I remember being mesmerised by the story of a photo studio that printed pictures of people’s dreams.
What I read in my early childhood were children’s books by Korean writers such as Kang So-cheon or Ma Hae-song. Before I made friends in a strange neighbourhood, I had my books with me every afternoon.
Despite the frequent moves, I could feel at ease thanks to all those books protecting me. To me, books were half-living beings that constantly multiplied and expanded their boundaries. A deluge spilled out from the shelves, covering the floor in disorderly towers like a secondhand bookstore where the organising had been put off for ever. (Aug.When I was a child, my father, a young and poor novelist, kept our unfurnished house packed with books. With these revelations, the creatures hone their analysis: “You are big and you are small.” Start a discussion on the difficulty of establishing standards-or else just read it and giggle. The argument changes when a massive, Godzilla-size foot lands in the middle of the spread (“Boom!”), followed by a tiny creature who descends with a parachute. “They are just like me!” But there’s a gang of smaller ones, too. “See?” A page turn reveals a whole gang of larger creatures just his size. “I am not big,” says the larger one, paw to his chest. You are big,” replies the smaller one, pointing back. “You are small,” says the larger one, pointing an accusatory paw. Weyant, a New Yorker cartoonist, draws two pudgy bearish creatures with bean-like noses-clearly the same species, but different in scale (and in color, it should be noted, though it never comes up). Like Rosenthal and Lichtenheld’s Duck! Rabbit!, the debuting husband-and-wife team of Kang and Weyant uses the picture book form for a sophisticated philosophical debate.
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