When The First Snow Flies

I raised eyebrows when I saw 'Snowy Day' by Lee Chang-dong published in The New Yorker on February 27, 2023. The acclaimed writer and director of 'Poetry' (2010), 'Burning' (2018) and 'Birthday' (2019) hasn't made a film or published any writing since. He is a novelist before he is a film-maker (and was ostracized and blacklisted by his own government for eight years till 2017).

Through the exchange between a Private Kim Young-min on sentry duty and his superior, Corporal Choi, when it starts snowing, and later on a woman, Lee Young-sook's visit to Private Kim at a remote military camp, the writer drew out class differences in the military service that permeate all aspects of Korean society and social interactions. 

People like Corporal Choi really make army a horrible institution. Private Kim is idealistic, and Corporal Choi isn't. He seems particularly bad-tempered and filled with resentment of everything and everyone. "How is it that you've only learned to resent the world?" 

But, immediately, the private regrets it. Because he knows there’s no way the corporal will enjoy the snow as much as he does. And now the corporal is coming out of the guardhouse, flustered, as if he’d been asleep on his helmet, just as the private thought.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“It’s snowing,” the private says.

“What?”

“Snow. It’s the first snow of the season.”

“Fucking idiot! You scared me! This the first time you seen snow, dumbass?”

It’s been six months since the private started his military service, but there’s a lot he still cannot understand. For instance, until then he would never, ever have imagined that he’d be treated like an idiot because he was happy to see snow falling.

Translated from Korean into English by Heinz Insu Fenkl and Yoosup Chang, this short story delves into military service in Korea, especially drawing upon Lee Chang-dong's memories of it in the late 1970s.

He wrote this story decades ago, but no one translated it and picked it up till recently. In an interview with Cressida Leyshon at The New Yorker, with answers translated by Heinz Insu Fenkl, he explained by he couldn't be writing such a story today against the current situations and playbook of social behavior.

You published the story in South Korea in 1987. Does South Korea feel like the same country thirty-five years later? Could you imagine writing the same story today? What was it like to return to “Snowy Day” when you were working with your translators Heinz Insu Fenkl and Yoosup Chang?

Over the past thirty-five years, Korea has changed tremendously on the surface, but, as I said before, the fact that Korea is divided remains unchanged. The gap or conflict between classes seems to have become more complicated and ambiguous, as is the case throughout the world, but in Korea it is also deepening.

I could not write the same story now, because the military culture of the new generation in Korea has changed a lot. To translate “Snowy Day,” it was necessary to have a deep understanding of these changes in Korean society and in military life as well as the psychology of soldiers at that time. In that respect, I think my translators—Heinz Insu Fenkl, who is a novelist himself, and Yoosup Chang—were a rare find because they were so well suited for the task.

The story then turned dramatic. When there was a civilian intruder caught in the barbed wire on the premises one night Private Kim and Corporal Choi were out on patrol, the latter wanted to shoot the intruder. The two soldiers had a scuffle and Private Kim got shot. He somehow took over the decision-making, and told Corporal Choi to send the civilian away, to replace the magazine in the rifles and tell people that Private Kim had an accidental weapons discharge.  

He was evacuated to a hospital in Seoul. On the first day of snow, the woman came to see him and missed him because he wasn't in the camp. This is hardly a love story, at least I don't see it that way. It's just a memory in Private Kim's head.  

I do like Korean military films. Nope, not 'Crash Landing on You' (2019) or 'Descendants of the Sun' (2016) types. I like 'Joint Security Area' (2000) directed by Park Chan-wook and 'D.P' (2021) directed by Han Jun-hee. 

But the corporal just looks at him blankly, still sitting there on the ground. The ringing of the telephone sounds ever more urgent. He tries to kick the corporal again, but already his foot does not respond. All he can manage is to draw up a shallow breath from deep within his throat and shout. 

“What are you doing, idiot?” 

 The corporal finally stirs. The private is trembling violently. He watches the corporal’s every move.

“Good . . . Now . . . answer the phone. Report . . . there was an accidental weapons discharge.”

He suddenly realizes that his plan is laughable. Nothing can change reality, the private thinks. The bastard fired, and I got hit. But I am merely spinning it convincingly, like a scene in a novel. To prove I’m not an idiot? To show I’m not an impersonal and anonymous soldier but a unique human being?

His throat tightens and crackles with thirst. His parched tongue spasms painfully. Even as his entire body trembles, as if he’d caught a chill, a wave of sleepiness washes over him.

“Private Kim! Please, wake up. . . .”