Chapter 190 |
TL: KSD
Ahn Joo-hee was someone who didn’t like tteokbokki precisely because of the societal stereotype that all high school girls must love tteokbokki.
Likewise, she disliked BTS because of the assumption that people her age would be crazy about BTS, and she avoided any fashion trend simply because it was in vogue.
What about Moon In, whom all Korean citizens had heard of at least once on the news (or even variety shows) as a K-genius boy?
It would be strange to like him.
To put it simply, she had hipster tendencies, and to put it precisely, it was a yearning for uniqueness.
The kind of uniqueness that Ahn Joo-hee yearned for as a literary student was none other than the tradition of the established literary world.
And Park Chang-woon,
Was the very embodiment of the living, breathing tradition and authority of the established literary world.
“……”
An outstanding figure who could never be left out when discussing the history of modern Korean literature.
Park Chang-woon, to the girl looking at him with bright, eager eyes, answered.
“No? Just someone who looks like him?”
“What?”
EP 11 – Evening Bell
Though everyone was mistaken due to how naturally he acted as the homeroom teacher for the first-year students at Baekhak Arts High School, Park Chang-woon was in fact a clear-cut ‘newcomer’ (who had parachuted in by blackmailing the Chairman).
Of course, there had already been a teacher assigned to be in charge of the first-year class at Baekhak Arts High School, and the first-year curriculum for the Creative Writing Department had long since been organized.
If Park Chang-woon also took over the classes, the original homeroom teacher would become a redundant staff member.
And this wasn’t a cozy public school but a cold-hearted private school.
Useless teachers are cut off without mercy.
Fortunately, Park Chang-woon wasn’t someone who blindly worshipped such cold capitalism, and he willingly stepped back from the frontlines of teaching, allowing the original teacher to keep their position.
However, because of that, Park Chang-woon ended up becoming a peculiar homeroom teacher who never saw his students’ faces during class time.
Moreover, because he frequently skipped both morning and afternoon homeroom sessions as he pleased, Park Chang-woon’s presence was practically no different from a ghost.
Therefore, the first-year students in the Creative Writing Department at Baekhak Arts High School didn’t realize that the occasionally appearing homeroom teacher Park Chang-woon was the very Park Chang-woon who appeared in their textbooks.
Of course,
Students from Baekhak Arts Middle School were an exception.
‘Wh-why is the department head teacher here…?!’
Especially the two girls close to Moon Ji-seop and Ahn Joo-hee were utterly shocked the moment they saw Park Chang-woon.
Watching the two girls clutch each other in cosmic fear, Park Chang-woon sighed.
‘Ahh- I’ve been found out-’
Park Chang-woon silenced them.
‘Don’t tell anyone…’
‘Why…?’
‘If everyone finds out I’m that Park Chang-woon… they’ll make me be the department head, won’t they.’
‘……’
Having grown used to Park Chang-woon’s eccentricity over the past three years, the two girls gave up thinking at that point.
They simply found the idea of having to spend another three years with this teacher to be utterly tiresome.
(If Chairman Baek Yi-hyun had heard them, he would have empathized deeply)
At any rate, thanks to that, the secret was kept, and Park Chang-woon’s happy-happy power-hidden school life was also preserved.
As a result of that thorough secrecy,
Ahn Joo-hee was uncertain for about three seconds at Park Chang-woon’s “I’m not Park Chang-woon” remark.
In other words, from the fourth second onward, there was no room for doubt.
“……Aren’t you really Author Park Chang-woon?”
“Ugh…”
Park Chang-woon let out a sigh.
“Fine! I am Park Chang-woon! So what are you going to do about it?!”
“…!”
“…!”
“…!”
Because Park Chang-woon said it so resolutely, all the club members were startled.
But what could they do? The surprise soon turned into bewilderment.
Of course, the most flustered one was Ahn Joo-hee.
She never imagined her first encounter with the literary elder she admired would happen so abruptly like this.
At that moment, Moon In opened his mouth.
“You startled the kids. Why are you joking around like that?”
“I thought she looked too nervous, so I wanted to help her relax a bit…”
“I think it made her even more nervous, though.”
At Moon In’s scolding, Park Chang-woon, now a pitiful old man, quickly relaxed his expression and continued his self-introduction.
“Uh, right. I’m that Park Chang-woon of ‘Circulation’. Not Kakashi of the Sharingan, what is Park Chang-woon of ‘Circulation’ supposed to mean? Looks like you enjoyed ‘Circulation’ quite a bit. Thanks.”
“Y-yes, y-y-yes…”
Ahn Joo-hee blushed, recalling how she had shouted ‘Park Chang-woon of ‘Circulation’?!’ the moment she saw him.
Park Chang-woon chuckled at Ahn Joo-hee and casually walked to the front of the teacher’s desk.
Thanks to his long years of lecturing experience, the space between the chalkboard and the teacher’s desk felt like exactly where Park Chang-woon belonged.
He quickly took control of the classroom atmosphere.
“Hey, Byeol and Hyo-chan, it’s been a while. Didn’t think I’d see you again in high school. You damn persistent brats…”
“Hello.”
“Yoo-na and Hyo-min are familiar faces too… and who’s that?”
“Ah, hello! I’m Moon Ji-seop from the Creative Writing Department!”
“Oho, your name is quite similar to In-seop’s?”
“We’re from the same orphanage, so we have the same family name and generational name!”
“Aha… sounds like the director treats the children like his own. Right?”
“Yes! He’s a very respectable person!”
“What’s the director’s full name?”
“His name is Moon Chung-jae.”
“Okay, I’ll remember that.”
After going around the club members one by one, Park Chang-woon naturally turned his gaze to the last member, Ahn Joo-hee.
Even though she knew her turn was coming, Ahn Joo-hee’s heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t wait those few seconds.
“Hello! I’m Ahn Joo-hee!”
“Uh… right… Joo-hee, is it?”
“Yes!”
Not long ago, when Moon In had said, ‘Well, of course I know you’ Ahn Joo-hee had been hit with a dopamine bomb of joy. Now, she desperately wanted to ask Park Chang-woon if he knew her too, but her last remaining rationality held her back, telling her not to create 20 years’ worth of dark history and to stay still.
However, that same rationality also pushed her with a dark desire to show that she was different from the other members who didn’t even know literature well.
“Author-nim, I was really moved by ‘Circulation’! I also enjoyed ‘Curtain Call’ and ‘Black Department Store’, and ‘Apgujeong Typewriter’ and ‘Three Lives’ too…”
More than a greeting, it was practically a boastful declaration of “I’ve read this much of your work!”
Veteran writer Park Chang-woon naturally didn’t miss the implication behind the excitement.
“Ahn Joo-hee.”
“Yes…?”
“Why are you trying so hard to impress me?”
Ahn Joo-hee felt as though the blood vessels that had been boiling with excitement suddenly froze over. It was the natural fear felt by someone whose inner thoughts had been exposed.
Even the other club members watching could feel the chilly atmosphere, and Park Chang-woon smoothly shifted the conversation into a lesson.
“I’m not trying to call you out or anything, so think it over and answer carefully. Hm? Why are you trying to impress me by saying you’ve read this and that?”
Ahn Joo-hee summoned the last of her courage to respond.
“Be-because I’m a fan…”
Park Chang-woon snapped his fingers.
“That’s it.”
Before they knew it, the once-loose classroom was enveloped in silence. Even Min Hyo-chan, who was usually the king of slacking off, quietly slipped his phone away under the weight of the atmosphere.
Confirming that all eyes were now on him, Park Chang-woon began to speak, not as if delivering a lecture, but like he was chatting casually at a drinking table.
“Wherever I go, whoever I meet, I always hear the same thing. I’m a fan, I’m an avid reader, I’ve read this and that… it’s always like that.”
“……”
“Oh, sure, part of it is that I’m kind of a big-deal novelist. But basically, people tend to revere novelists a bit. Maybe it’s because Joseon was a country of scholars? Anyway, especially when I see people like our Joo-hee, who are learning to write, interact with established writers like me, it’s like we’re royalty or something.”
With a confident stride, Park Chang-woon left the teacher’s desk and perched on the windowsill.
Then he threw open the window and pulled out a cigarette.
“Ah, sorry. Mind if I smoke a bit?”
Everyone unconsciously nodded.
Park Chang-woon gave an awkward smile but shamelessly lit up.
“Alright, alright, you’re all high schoolers, so cut me some slack. Don’t tell the other teachers…”
Hoo-
Park Chang-woon leaned his face out the window and exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke.
Then, with the cigarette gently smoldering between his index and middle fingers, he continued the class.
“Where was I… Ah, right. Korean people tend to revere novelists a bit too much. I was going to start talking about that…”
Park Chang-woon pointed at Min Hyo-min with the hand not holding the cigarette.
“Son Heung-min, Bong Joon-ho, and the beloved youngest of Korea’s pride Benivis’s adorable Min Hyo-min.”
“Uwah- yes, sir!”
Min Hyo-min replied, embarrassed.
Laughter briefly rippled through the room, and Park Chang-woon asked,
“Hey, Hyo-min. When you do fan meetings, do your fans come up to you bowing low, saying, ‘Oh, dear idol Min Hyo-min, I was deeply moved by your latest song’ and grovel like that?”
There are certainly a few people like that.
However, Min Hyo-min wasn’t the type to break the mood of the class with a socially awkward answer.
“No, not really.”
“Right? The emotions fans direct at you, are they closer to ‘respect’ or to ‘affection’?”
“Affection!”
“Exactly.”
Park Chang-woon shifted his gaze from Min Hyo-min to the entire classroom.
“That’s because our Min Hyo-min is a fine entertainer. It’s a profession that gives people ‘joy’. But people, while they may like or feel grateful toward someone who brings them joy, don’t tend to respect them. Right?”
“……”
“Then why do people ‘respect’ novelists? It’s because what novelists offer isn’t ‘joy’. What a novelist gives people is…”
Park Chang-woon grinned and raised his index finger toward the ceiling.
“‘Teaching’.”
Park Chang-woon exhaled more smoke out the window and continued his instruction.
“Literature is closer to academia than content, and people usually read books not for fun but to learn something. That’s why a novelist essentially plays the role of a teacher imparting knowledge. In that sense, it’s only natural that students respect their teachers. And in an era dominated by entertainers, it’s just as natural that novelists, who go around trying to teach people this and that, are becoming obsolete…”
Clap! Park Chang-woon’s hands snapped the conversation back to the main point.
“A book is a medium for transmitting information. Sounds obvious, right? But when you look closer, it’s actually a bit sneaky. Because the moment you read a book, that information spreads into your brain. Then critical thinking becomes difficult. Therefore, while reading a novel, you’re naturally absorbing the writer’s way of thinking, ideology, and philosophy. And then, after going through that learning process, let’s say you close the book and try to evaluate it. At that point, how many people can really say, ‘Nope, I don’t agree with that’?”
As Park Chang-woon said, the students who had begun learning something naturally nodded in agreement with him.
Seeing that, Park Chang-woon smiled slyly.
“That’s why books are such effective tools for brainwashing. There’s a reason people in power always burn books first. So the conclusion is, liking a certain novel means you’re submitting to the teachings of its writer.”
Park Chang-woon playfully pointed at Ahn Joo-hee.
“Joo-hee. That’s the very reason you were trying so hard to impress me earlier. While reading my books, you were unknowingly brainwashed by me.”
“Yes…”
Even now, it was the same. Ahn Joo-hee replied in a dazed voice, as if she really had been brainwashed by Park Chang-woon’s lesson.
And that wasn’t a quality of a good novelist. Park Chang-woon raced toward the final conclusion of this short story.
“Therefore! Good novelists can largely be divided into two types. The ones who write great literature that charms people with abundant experience and wisdom! These are usually ultra-elite intellectuals like Umberto Eco or Gu Hak-jun!”
“……”
“And the other type is, even though there’s nothing in their heads, they write however they fucking want, saying they’re going their own way, like me, Park Chang-woon and…”
Even in the midst of all this, Park Chang-woon grabbed Moon In’s head with both hands, as the latter was ignoring the class and typing away at his novel on his laptop.
“This little bastard.”
“……”
“The type like Moon In.”
Park Chang-woon nonchalantly brushed past Moon In, who was glaring at him with intense hostility.
And then he wrapped up the class.
“Anyway, good philosophers, professors, and agitators can become good novelists. And this kind of person must value their own opinion more than anyone else’s. That’s the first step!”
As Park Chang-woon ended the class, he wore a big, cheerful smile, lost in nostalgia from his days teaching college students.
But then as now, Park Chang-woon was the kind of teacher with a nasty streak, and he didn’t forget to assign homework as he wrapped up the class.
“Alright! To become a novelist rather than just a reader, you need to be someone who gives lessons, not someone who just blindly receives them, right? For that, you need critical reading skills to extract teachings from others’ texts and analyze them!”
“……”
“So next time, we’re going to rip Moon In’s writing to shreds. Not me, you guys are going to rip it apart. Everyone read Moon In’s latest piece by next week and write a report listing only its flaws. No page limit. That’s all!”
With that, Park Chang-woon fled the classroom wearing a radiant smile.
“…?”
The confusion and shock were left for the rest to deal with.
“…!”
*****
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