I have often thought that I would have been quite miserable if I were born 20 or 30 years ago. I would have to go through the hell of the college entrance exam, which I surely would not have survived. For one thing, I am not quick at figures, and with my poor math score, any university I applied to would have rejected me. These days, prestigious universities demand almost perfect scores in every subject. 

Suppose I was lucky enough to be accepted by a university, I still would not have been able to get a job after graduation. The job market today is so competitive that there are numerous unemployed college graduates in Korea. Undoubtedly, I would be one of them, frustrated every time I had to fill out job application forms, well aware that I would be turned down again.

Even if I were fortunate enough to find a job, I would have to face yet another trial. I would have to put on makeup or go under the knife to make myself attractive to women. I am not talking about wearing men’s cologne or aftershave lotion, but real makeup, including cosmetic powder, thick foundation and even lipstick. And I do not mean simply having double eyelid surgery. I mean serious procedures such as facelifts, jawbone sharpening, or nose jobs. 

These days, Korean women want “pretty boys” and so if you are not cute and handsome, you are doomed to a life of celibacy. In the past when most Korean women were homemakers, they did not care about their husband’s looks, as long as he brought home the bacon. Today, however, many Korean women work and thus are financially secure. Naturally, they have become particular about their husband’s appearance.

I once heard a single girl casually remark, “I want a handsome man waiting for me at home when I return after a long, hard day at work.” In the past, men used to say such things. Now the situation is reversed. The thought that if I were in my 20s now, I would not be able to have a girlfriend or a wife unnerves me.

I also feel lucky when I see so many Ph.D.’s who are still unemployed. When I returned from the States 32 years ago, I was the fifth Ph.D. in English literature in Korea. Perhaps the rarity of Ph.D.’s in English helped me become a professor easily. These days, there are simply too many Ph.D.’s in English. The Age of Heroes is over now. There are too many heroes nowadays and you have to compete with them, which is by no means easy.

I think I am also lucky whenever I hear of the psychological disorders today’s young people are experiencing. My generation did not have the luxury of suffering such things. Suppose I sat on the couch of a psychiatrist for a mental checkup, the doctor would ask me, “What would you do if you were in a messy room?” I would answer, “I would clean the room and sort things out immediately. I cannot stand a messy environment.” He would continue, “What about the books piled up on your desk?” My answer would be “I would stack them neatly.”

Intrigued by my answer, the psychiatrist would ask me. “How often do you wash your hands?” “A dozen times a day, I presume.” Then the doctor would diagnose me, “You seem to be obsessed with cleanliness. You look like a germaphobe too, just like Sheldon in ‘The Big Bang Theory.’” But the truth is that I simply want to be neat and hygienic. 

The psychiatrist would ask yet another question, “Do you have problems with throwing things away?” “Yes, I cannot ditch my possessions easily, even if they become useless. I have strong attachment to my stuff.” “Then you have a hoarding disorder,” the doctor would announce solemnly.

But the truth is that I just want to take care of things that belong to me. I cannot ditch things or people simply because they are no longer useful to me. 

The doctor would grin and keep asking, “Do you like a crowded place or a secluded one?” “I prefer a secluded place.” “Do you like to socialize with people or do you want to be alone?” “I prefer to be alone in a quiet place, even though I like socializing with people.” Then, the doctor would say, “I think you have social anxiety disorder.” But the truth is I am simply an introvert.

Compared with today’s young people, I feel lucky. At the same time, however, I envy them because they enjoy material abundance, cutting-edge technology, and cultural prosperity, which my generation could not afford. Despite hardships, today’s young people have unlimited possibilities. Unlike my generation, they can hold the world in their arms. Thus, I often wonder, “Are we the lucky generation?” I hope they turn out to be the ones who are the lucky generation, not us.  

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. — Ed.