I recently came across the novel “Seven in Eight” by Do Sun-woo. The unpublished novel, which received the Segye Ilbo Literary Award for 2017, presents a searing criticism of contemporary Korean society. Adopting a detective story technique, it criticizes the chronic problems that have plagued our society for the past few decades. In the novel, a mysterious serial killer murders people who embody social maladies of Korean society. In that sense, the novel reminded me of the Brad Pitt movie “Seven.”

The novel suggests our society is swarming with people who are intoxicated with the notion that they alone represent “justice” and all others embody injustice. Through a series of murders, the killer shows the reader that the Korean people’s strong sense of justice and judgmental attitude can easily degenerate into an obsession of sacred mission, that is to say, a mission to eliminate those whom they perceive as unjust. Perhaps that is why the author is planning to change the title to “Justice Man” when it comes out in book form soon.

The novel also points out that in Korean society, the collective will of the masses represents or even invents the truth that you should believe and follow. Under the circumstances, minority opinions are not respected. You are forced to be in the swim against your will, regardless of your opinions. Koreans call it “public sentiment.” However, Michael Breen, a British journalist, writes in his recent article in “Foreign Policy”: “A more accurate phrase would be the emotion of the masses.” Breen points out, “Koreans even have a saying about it: The law of public sentiment is above the law.”

However, if the “emotion of the masses” was above the law and thus exerted influence on the court’s verdict, it would be wrong. Surprisingly, however, even intellectuals in Korea frequently write, “The court should not ignore public sentiment.” They even use a weird term, “people’s law sentiment,” which does not really make sense because law should be irrelevant to and free from people’s sentiment. The issue at stake here is “how much you trust the people’s spontaneous collective judgment,” as Breen puts it. Another problem is that the “emotion of the masses” can be easily manipulated by those who conspire to use it as a means to gain political power.

The novel also indicts the unauthorized uploading and unscrupulous spreading of someone’s personal photos, which is a serious invasion of privacy. People may do it for fun, but it can ruin somebody’s life or even lead them to commit suicide. Sex tapes of famous female movie stars and singers have circulated on the internet without the person’s knowledge or approval before, ruining careers. This might be a worldwide phenomenon in general, rather than a uniquely Korean phenomenon, but we should exercise discretion.

The same thing goes for the “malicious replies” that hurt other people’s feelings. People viciously and malignantly attack and even slander others while hiding in anonymity. It is nothing but cowardice, and yet people do not seem to realize it, mistaking it for freedom of speech. In other advanced countries, if you insult others or invade their privacy, you will be deprived of your freedom of speech immediately. In Korea, there is a joke that SNS stands not for social networking services, but “seoro nam sipki,” which translates to “criticizing each other.” But there should be decorum and decency even in cyberspace. The novel also warns that in Korea, bloggers can manipulate those who visit their blog.

In the novel, the killer murders a journalist for yellow journalism. Today’s newspapers and TV news channels are busy, not exploring the truth, but getting their scoops by muckraking and scandalizing. Even fake news is ubiquitous and destroys people’s honor and reputation. Yet nobody assumes responsibility. The press should be correct and fair when reporting the news. Unfortunately, our press often acts like tabloids and pulp magazines and loses dignity and integrity.

Another vice of our society the novel indicts is our tendency to bully the weak. It happens virtually everywhere in our society, including schools, barracks and workplaces. But it is cowardice to become weak in front of the strong and strong in front of the weak. The author advises us to become an eagle-like person, not a hyena-like one. The novel also parodies the contemporary Korean society that is rapidly losing Confucian morality and ethics, such as of respecting senior citizens and parents. It also satirizes corrupt politicians and feisty politics in Korea.

While investigating murders by a mysterious serious killer, the novel uncovers representative chronic diseases of Korean society. Of course, the author does not advocate the serial killer’s vengeance. The prize-winning novel suggests: “If only we eliminated those problems, we could build a much better society.” Reading this intriguing novel, I, too, dreamed of a better Korea and world. 


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. He can be reached at sukim@snu.ac.kr. -- Ed.