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The man was about to take a step after heaving up the loaded jige and adjusting the shoulder straps. 

It might have been because the horns of the jige were particularly long. 

With the horns jutting above the load toward the sky and extending parallel to the ground, the porter getting ready to go resembled a beautiful horned creature that was just about to move its magnificent horns. 

사나이의 얼굴은 계속 진행방향과는 반대쪽인 

가순호 쪽으로 향해져 있었고,

그의 얼굴은 서서히 기쁨으로 타오르는

아름다운 얼굴로 바뀌어가고 있었다.        

The jige porter kept his face toward Ga Sun-ho, totally opposite of the direction he should be taking. His face was changing beautifully, slowly burning up with joy.       

견고하고 아름다운 뿔을 앞세우고 얼굴은 뒤로 향한,

그 세상에서 처음 보는 기이하고 아름다운 운동체는

한 마리 힘찬 짐승처럼 민첩하게 나아갔다.

With the strong, magnificent horns facing forward and his body facing the back, this new and strange yet beautiful moving object started walking rapidly like a powerful animal. 

가순호는 용솟음치는 기쁨을 맛보았다.

그리고 사나이의 빛나는 얼굴을 마주 보면서 

그 힘찬 짐승을 뒤쫒기 시작했다.

Ga Sun-ho experienced overwhelming joy. He started after the mighty animal as he continued to look at the man’s shining face.

# Interview with SNU Korean literature professor Bang Min-ho

In the 1960s and 70s, jige porters were disappearing in the waves of modernization. The jige, the traditional Korean backpack carrier, does really resemble a creature with two outstretched horns. Those horns represent an herbivore that resists modernization. The force of modernization is hard to resist, but the porter still walks backwards, backing toward his destination. What does the act of turning one’s back signify? It means rejection, discomfort. But he still has to go toward his destination. The story demonstrates what it means to be reaching for a goal unwillingly. Walking backward is a very good metaphor for this kind of situation. 

변두리 교회 하나를 맡아서 하느님만 갈구하며 살고 있는 아버지 내외와

별 정치적 신념도 없으면서 타성적인 야당 생활을 하고 있는 맏형,

육사를 우수한 성적으로 졸업하고 

임관 이후 어느 동기생보다도 빠른 진급으로 중령에 이르러 있는 둘째 형,

미국인 상사의 비서실에 근무하면서

도미 계획을 착착 실천에 옮기고 있는 누이동생,

이상주의자다운 명석한 조직능력도 없이 무턱대고 노동운동에 가담하고 있는 셋째 형,

그리고 잡지사 근처에 있는 다방을 드나들며 책 읽는 친구들과 어울리고

어쩌다 글줄이나 얻어 싣게 되거나 번역거리라도 맡게 되면

거기서 얻은 푼 돈으로 간신히 하숙비나 물게 되는 것이 고작인 가순호 자기 자신.

He had parents who ran a small church on the outskirt of town and always yearned for God, the oldest brother who lived the life of a habitual dissident without any political conviction, another older brother who graduated from the Korea Military Academy at the top of his class and now serves as lieutenant colonel after climbing up the promotional ladder faster than any of his classmates since his commission, a younger sister who is unwaveringly carrying out a plan to move to America while working as a secretary at a foreign company, and yet another older brother who is involved in a labor movement without a clear organizational capability of an idealist. And then there is Ga Sun-ho himself, who frequents a coffee shop near a magazine publisher to mingle with other reading enthusiasts, who can barely pay for his room and board with what little money he makes by writing a few lines for the magazine or translating something. 

이렇게 주욱 머리에 떠올려봐도

누구 하나 참으로 사람답게 살고 있다고 믿어지는 사람은 없다.

Of all the people he recalled in his mind, no one was living the life of a decent human being.

---

Cho Hae-il (Born in China, Apr. 18, 1941~Jun. 19, 2020)

Debuted with short story “A Person Who Dies Everyday” in 1970