In her highly anticipated Nobel Prize lecture on Saturday, this year’s Nobel Laureate in Literature, Han Kang, shared the profound questions that have shaped her writing and reflected on the connections among her works and their readers.
Delivering her lecture "Light and Thread" in Korean over 25 minutes, Han delved into the questions that compelled her to immerse herself in the creative process, often at the expense of her personal life. Writing a novel, which has taken her anywhere from one to seven years, involves enduring these questions until their essence, rather than clear answers, emerges -- a process she describes as reaching the end of her writing journey.
“Each time I work on a novel, I endure the questions, I live inside them. When I reach the end of these questions—which is not the same as when I find answers to them—I reach the end of the writing process. By then, I am no longer as I was when I began, and from that changed state, I start again,” she said.
Han reflected on the pivotal questions behind her works. Writing "The Vegetarian" from 2003 to 2005, she grappled with: “Can a person ever be completely innocent? To what depths can we reject violence? What happens to one who refuses to belong to the species called human?” Her subsequent novels continued these themes, with "Greek Lessons" exploring whether the softest aspects of humanity could help us endure a violent world.
After “Greek Lessons,” she delved into a fundamental question about humans that lingered her mind for a long time since she saw photographs of victims of the Gwangju massacre at the age of 12: “Is this the act of one human towards another? How are humans capable of such violence? And yet, how do they also stand against such overwhelming violence?”
The Gwangju Democratization Movement marked the last instance of martial law in South Korea - until President Yoon Suk Yeol's shocking declaration of martial law on December 3, a move that surprised many, including Han, who said during a press conference in Stockholm on Friday that "Like many South Koreans, I am deeply shocked over the last few days by the news of a martial law situation unfolding in 2024.”
The crisis was swiftly resolved after the National Assembly voted to end the measure, with the Cabinet formally approving its repeal early Wednesday. However, political turmoil persisted. Less than four hours before Han's lecture, lawmakers attempted to impeach President Yoon, but the motion failed due to a boycott by members of his People Power Party, which prevented the necessary quorum.
At the press conference, Han reflected on literature as the act of exploring others’ inner worlds while simultaneously delving into one’s own. This repeated engagement, she said, cultivates “inner power.” “When we have this power, we can make judgments and decide what to do in unforeseen situations," she said.
For "I Do Not Bid Farewell," she dealt with questions about the limits and extent of love: “To what degree must we love to remain human to the end?”
Han also acknowledged her readers, surprised by the pain they confessed while reading her works, which led her to ask: “Is it that we want to love humanity, and the agony we feel when that love is shattered is evidence of that love? Does love beget pain?”
The 54-year-old writer also said that until the autumn of 2021, when "I Do Not Bid Farewell," was published, she had considered these two problems were the driving force behind her writing: "Why is the world so violent and painful? And yet how can the world be this beautiful?"
However, she recently began to question whether love had always been the underlying focus of her work. “Could it be that love was in fact my life’s oldest and most fundamental undertone?” she wondered.
Han is currently working on a new novel, formally linked to The White Book, which she described as an attempt to temporarily lend her life to her sister, who passed away just hours after birth. While she cannot predict its completion, she expressed a commitment to continue her literary journey.
“Until I round a corner and find that they’re no longer in my line of sight. As far into the distance as my life allows. As I move away from them, my books will continue their lives independently of me and travel according to their own destinies,” she said.
Han concluded her lecture by likening writing to an electric current that connects her to readers.
“When I sense this current being transmitted to the reader, I am astonished and moved. In these moments, I experience the thread of language that connects us -- how my questions relate to readers through that electric, living thing. I extend my deepest gratitude to all those who have connected with me through this thread, and to those who may come to do so,” she said.
