Kim Un-su 김언수 made his literary debut 2002 with the short story "Easy Writing Lessons" (참 쉽게 배우는 글짓기교실) and later went on to publish crime novels. After the success of his novels The Cabinet (캐비닛, 2006) and The Plotters (설계자들, 2010) in Korea, in 2013 this story was included in Kim's first short story collection titled Jab (잽). While Kim's novels have been translated into Japanese and other languages, I could only confirm that the short story collection has been translated into French. So, this story probably doesn't exist in English, Japanese or Chinese translation yet.
I have translated a self-described "digest" version of the story that a person named Lee Song-eun (이송은) posted online here. The original is much richer in detail and obviously longer, so this version can only give a small taste of Kim's imaginative storytelling. I hope this translation kindles interest in his work. Mistakes are my own. Please reach out with corrections, questions or comments.
Translation - Bilingual version
<참 쉽게 배우는 글짓기 교실>(김언수) 2002
"Terribly Easy Writing Lessons" by Kim Un-su (2002)
Translated by Kieran Maynard (2022)
평범한 금요일 저녁이었다. 퇴근을 했고, 아파트 지하주차장에 막 주차하려는 중이었다. 그때 낡은 중형차 한 대가 후진을 하면서 내 차를 받았다. "죄송합니다." 차에서 내린 사내가 고개를 숙이며 말했다. 그리고 나를 향해 다가오더니 양복 주머니에서 뭔가를 꺼냈다. 전기충격기였다. 웬 전기충격기? 하는 순간, 눈앞에서 뭔가 번쩍했다.
It was an ordinary Friday evening. I drove home from work and was about to park in the garage under my apartment complex when an old midsize car backed into me.
"My apologies," said the man as he got out of the car, shaking his head. Then, he approached me and pulled something from his suit pocket: a taser. Wait what, a taser? I thought, as something flashed in front of my eyes.
깨어나 보니 나는 구겨진 옷가지마냥 자동차 트렁크 속에 처박혀 있는 것이다. 납치인가? 나 같은 사람을 납치해서 뭣에 쓰려고? 하지만 그보다 더 심각한 문제는 미친 듯이 오줌이 마렵다는 것이다. 그냥 바지에 오줌을 쌀까? 생각도 해봤다. 그래도 그건 아니다. 용기를 내자. 나는 발을 들어 트렁크를 차기 시작했다. 차가 멈춰 섰다. 트렁크 문이 열린다. 검은 양복이 나를 노려본다. 내가 뭔 말을 꺼내기도 전에 검은 양복이 주머니에서 전기충격기를 꺼냈다. "아! 이 새끼 존나게 시끄럽네." 검은 양복이 내 목에 전기충격기를 갖다 댔다. 번쩍!
When I woke up, I found myself stuffed in the trunk of a car, crumpled like dirty laundry. Kidnapping? What's the point of kidnapping someone like me? But the more pressing problem was that I desperately had to pee. Should I just pee in my pants? I thought. No way, man up! I lifted my foot and started kicking the trunk. The car stopped, the trunk opened, and there was the guy in the black suit staring at me. Before I could speak, he pulled the taser from his pocket, muttering, "Ugh, this b—--- is so annoying." He pressed the taser to my neck: flash!
눈을 떴을 때 나는 결국 바지에 오줌을 지린 채로 치과 수술용 의자 같은 곳에 묶여 있었다. 카키색 양복이 나에게 천천히 걸어왔다.
When I woke up, I had peed my pants and was tied to something like a dental chair. A guy in a khaki suit approached me.
"대체 나를 여기 왜 끌고 온 겁니까?"
"Why the hell did you bring me here?"
카키색 양복이 아무런 대답도 하지 않았다. 나 같은 사람을 왜 잡아왔을까? 내가 왜 여기에 끌려와 있는 것일까 곰곰이 생각했다. 이런저런 생각 끝에 나는 결국 기관에서 사람을 잘못 체포해온 것이라는 결론을 내렸다.
Khaki didn't answer. Why would they nab someone like me? I wracked my brains for why I was brought here and concluded that I must have been arrested by some agency by mistake.
"나, 송정오란 사람이요. 무슨 말인지 아시겠소? 난 당신들이 찾는 그런 사람이 아니라니까. 빨리 신원이나 확인하고 그냥 집에나 가게 해주시오."
"Look, my name is Song Jeong-oh, you hear me? I'm not the one you're looking for. Please confirm my identity and whatnot and just let me go home."
카키색 양복이 언짢은 표정을 지었다.
"이름 송정오, 나이 32세, 복숭아 알레르기. 너희 아버지 송만길은 1997년까지 열한 명의 탈북자들을 암살했지. 그리고 송정오 너는 지난 3월 7일. 워커힐 호텔 4903호 복도 앞에서 소음기를 단 토카레프, 일명 떼떼 권총으로 김석산을 암살했고."
Khaki suit's face twisted into a scowl.
"Name Song Jeong-oh, age 32, allergic to peaches. Your father, Song Man-gil, assassinated eleven North Korean defectors by 1997; and you, Song Jeong-oh, on March 7th, in the hallway in front of Room 4903 at the Walkerhill Hotel in Seoul, you assassinated Kim Seok-san using a Tokarev TT-33 pistol equipped with a silencer."
"헛! 김석산이 누군데요?"
"전 노동당 상무위원."
"Huh? Who is Kim Seok-san?"
"A former top-level official in the Presidium of the North Korean Workers' Party."
노동당, 암살, 토카레프……나는 갑자기 피식 웃음이 튀어나왔다.
Worker's Party, assassination, Tokarev...
I burst into giggles.
"하하. 선생님들이 뭘 잘못 짚어도 한참 잘못 짚으신 것 같은데요. 소음기 장착 토, 토카레? 이거 거의 명작 동화네요. 명작 동화. 하하……"
검은 양복이 안 되겠다는 듯이 고개를 살짝 저었다.
"어이, 김과장. 장비 준비해."
"Oh man, you gotta be kidding me. Seriously, a Tok… Tokarev with a silencer? That's a good one, a heck of a story you got there," I chortled.
The guy in the black suit shook his head in distaste and said, "Mr. Kim, prepare the Device."
검은 양복이 치과 수술용 의자를 뒤로 젖혔다. 그리고 옆에 있는 전자장비에 전원을 넣었다. 나는 문득 겁이 났다. 지금 분위기로 봐서는 고문이라도 시작될 분위기였다. 이 사람들은 나를 간첩으로 착각하고 있다. 지금 당장 무슨 변명이라도 해야 한다고 생각했지만 너무나 공포에 질려 있어 머릿속에서 아무런 말도 떠오르지 않았다.
"준비 다 되었습니다, 부장님."
They reclined the operating chair and powdered up the electronic equipment next to me. I suddenly got scared; it didn't take a genius to realize I was about to be tortured. I assumed these people must have mistaken me for a spy and that I should say something to defend myself, and fast, but I was so terrified that my mind went blank.
"It's ready, boss."
카키색 양복이 자리에 앉았다. 그리고 마치 텔레비전을 켜듯 리모컨 버튼을 눌렀다. 순간 손가락에서 무언가 지나갔다. 극심한 고통에 소리도 지를 수 없었다. 마치 수천 개의 면도날들이 미친 듯이 날뛰며 장기들을 잘라내는 것 같았다. 내가 사지를 비틀며 경련을 하는 동안 검은 양복과 카키색 양복은 설렁탕을 시켜서 점심을 먹었고, 담배를 피우기도 하고, 여직원과 농담을 하기도 했다. 열시간만에 장비가 멈췄을 때 카키색 양복이 다가와서 말했다.
Khaki sat down and flicked a button on the remote like he was switching on the TV. I felt something shoot through my finger and such excruciating pain that I couldn't even scream, like thousands of razor blades were careening through my body, slicing my organs. While I was thrashing and convulsing, the suits ate ox bone soup for lunch, smoked cigarettes, and even joked with the female staff. After ten hours, the device stopped.
"넌 살인범이지?"
"네, 저는 살인범입니다."
내가 울면서 말했다.
"넌 간첩이지?"
"네, 저는 간첩입니다."
Khaki suit came over and asked, "Are you a murderer?"
"Yes, I am a murderer," I whimpered.
"Are you a spy?"
"Yes, I am a spy."
검은 양복이 장비에서 나를 풀어주었다.
"그럼 이제부터 진술서를 쓰게나. 자네는 여기에 나와 있는 기사와 자료들을 보고 모든 의혹들을 말끔하게 풀어줄 수 있는 구체적이고 사실적인 진술서를 써야 한단 말이야. 알겠나?"
나는 다시 기계적으로 고개를 끄덕였다.
"열두 시간 후에 오겠네."
Black suit freed me from the device.
"Then you had better start writing your statement right away. You should read these articles and materials and write a concrete and factual statement that will clear up any doubts about your guilt. Do you understand?"
I nodded automatically.
"I'll be back in twelve hours."
도대체 진술서를 어떻게 써야 하는지 도무지 감을 잡을 수 없었다. 세 시간도 넘게 방 안을 어슬렁거리기만 했다. 나는 북한 공작원이다.
나는 암살범 송정오다. 나는 암살 전문 공작원이다. 그렇게 세 시간을 중얼거리다가 다시 책상에 앉았다. 머릿속에 떠올렸던 암시들을 생각하며 펜을 잡고 진술서를 쓰기 시작했다. 나는 암살범이다……
I couldn't fathom how on earth to write such a statement. I just wandered around the room for over three hours. I am a North Korean secret agent. I am the assassin Song Jeong-oh. I am a professional assassin. After muttering like that for three hours, I sat down at my desk again, and with these hypnotic suggestions in my head, I grabbed a pen and started writing:
I am an assassin...
"이 개새끼야. 이게 도대체 무슨 말이야. 김과장, 이 새끼는 말로 해서는 안 되는 놈이야. 장비에 집어넣고 열두 시간쯤 돌려."
나는 너무나 공포에 질려서 바지에 오줌을 지렸다.
"This little b--! What the hell is this? Mr. Kim, I'm speechless. Put this b---- in the Device and run it for a good twelve hours."
I peed my pants in terror.
"잘 쓸게요. 한 번만 더 기회를 주세요. 정말이에요. 제발 장비에만 넣지 말아주세요."
나는 눈물 콧물까지 흘려가며 사정을 했다. 그러자 카키색 양복이 슬쩍 웃었다.
"좋아. 그럼 한 번 더 기회를 주지. 명심해, 암살범처럼 거칠게 써, 거칠게!"
"I will do it right, please just give me one more chance. I mean it, really, just please don't put me back in the Device," I pleaded, dripping tears and snot.
The khaki suit smiled: "Good. I'll give you one more chance. Keep this in mind: write rough like an assassin, rough!"
나는 "예" 하고 잘 알겠다는 듯이 말했다. 다시 책상에 앉았다. 그리고 글을 쓰기 위해 다시 방 안을 어슬렁거렸다. 나는 거칠다. 나는 암살 전문 공작원 송정오다.
I said yes and pretended I understood. I sat down at the desk again. Then I wandered around the room again trying to write. I'm rough, I am Song Jeong-oh, a professional assassin…
그 후로 몇 달인지 모르는 동안 카키색 양복은 매일 열두 시간에 한 번씩 들어왔다. 좋은 시절도 있었고 나쁜 시절도 있었다. 하지만 대체로 카키색 양복은 나의 진술서를 보고 나날이 좋아지고 있다고 말했다. 나는 날마다 진술서 속의 이야기들을 상상하고 느끼고 호흡했다. 그러자 진술서의 세계가 점점 좋아졌다. 그러므로 나는 이제 더 이상 나에게 암살범이라는 가짜 암시를 주지 않아도 되었다.
For months after that, the khaki suit came in every twelve hours. There were good times and there were bad times. But in general, as he read my statement he said it was getting better day by day. Every day I imagined, felt, and breathed the stories in my statement. The world inside it grew richer, and I no longer needed to try and hypnotize myself into believing I was truly an assassin.
다시 깨어났을 때 나는 검은 양복 사내를 처음 만났던 지하주차장 바닥에 누워 있었다. 가죽 잠바를 입은 두 명의 사내가 나에게 걸어와 물었다. "송정오 씨입니까?" 나는 고개를 끄덕였다. 그러자 오른쪽에 서 있던 가죽 잠바가 다짜고짜 내 팔을 뒤로 꺾고 수갑을 채우며 "당신을 김석산 살인 혐의로 체포한다"고 말했다. 가죽 잠바들은 나를 탁자가 있는 방으로 데려다주었다.
When I woke up again, I was lying on the floor of the underground parking lot where I had first met the man in the black suit.
Two men in leather jackets walked up to me and asked, "Are you Song Jeong-oh?"
I nodded. The one on the right twisted my arm and handcuffed me, saying, "I'm arresting you for the murder of Kim Seok-san."
잠시 후 금테 안경을 낀 사내가 노트북을 들고 와서 내 앞에 앉았다.
"이름?"
나는 아무 말도 하지 않았다. 금테 안경은 머리를 박박 긁고는 "이거 오늘밤 안에 진술서 쓰기는 글렀네."하고 투덜거렸다. 그때 갑자기 전등에 불이 들어오듯 내 눈이 번쩍 뜨였다.
The leather jackets took me to a room with a table. After a while, a man with gold-rimmed glasses came in with a laptop and sat down in front of me.
"Name?"
I didn't say anything. Gold rims started scratching his head and muttering, "I'm way too tired to write up this statement tonight..."
My eyes flicked on like a lightbulb.
"지금 진술서를 쓰려고 하는 건가요? 그건 제가 써야 해요. 아무렇게나 쓰면 안 되거든요. 노트북만 주세요."
나는 노트북을 내 앞으로 끌고 와서 진술서를 쓰기 시작했다. 나는 두 시간도 걸리지 않아서 진술서를 다 썼다. 진술서를 다시 읽어보고 ‘이것은 내가 쓴 진술서 중에서 최고군!’하고 생각했다. 가장 늙어 보이는 수사관이 "범인이 맞는 것 같기는 한데, 어쩐지 좀 꺼림칙하군." 했다. 나는 ‘꺼림칙하다’는 말을 듣고 깜짝 놀라 자리에서 일어났다.
"You going to write the statement now? You better let me write it. It can't be sloppy, right? Here, just give me the laptop."
I snatched the laptop, started typing, and finished in under two hours. I read it over and thought, This is the best statement I've ever written!
The older-looking investigator said, "I think the criminal has got it right, but I'm not so sure about this."
I bolted out of my seat.
"뭐가 부족한가요? 부족한 부분을 일러주고 자료집만 주세요. 제발 장비에만 올리지 말아요. 더 사실적이고 구체적으로 써드릴 수 있어요. 정말이에요. 자료집만 주세요. 네?"
"What's missing? Please just tell me what's missing and give me the background materials. Just please don't put me back on the Device. I can write more realistically and more specifically, really, just give me the materials, okay?"
Translation - English only
It was an ordinary Friday evening. I drove home from work and was about to park in the garage under my apartment complex when an old midsize car backed into me.
"My apologies," said the man as he got out of the car, shaking his head. Then, he approached me and pulled something from his suit pocket: a taser. Wait what, a taser? I thought, as something flashed in front of my eyes.
When I woke up, I found myself stuffed in the trunk of a car, crumpled like dirty laundry. Kidnapping? What's the point of kidnapping someone like me? But the more pressing problem was that I desperately had to pee. Should I just pee in my pants? I thought. No way, man up! I lifted my foot and started kicking the trunk. The car stopped, the trunk opened, and there was the guy in the black suit staring at me. Before I could speak, he pulled the taser from his pocket, muttering, "Ugh, this b—--- is so annoying." He pressed the taser to my neck: flash!
When I woke up, I had peed my pants and was tied to something like a dental chair. A guy in a khaki suit approached me.
"Why the hell did you bring me here?"
Khaki didn't answer. Why would they nab someone like me? I wracked my brains for why I was brought here and concluded that I must have been arrested by some agency by mistake.
"Look, my name is Song Jeong-oh, you hear me? I'm not the one you're looking for. Please confirm my identity and whatnot and just let me go home."
Khaki suit's face twisted into a scowl.
"Name Song Jeong-oh, age 32, allergic to peaches. Your father, Song Man-gil, assassinated eleven North Korean defectors by 1997; and you, Song Jeong-oh, on March 7th, in the hallway in front of Room 4903 at the Walkerhill Hotel in Seoul, you assassinated Kim Seok-san using a Tokarev TT-33 pistol equipped with a silencer."
"Huh? Who is Kim Seok-san?"
"A former top-level official in the Presidium of the North Korean Workers' Party."
Worker's Party, assassination, Tokarev...
I burst into giggles.
"Oh man, you gotta be kidding me. Seriously, a Tok… Tokarev with a silencer? That's a good one, a heck of a story you got there," I chortled."
The guy in the black suit shook his head in distaste and said, "Mr. Kim, prepare the Device."
They reclined the operating chair and powdered up the electronic equipment next to me. I suddenly got scared; it didn't take a genius to realize I was about to be tortured. I assumed these people must have mistaken me for a spy and that I should say something to defend myself, and fast, but I was so terrified that my mind went blank.
"It’s ready, boss."
Khaki sat down and flicked a button on the remote like he was switching on the TV. I felt something shoot through my finger and such excruciating pain that I couldn't even scream, like thousands of razor blades were careening through my body, slicing my organs. While I was thrashing and convulsing, the suits ate ox bone soup for lunch, smoked cigarettes, and even joked with the female staff. After ten hours, the device stopped.
Khaki suit came over and asked, "Are you a murderer?"
"Yes, I am a murderer," I whimpered.
"Are you a spy?"
"Yes, I am a spy."
Black suit freed me from the device.
"Then you had better start writing your statement right away. You should read these articles and materials and write a concrete and factual statement that will clear up any doubts about your guilt. Do you understand?"
I nodded automatically.
"I’ll be back in twelve hours."
I couldn't fathom how on earth to write such a statement. I just wandered around the room for over three hours. I am a North Korean secret agent. I am the assassin Song Jeong-oh. I am a professional assassin. After muttering like that for three hours, I sat down at my desk again, and with these hypnotic suggestions in my head, I grabbed a pen and started writing:
I am an assassin...
"This little b—--! What the hell is this? Mr. Kim, I'm speechless. Put this b—---- in the Device and run it for a good twelve hours."
I peed my pants in terror.
"I will do it right, please just give me one more chance. I mean it, really, just please don't put me back in the Device," I pleaded, dripping tears and snot.
The khaki suit smiled: "Good. I'll give you one more chance. Keep this in mind: write rough like an assassin, rough!"
I said yes and pretended I understood. I sat down at the desk again. Then I wandered around the room again trying to write. I'm rough, I am Song Jeong-oh, a professional assassin…
For months after that, the khaki suit came in every twelve hours. There were good times and there were bad times. But in general, as he read my statement he said it was getting better day by day. Every day I imagined, felt, and breathed the stories in my statement. The world inside it grew richer, and I no longer needed to try and hypnotize myself into believing I was truly an assassin.
When I woke up again, I was lying on the floor of the underground parking lot where I had first met the man in the black suit.
Two men in leather jackets walked up to me and asked, "Are you Song Jeong-oh?"
I nodded. The one on the right twisted my arm and handcuffed me, saying, "I'm arresting you for the murder of Kim Seok-san."
The leather jackets took me to a room with a table. After a while, a man with gold-rimmed glasses came in with a laptop and sat down in front of me.
"Name?"
I didn't say anything.
Gold rims started scratching his head and muttering, "I'm way too tired to write up this statement tonight..."
My eyes flicked on like a lightbulb.
"You going to write the statement now? You better let me write it. It can't be sloppy, right? Here, just give me the laptop."
I snatched the laptop, started typing, and finished in under two hours. I read it over and thought, This is the best statement I've ever written!
The older-looking investigator said, "I think the criminal has got it right, but I'm not so sure about this."
I bolted out of my seat.
"What's missing? Please just tell me what's missing and give me the background materials. Just please don't put me back on the Device. I can write more realistically and more specifically, really, just give me the materials, okay?"
Translator's Notes
The literal meaning of the title is "a classroom for writing lessons where it is so easy to learn". While there is no published English translation of the story, it is generally referred to as "Easy Writing Lessons." I like "Terribly Easy Writing Lessons" as a play on words, since it both accurately translates the colloquial Korean and hints at the terror of the plot.
Walkerhill Hotel ostensibly refers to a real hotel in Seoul. Reportedly the "singing prince" Yi Seok used to perform there.
The story is surely inspired by Book 3 of George Orwell's novel Nineteen Eighty-Four, since Kim's story not only contains the same elements of brainwashing, mysterious torture machines, and anonymous interrogators, but also seems to allude to Orwell's text in particular, in which the protagonist Winston "confessed to the assassination of eminent Party members" and being "a spy in the pay of the Eastasian government" among other things. Orwell’s novel was first translated into Korean in the 1950s and numerous versions have been produced, so it's not clear which version Kim may have read (or whether he read it in Korean or another language). The versions readily available online now all seem to have been published after 2002.