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and ultimate communication channel, one which overcomes the language barrier and the supposed limit of words. However, the way in which she delivers her thoughts, that words are not enough to communicate with your loved ones, is her written word: that’s how she writes. She simply might have wanted to test whether words and the written or spoken language would be able to deliver what she thought as a writer, to prove that written work can still do its work of communication, as much as music does. As time passed, I became seized with doubt. What could have made me freeze like that? Lying in the bed beside M, I listened to the night spreading itself around us, feeling like the end of something. I waited until M was sleeping, but couldn’t fall asleep myself. There were no questions I could ask, and besides, I didn’t even want to listen to whatever she might have to say. So I began to interrogate myself instead. What was this desire for possession that had taken hold of me? Where had it come from, and could I really carry on being burdened by its oppressive weight? Beauty,

delicacy, concern and generosity, peaceful solution, reading, music, and writing… and the union of two souls, found after so long; was it right to have betrayed and destroyed all those things in the work of an instant? Why do humans have this desire for possession and why do we grow savage when we cannot satisfy it? The strains of a single melody, slowly and agonizingly teased from among a thousand other sounds only for its sublime order to be destroyed by a moment’s anger, tearing it down and trampling it underfoot so that it can never be made whole again, calling down clichéd curses on itself and displaying its ugliness to the world as it rends its flesh like a crazed chicken, who can we simply remain indifferent to all this? Why can we do nothing about it? Where does the desire for possession come from? Why does it spit at and ridicule all the ethical questions proposed in the course of long reflection, a journey undertaken within our innermost selves? If it can’t be controlled, then what is there that’s left for us to do; no, given that it can’t be controlled, what else of value can human beings ever hope to achieve? (pp. 95-96)

KOREA February _ 35

201702koreamagazine en  
201702koreamagazine en