Carey's Reading Notes

Moran Market (2022) by Lee Gyung Hee Korean novel (모란 시장, 이경희 장편 소설) This was a distinct read, told from the perspective of a dog that lives inside a sijang, a Korean traditional market. The book addresses the controversial issue of the Korean dog meat trade. When I was a child, my family used to go to two restaurants that faced each other in an alley. My mom and I would go into the jook (Korean rice soup) restaurant, and my father and brother would go into the restaurant that served dog meat. Restaurants of the latter type still exist in Korea but are not as prominent. The traditional market, sijang, is perhaps the perfect setting to portray the survival of the strongest, but the aggressors, the oppressed and non-conformists all somehow co-exist in this unique ecosystem. There is injustice and violence but also kindness and compassion there. The protagonist - the dog - is heartbreakingly loyal to his master yet he sees the injustice done by humans to animals and to each oth...

Dear Recruiter I was mad yesterday Added up all the years I've been analyzing data Twenty-two, started undergraduate research Twenty-three, published my first paper Thirty-two, got my PhD Forty, finished three postdocs Forty-one, got my first job as a data scientist Twenty years! Half of my life was spent collecting, analyzing and presenting data At forty, I changed career From a neuroscientist working in a laboratory To a data scientist working from home For me, science was all-consuming work done in isolation with little reward I didn't take care of myself I felt like I was never enough Faculty job rejections cut deeper A committee member once asked if I considered myself a tinkerer Questions aimed to reveal if I possessed the magic touch   That would bring in  grant dollars for the next thirty years And if I will have the energy to entertain the students At forty-two, I'm on the job market again Odds are low but you hear from industry quickly Now I'm stro...

Archery Place the arrow on the bow Stretch the string Touch the fingers of my trigger hand to my face Feel the tension of the outstretched bow Look at the target Time stops Until fling! The arrow leaves my hand and flies For an instant my mind is laser focused on the target All else disappears Our bodies, like the bow, store Energy that can be f ocused onto a singular target To produce powerful motion If only for a fleeting moment Never mind how well I hit the target I stopped time 🏹 🎯

Aurora Market's Men (2022) by Lee Gyung Lan Korean novel (오로라 상회의 집사들, 이경란 장편 소설) The story, or rather stories, of the four men in various stages of crisis in life, resonated with me particularly at this time. A young man that quits studying for government job exams and goes on unemployment. His friend, a Gangnam boy, that hasn't quit but struggles with focusing on studying. Another young man who works multiple temp jobs just to make ends meet and hopes that one day he can afford tuition to resume his university studies. An older gentleman looking for a purpose after retiring from a 30-year corporate job. These stories are told through a smooth narrative that is easy to read. I learned some new things about Korean culture, for example, how there are group housing rentals with strict rules (고시텔) specifically for people studying for university or government entrance exams, and whole neighborhoods of 40-year-old apartment buildings become ghost towns because they are c...

Ode to El Stupido (Roborock) Today you tugged on a sash that dangled too low from my robe As I sat drinking my coffee and reading a book on the loveseat Surprised, I pulled on my sash and realizing it is you, I reached down and gave you a little pet When we first got you as a house warming gift from my brother's family We were amazed by your tireless vacuuming and agile travels under beds and couches John set up daily schedules and made boundaries in your AI brain where the different rooms are You used to suck up earphone and charging cords and get stuck I would free you and John would set up No Go Zones in your head One time I was doing yoga in my room and you headed straight for me doing a downward dog  Sometimes you would get lost in the guest room or in the middle of the hallway for no apparent reason That's why we started calling you El Stupido It's a pet name we affectionately call you by (sorry if it offends you) Thank you for being our only pet for now  ...

Ode to Pumpkin the Dog As I rub your gentle belly I'm reminded of a baby's soft and warm skin As you lay there with your eyes closed and sighing one of your deep sighs I remember to be here, in this very moment At first you shook with fear and apprehension When your mommy and daddy left you here as they went on their road trip to Yosemite But soon enough you responded to my gentle petting and reassuring voice You are so good about pooing on cue Except when John walks you, marching you like a soldier When I take you walking to the little neighborhood park I let you explore the grass, tree bark and pine needles covering the ground  And when you stop for a while and enjoy the cool late summer breeze I too get to stop and enjoy the color, sound, feel and smell of the moment Whenever I go to different parts of the house You follow and I can hear the clink clink of your metal tags Sometimes you come looking for me and you gain some speed and your little paws slip and slid...

The Painted Bird (1965) by Jerzy Kosinski After reading a WWII fiction by a Japanese author (see http://careyhuh.blogspot.com/2023/08/reading-notes-on-berlin-ha-hareteiruka.html), this book presented a much darker take on war-torn East Europe. Actually, it may be one of the darkest books on human cruelty I've ever read. I am saddened by the fact that in 2023, Eastern Europe is yet again in war and at least some of the monstrosities described in this book are likely being repeated today. Despite the unspeakable abuse the boy - the main character in the book - goes through, the book ends with some rays of light. Hurtful past can harm and harden us but life presents us with a chance for a better future and, like the boy, I cannot help but believe in lost voices being found again.