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luknelou's review
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
juliwi's review against another edition
5.0
I try to read as much foreign literature as possible and yet there are many countries from which I haven't read anything. The Republic of Užupis is my first foray into Korean literature and I definitely will be continuing my exploration after such a promising start.
The Republic of Užupis is a fascinating novel. Although Goodreads calls it 'Murakami-esque', it reminded me a lot of Kafka and his convoluted narratives in which men go through the strangest experiences, surrounded by people who are at once understanding and rejecting. From the get go Haïlji twists your expectations by setting this novel in Lithuania rather than in Korea. As a Western reader this meant that the setting was both familiar and yet also strangely disconcerting. Haïlji demands for you to pay attention on each page, keep track of what happens and to whom because the story will otherwise make no sense. I enjoy these kinds of reads, where reading is, in some ways, a challenge because what you get out of the book is hard won and therefore feels more precious. Haïlji's narrative is one which constantly twists about and runs in circles. On the one hand it feels as if everything that happens is slightly familiar and yet every new twist is surprising and fascinating. None of the characters seems aware of what is happening and this brings realism to a narrative which is otherwise utterly absurd.
The author stirred controversy in Korea with his Racetrack-novels through the way in which he deals with the contradictions in life and this is something he also does in The Republic of Užupis. He offsets characters and situations against each other which seem utterly ridiculous and yet the reader can't help but feel that if the novel were narrated by one of the other characters their actions would make sense. A big theme throughout the whole novel is the idea of home and missing something that is impossible to find. When do you give up and stop hunting after something everyone tells you doesn't exist? As Han continues on his mad search for Užupis and the reader becomes more desperate to find out what the truth is, Haïlji makes it clear that maybe the truth doesn't matter. Is what Han believes to be true not more important than the actual truth? The Republic of Užupis is bound to leave you with a whole range of interesting questions and conversation starters. It might also make you want to visit Lithuania. I know I'm desperate for a hike through its snowy hills now.
This translation is from the Library of Korean Literature series — a joint venture between the Dalkey Archive Press and the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton do an amazing job at translating Haïlji's intricate fiction. There is no difficulty in their writing and the understanding of the story for a non-Korean. Haïlji's story feels nation- and time-less, as if it could happen everywhere at any point in history, present or future. The novel's strength, then, lies in exactly this. Han's search for his long lost country becomes personal to the reader and Han and Haïlji show that language and borders form no barriers for someone desperate to return home.
Haïlji's The Republic of Užupis is a singular book. By this I mean that I have read nothing like it before. Whereas Kafka's fiction is absurd to the extent that his characters can hardly be identified with, Haïlji infuses his characters with so much realism that the reader can't help but curse our strange world for dooming them so. I recommend this novel to anyone looking for a challenging and fun read. The Republic of Užupis is short, but it will stay with you for a long time.
Link: http://universeinwords.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/review-republic-of-uzupis-by-hailji.html
The Republic of Užupis is a fascinating novel. Although Goodreads calls it 'Murakami-esque', it reminded me a lot of Kafka and his convoluted narratives in which men go through the strangest experiences, surrounded by people who are at once understanding and rejecting. From the get go Haïlji twists your expectations by setting this novel in Lithuania rather than in Korea. As a Western reader this meant that the setting was both familiar and yet also strangely disconcerting. Haïlji demands for you to pay attention on each page, keep track of what happens and to whom because the story will otherwise make no sense. I enjoy these kinds of reads, where reading is, in some ways, a challenge because what you get out of the book is hard won and therefore feels more precious. Haïlji's narrative is one which constantly twists about and runs in circles. On the one hand it feels as if everything that happens is slightly familiar and yet every new twist is surprising and fascinating. None of the characters seems aware of what is happening and this brings realism to a narrative which is otherwise utterly absurd.
The author stirred controversy in Korea with his Racetrack-novels through the way in which he deals with the contradictions in life and this is something he also does in The Republic of Užupis. He offsets characters and situations against each other which seem utterly ridiculous and yet the reader can't help but feel that if the novel were narrated by one of the other characters their actions would make sense. A big theme throughout the whole novel is the idea of home and missing something that is impossible to find. When do you give up and stop hunting after something everyone tells you doesn't exist? As Han continues on his mad search for Užupis and the reader becomes more desperate to find out what the truth is, Haïlji makes it clear that maybe the truth doesn't matter. Is what Han believes to be true not more important than the actual truth? The Republic of Užupis is bound to leave you with a whole range of interesting questions and conversation starters. It might also make you want to visit Lithuania. I know I'm desperate for a hike through its snowy hills now.
This translation is from the Library of Korean Literature series — a joint venture between the Dalkey Archive Press and the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton do an amazing job at translating Haïlji's intricate fiction. There is no difficulty in their writing and the understanding of the story for a non-Korean. Haïlji's story feels nation- and time-less, as if it could happen everywhere at any point in history, present or future. The novel's strength, then, lies in exactly this. Han's search for his long lost country becomes personal to the reader and Han and Haïlji show that language and borders form no barriers for someone desperate to return home.
Haïlji's The Republic of Užupis is a singular book. By this I mean that I have read nothing like it before. Whereas Kafka's fiction is absurd to the extent that his characters can hardly be identified with, Haïlji infuses his characters with so much realism that the reader can't help but curse our strange world for dooming them so. I recommend this novel to anyone looking for a challenging and fun read. The Republic of Užupis is short, but it will stay with you for a long time.
Link: http://universeinwords.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/review-republic-of-uzupis-by-hailji.html
lleullawgyffes's review against another edition
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
eeeeeee's review against another edition
3.0
ne romanas, bet pjesė ant scenos - dalykai nenuspėjamai grįžta, veiksmas vystomas su tuo, kas jau yra.
ar maloni ta pjesė apie užupį ir lietuvos apylinkes? taip. ar veikėjai elgiasi bei bendrauja tikroviškai? hmmm.
visa tai ir primena padavimą arba sapną. žmonės kalba ir aiškina dalykus, bet visuma yra neapčiuopiama, pilnai nepaaiškinama.
man patiko naujas žvilgsnis į užupį ir ilgesinga jo paieška, vilniaus gatvės ir bedidėjantis jų mistikos kiekis. haïlji kviečia atrast užupį ten, kur teka ne vanduo, o užsilikęs ne dumblas.
ar maloni ta pjesė apie užupį ir lietuvos apylinkes? taip. ar veikėjai elgiasi bei bendrauja tikroviškai? hmmm.
visa tai ir primena padavimą arba sapną. žmonės kalba ir aiškina dalykus, bet visuma yra neapčiuopiama, pilnai nepaaiškinama.
man patiko naujas žvilgsnis į užupį ir ilgesinga jo paieška, vilniaus gatvės ir bedidėjantis jų mistikos kiekis. haïlji kviečia atrast užupį ten, kur teka ne vanduo, o užsilikęs ne dumblas.
krankliuk's review against another edition
4.0
Like a nostalgic Inception, with a slight aftertaste of existential dread.
Btw, minor spoiler for the very beginning of the book,
everyone in Lithuania knows about Užupis. They might have been confused because of the photograph, but the airport attendant at the beginning has no excuse
Btw, minor spoiler for the very beginning of the book,
everyone in Lithuania knows about Užupis. They might have been confused because of the photograph, but the airport attendant at the beginning has no excuse
bisexual's review against another edition
challenging
mysterious
reflective
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
you know when people say something is kafkaesque, and you don't really believe it because that word has been diluted to hell? yeah. this actually is kafkaesque. a big The Castle vibe all around.
the whole book has a heavily dreamy quality to it, the narrator functions as their own character of sorts (e.g. by noticing things the main character missed), and it's overall very much a page turner.
4.75/5 ⭐, recommending!
the whole book has a heavily dreamy quality to it, the narrator functions as their own character of sorts (e.g. by noticing things the main character missed), and it's overall very much a page turner.
4.75/5 ⭐, recommending!
arirang's review
4.0
"The black and white postcard showed a lake surrounding an ancient castle, from the steeple of which flew the flag of the Republic of Užupis. The grand castle was built of marble, and it rose against the backdrop of a snow-covered alpine range. Hal failed to notice it was the same postcard he had seen last night at the apartment of Jurgita in Vilnius."
우주피스 공화국 by 하일지 (Ha Il-ji) has been translated into English as The Republic of Užupis by the prolific, and praiseworthy, Fultons (Bruce and Ju-Chan).
It's a fascinating, if brief, work, with strong echoes of Karinthy's Metropole or Ishiguro's Unconsoled, and more classically Kafka's The Castle, but which contains a uniquely Korean perspective.
Hal, a visitor from the Asian country of Han, arrives in Lithuania in search of his ancestral homeland, the Republic of Užupis, which he seems to expect to find as a newly reformed independent state nestling somewhere between Lithunia and Belarus, only to encounter incomprehension.
The locals are bemused and at first assume Hal to be the author or victim of a joke. Užupis means "the other side of the river" in Lithuanian, and there is indeed a rundown district of Vilnius called Užupis, which the local artistic community jokingly self-declared as an independent Republic of Užupis, with for example April 1st (Fool's Day) as the national day. (NB this is indeed actually true outside of the novel http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U%C5%BEupis)
But it soon becomes clear that Hal is in search of a real place, with it's own language (which he finds he can understand when he encounters others speaking it) and with some, admittedly scant, tangible evidence such as the picture on the postcard in the opening quote and a family photograph. Some of those he encounters still treat Užupis as fantasy ("a medal in a photograph - now that's convincing!"), others claim to have lived there themselves, but most disturbingly he discovers he is not the first such visitor from Asia and that others have "wandered around Vilnius for a few days, saying they were going to the Republic of Užupis, and then they shot themselves."
But just as Hal seems to be getting somewhere, his existence takes on a more dream-like state. Certain encounters start to repeat - a mute man (or men - they may or may not be the same character) toting a grandfather clock on his back, an elderly farmer who carries a goose (ditto), a fog-induced cough that is treated by a jasmine-scented soup, and an inherited Montblanc pen and revolver which seems a common possession of those who claim Užupisian ancestry.
And some of the repeats are more than mere coincidence - identical copies of the family photo are in the possession of several characters, all of whom claim is as their own family. And, as per the opening quote, Hal seems to fail to recognise these repeated motives, despite having his own version of the postcard, which indeed, having a Vilnius postmark, bought him to Lithuania in the first place.
Even characters repeat - boys called Kornelius who want to become a basketball players and whose mothers claims their father to be the legendary (and long dead) Užupis poet Urbonas; a strikingly blond lady called Jurgita (but one is young and the other elderly) who has childhood memories from Užupis of presenting a bouquet to the national sporting hero, an Olympic marathon medallist.
As the story progresses, things become more circular - it seems that the earlier visitors were somehow Hal himself, and he may share their fate - a fortune teller prophecies to the middle-aged Hal "you are the grandfather of the holy maiden Jeanne d'Arc, that you will meet your granddaughter and she will be the saviour of your homeland."
Hal's country, Han, is clearly based on Korea, but the choice of the word Han (한) is key. 한 is a important, unique, and untranslatable Korean cultural concept, and the key to the novel.
To quote from D. Bannon's "Unique Korean Cultural Concepts in Interpersonal Relations":
"Han is sorrow caused by heavy suffering, injustice or persecution, a dull lingering ache in the soul. It is a blend of lifelong sorrow and resentment, neither more powerful than the other. Han is imbued with resignation, bitter acceptance and a grim determination to wait until vengeance can at last be achieved. Han is passive. It yearns for vengeance, but does not seek it. Han is held close to the heart, hoping and patient but never aggressive. It becomes part of the blood and breath of a person. There is a sense of lamentation and even of reproach toward the destiny that led to such misery."
The characters in the novel quote a number of Užupis poems by the national poet Urbonas (incidentally written in English by the author in the Korean original book) which illustrate the national psyche, similar to 한 (albeit more humorous). So it seems fitting to close my review with a Korean poem:
"서시" ("Prelude") by 윤동주 (Yoon Dong-Ju):
"죽는 날까지 하늘을 우러러
한 점 부끄럼이 없기를,
잎새에 이는 바람에도
나는 괴로워했다.
별을 노래하는 마음으로
모든 죽어 가는 것을 사랑해야지
그리고 나한테 주어진 길을
걸어가야겠다.
오늘밤에도 별에 바람이 스치운다."
"Let me have no shame
under heaven 'til I die.
Even wind in the leaves
pained my soul.
With a heart that sings of stars
I must love all dying things.
And I must walk the path
given to me.
Tonight also, the wind sweeps over the stars"
우주피스 공화국 by 하일지 (Ha Il-ji) has been translated into English as The Republic of Užupis by the prolific, and praiseworthy, Fultons (Bruce and Ju-Chan).
It's a fascinating, if brief, work, with strong echoes of Karinthy's Metropole or Ishiguro's Unconsoled, and more classically Kafka's The Castle, but which contains a uniquely Korean perspective.
Hal, a visitor from the Asian country of Han, arrives in Lithuania in search of his ancestral homeland, the Republic of Užupis, which he seems to expect to find as a newly reformed independent state nestling somewhere between Lithunia and Belarus, only to encounter incomprehension.
The locals are bemused and at first assume Hal to be the author or victim of a joke. Užupis means "the other side of the river" in Lithuanian, and there is indeed a rundown district of Vilnius called Užupis, which the local artistic community jokingly self-declared as an independent Republic of Užupis, with for example April 1st (Fool's Day) as the national day. (NB this is indeed actually true outside of the novel http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U%C5%BEupis)
But it soon becomes clear that Hal is in search of a real place, with it's own language (which he finds he can understand when he encounters others speaking it) and with some, admittedly scant, tangible evidence such as the picture on the postcard in the opening quote and a family photograph. Some of those he encounters still treat Užupis as fantasy ("a medal in a photograph - now that's convincing!"), others claim to have lived there themselves, but most disturbingly he discovers he is not the first such visitor from Asia and that others have "wandered around Vilnius for a few days, saying they were going to the Republic of Užupis, and then they shot themselves."
But just as Hal seems to be getting somewhere, his existence takes on a more dream-like state. Certain encounters start to repeat - a mute man (or men - they may or may not be the same character) toting a grandfather clock on his back, an elderly farmer who carries a goose (ditto), a fog-induced cough that is treated by a jasmine-scented soup, and an inherited Montblanc pen and revolver which seems a common possession of those who claim Užupisian ancestry.
And some of the repeats are more than mere coincidence - identical copies of the family photo are in the possession of several characters, all of whom claim is as their own family. And, as per the opening quote, Hal seems to fail to recognise these repeated motives, despite having his own version of the postcard, which indeed, having a Vilnius postmark, bought him to Lithuania in the first place.
Even characters repeat - boys called Kornelius who want to become a basketball players and whose mothers claims their father to be the legendary (and long dead) Užupis poet Urbonas; a strikingly blond lady called Jurgita (but one is young and the other elderly) who has childhood memories from Užupis of presenting a bouquet to the national sporting hero, an Olympic marathon medallist.
As the story progresses, things become more circular - it seems that the earlier visitors were somehow Hal himself, and he may share their fate - a fortune teller prophecies to the middle-aged Hal "you are the grandfather of the holy maiden Jeanne d'Arc, that you will meet your granddaughter and she will be the saviour of your homeland."
Hal's country, Han, is clearly based on Korea, but the choice of the word Han (한) is key. 한 is a important, unique, and untranslatable Korean cultural concept, and the key to the novel.
To quote from D. Bannon's "Unique Korean Cultural Concepts in Interpersonal Relations":
"Han is sorrow caused by heavy suffering, injustice or persecution, a dull lingering ache in the soul. It is a blend of lifelong sorrow and resentment, neither more powerful than the other. Han is imbued with resignation, bitter acceptance and a grim determination to wait until vengeance can at last be achieved. Han is passive. It yearns for vengeance, but does not seek it. Han is held close to the heart, hoping and patient but never aggressive. It becomes part of the blood and breath of a person. There is a sense of lamentation and even of reproach toward the destiny that led to such misery."
The characters in the novel quote a number of Užupis poems by the national poet Urbonas (incidentally written in English by the author in the Korean original book) which illustrate the national psyche, similar to 한 (albeit more humorous). So it seems fitting to close my review with a Korean poem:
"서시" ("Prelude") by 윤동주 (Yoon Dong-Ju):
"죽는 날까지 하늘을 우러러
한 점 부끄럼이 없기를,
잎새에 이는 바람에도
나는 괴로워했다.
별을 노래하는 마음으로
모든 죽어 가는 것을 사랑해야지
그리고 나한테 주어진 길을
걸어가야겠다.
오늘밤에도 별에 바람이 스치운다."
"Let me have no shame
under heaven 'til I die.
Even wind in the leaves
pained my soul.
With a heart that sings of stars
I must love all dying things.
And I must walk the path
given to me.
Tonight also, the wind sweeps over the stars"
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