have some fancy, positive energy to give a cool answer to that question. But the stories of Kim Botong go on and on. That is just so realistic. He said, “I’m not unfortunate, yet.” He can’t say that he is “happy,” but at the same time, he is not “unhappy.” It’s just that level of change that’s happening right now. That’s what made me like this book more. Changing is such a hard and slow process. And this book doesn’t regard it as something trivial. It really was a big supporter for me when I chose to take an entirely different path in my career.

Written by Banzisu (Illustrator)