Entering the (File) Cabinet of Curiosities

A Pomegranate Hive Recommended Read: Un-Su Kim’s “The Cabinet”

The novella fixation has ended, and I am the deep end of new fixation: translated works! Obviously, I’ve read a ton, but this last run was about four novels strong and highly enjoyable. I’m a big advocate of translated works because, not only does it shift us out of the American experience, but good translation doesn’t Americanize the language and so, what has the potential to read in choppy English leaves much room for consideration of the story in its original form.

This said, I honestly haven’t read too many Koreans works in translation, though I’d like to randomly promote that I’m a dedicated fan of Han Kang’s. The Vegetarian, which I believe is what most American readers associate with her name, was amazing, but it is Human Acts that holds my heart. I’ve reread that book about five times. Each time, I remain dazzled by the skill of the narrative there. Arguably, that book is on my top list of must reads. But! This recommendation isn’t about her, it’s about Un-Su!

I randomly came across this book tucked into a corner shelf of Barnes and Nobles within their sci-fi section. I was surprised as I’m not used to seeing a lot of translated works, particularly those coming from smaller presses, appear in the box chain stores. So, to come across a text and author I hadn’t heard of — you bet I was ready to dig in…

…and I finished it in a week, stealing reading sessions in the bathroom and in the checkout line, in-between grading and lecture planning, in the car and wherever I had a pause point. It was really that easy and that enjoyable to interact with and consume.

Let’s Talk About the Bite Size Nature of the Reading Experience!

The book consists of three parts within which are many, many chapters. It has so many chapters I questioned how short the chapters must be to have this many in a book just a bit over three-hundred pages. Upon starting the book, you understand right away and you laugh while you’re at it.

The “cabinet” as a book functions, literally, like a cabinet. It mimics the filing cabinet that the story centers upon, containing the many files of strange humans called “symptomers.” These symptomers are, essentially, humans that have evolved into whatever the next thing is, but it can also be interpreted as humans with abnormalities upon which society looks down upon (this is made clear throughout the book). Some of symptomers can time travel and perform magic — cool! But others are much less cool talents such as developing diet preferences to eat and sustain off of glass, growing a tree out of one’s finger, being able to sleep comparable to hibernation…etc. There’s so many wonky “talents” that you’ll enjoy reading through the strange creations Un-Su imagined up for us.

Because the chapters are essentially single files of each symptomer, the story is loosely connected in a way that renders each chapter its own microcosm of story and experience that doesn’t necessarily need the other chapters to exist. In fact, some of the chapters don’t even cross paths with or intersect with the others at all. Ultimately, what we’re reading is a researcher’s assistant nosing through the files out of boredom. We, as readers, cut in and out of these stories with him as his interests are alternately piqued and disturbed. It’s a series of chapters that might as well be linked short stories, and it delights me so much.

I’ve always loved short, flash-ish fiction, and I can literally imagine this writer creating each tiny individual world centered on an individual life and watching as it grew into a novel.

Creating the Abnormal as Piecemeal

One of the highlights of the novel is Mr. Kong, its protagonist, who is a terribly bored and ordinary, boring office worker who wants nothing more than to continue living his terribly bored and ordinary life. Experiencing the symptomers through his eyes, we get waves of his curiosity his disbelief, and his aggravation in being the one needing to deal with them as the researcher he works with treats these people more as psychiatric patients needing to adapt to their circumstances rather than the physical ramifications of their changes.

In this way, the abnormal is give to Mr. Kong, and the readers, piece by piece in a way that renders them no longer abnormal. This is furthered by the grievances Mr. Kong repeatedly showcases through his irritation of dealing with what comes off as needy patients, which ultimately leads to my next point of interest.

Strangeness as Ordinary as Social Commentary

We know that, socially, we tend to punish that which is different As community, we often “other” those who don’t fit into whatever standards of normal we’ve created, and the world of the novel, which arguably is a very normal and real South Korea, is no different. Mr. Kong and the others around them see difference in the negative.

This is furthered by the existence of an organization that looks for and persecutes the symptomers; thereby, getting rid of that which is different. They harass Mr. Kong continuously for information on the symptomers contained within he files by attempting to blackmail him, buy the information with outrageous sums of money, and/or the eventually physical violence as he continues to evade what they’re asking for. To him, the symptomers are just a pain in the ass, but not folk worthy to be sold out.

He reasons that he doesn’t need the money because he has a job with decent pay. He grumbles that he’s never paid enough, yet continues for years in just this way. In wake of everything strange and abnormal in his life, Mr. Kong, as our perspective and by default of being so extremely normal, renders all of the happenings quite ordinary.

Questionably, Mr. Kong’s navigation through the circumstances in his life asks the reader to consider: how do we respond to the strangeness in our lives? What do we hyperbolize? What do we normalize? As someone who has always been outside the center of “normal” and “othered” for my natural state of being, this is something that I ruminate upon quite a lot.

The Ending

Then, the novel simply ends. There are no more files to go through. Mr. Kong successfully does not give the much sought-for information to the organization, and he ends up, by and large, safe. Then, just like his before the files, he simply continues. The only thing he notes at the end is that he doesn’t know what the future holds because he doesn’t deal with boredom too well.

Ultimately, this huge and laborious magical thing happens to him, and it is completely rendered ordinary. I live for work that explores the intersection of the magical and the mundane, which is exactly what I aspire toward as a writer. In some ways, this novel reminds me of Kawakami’s Parade, though much larger, in which everything is as ordinary as we know it — that is, until we finally realize that the extraordinary has been existing with us, side by side.

Mabuhay, I’m EA Garcia, and I’m a thriving eater of story. I reflect on all my reads across genres, forms, and categories. Since I only read BIPOC work and prioritize small, indie, and micro press work, you might find a new read! I also write on academia, publishing, & decolonization, ftw.

Feel free to recommend things in the comments below! I LOVE recs: particularly books, dramas, manga, & webtoons! Try to keep it BIPOC and marginalized ❤

Read about WHY I only read BIPOC folk, get a taste for my stance on decolonizing bookshelves, or look at some funky reviews of storywork!