Breaking Boundaries in Literature: The Nobel Prize and Korea's Untold Stories

Chapter 2.1 History and Literature from Nietzsche's Perspective

The atmosphere grew somber, a hush falling over the crowd as everyone seemed lost in deep contemplation. It was then that Professor Han Sang-woo picked up the microphone and began to speak.

"From a physicist's perspective, Nietzsche's concept of 'God is dead' resonates closely with our understanding of reality. In the realm of quantum physics, we've learned that absolute truths do not exist. Just as the uncertainty principle tells us that we cannot know a particle's position and velocity simultaneously, the world we know is not fixed but in a constant state of flux," he said, momentarily surveying the audience before continuing.

"Nietzsche's proclamation of the death of God serves as a warning that everything we've believed in can crumble. We now must forge new rules in this new world, but those rules will differ entirely from the ones we've known."

The moderator nodded thoughtfully, a smile gracing his lips. "So, what should we believe as we move forward? Nietzsche suggested that humanity must become its own god. What paths can we choose?"

The discussion became increasingly intricate and profound, each professor weaving their own interpretations of contemporary issues into Nietzsche's philosophy, drawing the audience further into their discourse. I reflected on my upbringing, having been raised in a Christian household. I couldn't entirely deny the existence of God, though I wasn't a devout believer—merely someone who occasionally attended church services. I understood that Nietzsche's declaration of 'God is dead' didn't negate God's existence but rather critiqued the misinterpretations and errors of religious doctrine and the values that humanity should strive for.

As the professors' debate intensified, I turned my gaze to the blonde woman seated beside me. Suddenly, she leaned slightly in my direction, carefully handing me a small note clutched in her hand.

My heart raced as I extended my arm, receiving the note from her fingers. The moment our hands met, my pulse quickened, and I felt a rush of warmth flood my cheeks.

Unfolding the note, I found her uneven, awkward handwriting in Korean: "If you're free, let's grab lunch after the discussion. It's already noon." My face flushed, breath hitching in my throat as I caught her gaze. I couldn't help but blush, feeling as though the room had narrowed down to just her presence, the philosophical discussions fading into the background. Anticipation bubbled within me at the thought of sharing a meal with her.

The discussion concluded, and the moderator expressed gratitude, inviting the audience to applaud. The air buzzed with conversations as attendees shared their reflections.

At that moment, she stood up and approached me, her hand extended cautiously. "Hello, I'm Maya. I came to Korea for my studies from Sweden. I'm pursuing my master's in Western Philosophy at Seoul National University." Her voice was soft, almost melodic.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Choi Jun. You must be hungry; let's continue our conversation over lunch," I suggested, reaching for two meal tickets provided by the hosts. I handed one to her and tucked the other into my pocket.

The hotel buffet was on the 70th floor. As we rode the elevator down, we exchanged light banter. Upon entering the dining area, the vibrant arrangement of fresh fruits and delectable desserts looked like a garden in full bloom. I filled my plate with galbi and salad, then led Maya to a table.

However, an awkward silence enveloped us as we sat down. "The buffet food here is truly extravagant. It's my first time dining at such a high place; it's fascinating," I said, attempting to break the ice.

"I've never eaten at such a height either. This hotel is quite expensive; without opportunities like this, I wouldn't get to experience it. People living here must dine here daily," she replied.

"That's true. As I mentioned earlier, my name is Jun, but if you drop the surname, it's just 'Jun,' which is also the word for June in Korean. I'm curious—does your name, Maya, mean May?" I tilted my head, intrigued.

She laughed, "Oh, yes! So I'm May, and you're June, then!" In that moment, the tension dissipated, replaced by a warm, inviting atmosphere.

Maya hesitantly asked, "How did you end up at this conference?"

"I'm a writer, and I've recently developed an interest in Western classical philosophy. I thought it might help with my manuscript," I replied.

"A manuscript? What topic are you writing about?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"I'm exploring the intersection of parallel universes and literature," I shared, feeling the excitement of our conversation.

"Oh, I'm very interested in parallel universes too! I've read a few books on the subject; it's incredibly captivating," she responded, and our dialogue blossomed.

"Are you also going to Germany for research on November 30th?" she inquired.

"Yes, I actually booked my flight yesterday," I replied.

As we continued exchanging stories, nearing the end of our meal, she asked, "Shall we exchange phone numbers?"

After exchanging numbers, I settled at my desk, eager to write the remaining manuscript. Yet, her smile lingered in my mind, drawing me away from thoughts of parallel universes. Instead, the desire to capture our conversation took precedence. There was a thrill in this feeling.

As I prepared for my month-long trip to Germany, my life became a tapestry woven with two intersecting worlds. By day, I wrote; by night, I exchanged texts with Maya. Each time her messages flew in, they tickled my heart. "How was your day, Jun? How is the manuscript coming along? What thoughts have captured your attention lately?" I couldn't tear my eyes from my phone when those words arrived. Her encouragement, "I'm really curious! I can't wait to see how you connect the two themes," kept my spirits high.

Though the lights in my room dimmed each night, the glow from my phone felt radiant. Sometimes, I gazed out the window at the stars, the particularly bright Polaris seeming to bridge the distance between Maya and me. In this exchange, my fingers raced across the keyboard, stitching together fragments of a story that longed to be told.

Finally, the night before my departure to Germany arrived. As I checked my packed bags and felt a swirl of emotions, I sent Maya a message: "Maya, tomorrow I'm finally leaving. Our conversations have helped me complete my manuscript. Thank you so much."

Moments later, she replied, "Jun, I'm excited too. See you tomorrow!"

Lying in bed, I felt wrapped in a blend of anticipation for my trip and the journey I would share with Maya. The thought that I might put a period at the end of my manuscript in Germany brought me comfort as I drifted into sleep. In my dreams, a figure claiming to be my counterpart from the sixth universe flashed before me, but when I awoke, only the soft winter sun filtered through the tightly drawn blinds, warming my face.

NOTE:

Lotte Tower: A prominent skyscraper in Seoul, known for its height and modern architecture. It is a cultural landmark and houses various attractions, including shopping malls, hotels, and offices.

Signiel: A luxury hotel located on the top floors of Lotte Tower, known for its exquisite views and fine dining.

Kakao Taxi: A popular ride-hailing app in South Korea, similar to Uber, allowing users to easily request a taxi via their smartphones.

Seoul National University: One of the top universities in South Korea, known for its rigorous academic standards. Attending a prestigious institution like this often symbolizes a significant commitment to education, particularly in fields like philosophy.