LTI Korea 
DLKL 
SIWF 
Second Chances scrap
by Lee Heejoo
Translated by Paige Aniyah Morris
June 9, 2026
Author Bio 작가 소개
Lee Heejoo
This past April, I joined a delegation sponsored by LTI Korea and traveled to France with fellow novelist Kang Jiyoung to participate in several literary events in Paris and Lyon. I felt nervous—not only were these events held halfway across the world, but there’s something inherently awkward about them in general. Writing is, to some degree, a solitary act. Unlike actors or singers, whose very presence onstage is an artistic moment, for writers, book events feel like embracing a cold body drained of all its passion. No matter how hard you try to warm it up, you can’t force its heart to beat again. At the same time, part of me wants to see my lover, my book, in someone else’s arms, to watch the life rush back into it—I feel a secret joy and sorrow in introducing the dead body of my work to readers. This contradiction is what made me fall in love with literature— the gap and passageway through which pain and light readily seep in. Despite my complicated feelings, I approached these events with a very clear-cut mindset.
Before meeting readers in France, I tempered my expectations. I hoped that, while I am considered a bit of an unusual writer in Korea, my story would resonate with French readers. However, knowing that great hopes often lead to great disappointments, I repeated to myself: “Just being published is an honor.” On the other hand (as embarrassing as it is to admit), I’ll confess that deep down I prayed my novel Holy Boy would fare better in translation. After all, it had earned a second chance through translation. The efforts of my two excellent French translators put an end to my worries. As I met readers nonstop over the course of five days, I realized that I had never needed to lower my expectations after all.
Most of the attendees at “La nuit du POLAR Franco-coréen,” held with writers Meï Lepage and Thomas Weaver in Paris, had read my book beforehand. There was an endless line of people eager to talk with me and ask all sorts of questions about my novel. I was reminded that the true hallmarks of this country weren’t the elaborate artifacts housed in the Louvre, but rather the power of asking questions and engaging in discussion.
The shy readers I met at Librairie Le Phénix, a Parisian bookstore specializing in Asian literature, were a different story. Because Holy Boy features K-pop fans, these readers were drawn to my novel not only for literary reasons, but also out of curiosity about K-pop itself. I took a special delight in posing for pictures in a foreign country while holding up idol photocards.
Meeting readers at Quais du Polar, Lyon’s crime fiction festival and the largest of its kind in Europe, was a new kind of thrill. Seeing readers pick up copy after copy of my book from the stacks I had set out was the kindest welcome I could have received, a gesture so warm I could practically feel it on my skin. I could see that their smiles were genuine, even though I could hardly communicate with them due to my limited English. As I wandered through a maze of uninterpretable words, I was constantly aware of class and rank. (Mastering a foreign language in Korea is often a sign of higher education and status.) Nevertheless, the fact that so many readers came to see me was like a lantern that dispelled my anxiety. For now, I plan to move forward in the darkness, holding onto this little light all the while.
I also had some interesting interactions with my two translators. My encounters with Cécilia Castelli and Bee-ah Lee made me realize that even language that has been revised multiple times may still require explanation. Holy Boy features three characters who took part in social movements in the 1990s. They are not the kind of admirable figures that spring to mind when we think of people in pursuit of noble causes. In fact, they are insignificant people hoping to better their own lives through activism. The translators explained that there had been much debate over how to best render the word
“undong”—whether it should be translated as “movement” or “exercise.” The controversy arose because Bee-ah, who had been involved in the student movements of that era, couldn’t wrap her head around what I had written. Bee-ah personally had never devoted herself to a cause out of personal greed or the pursuit of glory. Even as the proofreading and revision processes remove overly self-indulgent passages and clarify unintended ambiguities, lived experience leads to different readings of the text. Once again, I was reminded of the obvious truth that the real second chances in literature lie in the hands of each reader.
Although essays are inherently written from a first-person perspective, I realize now that I have only talked about myself. My lack of foreign language skills surely plays a part in this. Without mastering an imperial language, communication is so limited! That is why, despite all the time we spent together, I couldn’t ask my fellow writers which works left a mark on them. I could only ever pose such intimate questions in my native language. At the same time, there were certain things I could see precisely because I was an observer. For example, the feminist sticker I spotted on Camille’s phone; the look of pride that passed over Pierre’s face as he showed me a photo of his daughter; and the warmth in Benoît’s eyes as he told me about his travel plans with his husband. These are the things I can take with me from beyond the realm of language.
As a child, I was a loner. I found other people fascinating and wanted to capture their allure in my own way, so I began to write. One by one, the sentences I wrote found their way to France. Now I was sitting in their company, no longer a loner, looking around at the world.
It took traveling halfway across the world for me to realize that.
Translator 번역가 소개
Paige Aniyah Morris
Paige Aniyah Morris is a writer and translator from Jersey City, New Jersey, who now lives in Seoul, where she teaches creative writing and literary translation at LTI Korea Translation Academy. She has translated works by writers such as Pak Kyongni and Han Kang.
Did you enjoy this article? 별점
Did you enjoy this article? Please rate your experience
More From Issue Vol. 72 Summer 2026
More Content Like This
