A collection of seven short stories (translated into English for the first time by Yoosup Change and Heinz Insu Fenkl) by internationally acclaimed South Korean filmmaker Lee Chang-dong, Snowy Day and Other Stories transports readers to the grueling and chilling reality of South Korean society in the 1980s, where social and political strife loomed over the everyday life of regular citizens. With in-depth understanding and empathy for all sorts of people — from idealistic young students and hardened soldiers to listless civil servants and stalwart grandmothers — Lee covers an astonishing breadth of perspectives within these tales, which he penned forty-odd years ago in a very different South Korea from today.
The first story in the collection, “Snowy Day,” brings together two young soldiers on night watch: one is fresh-faced and well-educated, but unaccustomed and unfit for the military experience, while the other enjoys a higher rank, although younger and has far more familiarity with the cruelties of the world. Their personality differences throw into stark reminder the bizarre-ness of mandatory military service, which results in countless strange pairings such as these men of opposing backgrounds and worldviews. Bookended by an absurd and tragic sequence of events, “Snowy Day” sets the tone for the rest of the collection.
Each of Lee’s short stories contain characters with fully fleshed-out psychologies, spanning different ages, genders, education levels, and political leanings, yet they all reside in a world filled with the same horrific poverty, corruption, and paranoia. An existential wailing seems to permeate the thoughts of the various protagonists who are trapped in a Kafkaesque world of strict socio-economic hierarchy, vicious militant power, and unspoken generational trauma. These stories paint a vivid picture of how South Korea must have looked and felt under its military dictator, Chun Doo-hwan, in the ’80s: depressing, meaningless, and overwhelming.
There are recurring themes of families broken or lovers torn apart by their political leanings, regular people accused and tortured over accusations of being communists or student activists, and much heavy introspection that leads to despondent conclusions and mental breakdowns. Lee provides plenty of opportunity for each character to explain why and how they have come to think the way they do, either through dialogue with others or an ongoing series of thoughts wherein they react to their extreme environments, think back to critical childhood moments, or second guess their own decisions. These repeated motifs and existentialism invite comparison to Herman Melville, Albert Camus, and Franz Kafka.
Remarkably, Lee has a generous approach to all his characters, despite how despicable or shocking their actions may be at times. There exists no harsh judgment for the suspended student who confesses to having only an interest in her friends’ activism and zero real conviction, or the man who resents his father for naming him after Karl Marx and is ready to let him rot in prison. Instead, a pervasive awareness prevails where everyone has their own history that shapes their biases, feelings, and actions. Lee’s demonstrates an astounding level of empathy, and his writing, which comes from his own experiences as a young man in South Korea during this tumultuous decade, makes Snowy Day and Other Stories all the more worthwhile reading.
