Ma, Kwangsoo (1951-2017) was a South Korean poet, professor, novelist and essayist.
1. Life
Ma, Kwang-soo was born in Hwaseong, Gyeonggi Province. He studied Korean literature at Yonsei University, completing his Ph.D with a dissertation on Yun Dong-ju in 1983. The following year he began teaching at his alma mater. Ma made his literary debut in 1977, publishing six poems in Hyundae Munhak upon the recommendation of the poet Park Dujin. In 1989, he made his debut as a novelist publishing Gwontae (권태 Ennui). Over his life, he would publish eleven collections of poetry including Gaja jangmiyeogwaneuro (가자 장미여관으로 Let's Go to the Rose Inn), Naneun jjijeojin geoseul bomyeon heungbunhanda (나는 찢어진 것을 보면 흥분한다 I Get Excited Over Torn Things), numerous volumes of literary theory and criticism, around forty works of fiction and over twenty essay collections. Following the publication of his novel Jeulgeoun sara (즐거운 사라 Happy Sara) in 1991, he was charged with obscenity and dismissed from his job in 1995 when the Supreme Court upheld his sentence of two years in prison. His arrest was a cultural event that shook 1990s society, highlighting the emergence of liberalism and the conflict of conservatism. Ma was reinstated at Yonsei University after receiving a special pardon in 1998. He returned to work in 2003 and retired in August 2016. He reportedly suffered from depression due to his ordeal. He was found dead of an apparent suicide at his home in September 2017.
2. Writing
One of the most important cultural producers of the revitalized 1980s and 1990s, Ma was at the forefront of the anti-authoritarian movement, publishing controversial works that challenged conformist attitudes toward sexuality and which were frequently set in seedy inns. Two years before writing his notorious Jeulgeoun sara (which landed the author in jail because its storyline—concerning the sexual adventures of an unmarried female college student—was deemed obscene), Ma had published a book of poetry entitled Gaja jangmiyeogwaneuro. Between its 1989 publication and its filmic adaptation one year later, much debate swirled in the popular press; not about its artistic merits, but rather about its 'immoral' libertinism. Peopled with fingernail fetishists and foot-smellers, the collection touched a nerve simply by shifting focus away from spiritual love to physical attraction and the pleasures of the flesh, played out in spaces that became sanctuaries for those seeking solace from the political corruption and social injustices outside. The title poem rhapsodizes about coffee and conversation as well as the act of combing a woman's hair, rendered in fetishistic detail that ultimately tips the balance toward full-blown carnality. By putting instant gratification and hedonistic sensuality above the Confucian tenets of patience and moderation, Ma Kwang-su (often called 'the D.H. Lawrence of South Korea) presents the spatial confines of the motel room as a relatively emancipatory—if still potentially stagnating—alternative to the parochial limitations beyond its walls. This provocateur's work epitomized the era as few cultural productions—in print or onscreen—did. [1]
Reference
[1] Diffrient, D. S. (2009). No Quarter(s), No Camel(s), No Exit(s): Motel Cactus and the Low Heterotopias of Seoul. In Moving Pictures/Stopping Places: Hotels and Motels on Film. Lexington Books, pp.302-303.
