Han Kang, author of The Vegetarian, has made history by winning this year’s Nobel Prize in Literature, achieving something few believed possible in this decade. Yet, her remarkable win is already dividing public opinion.
The media eagerly seized upon the unexpected news, with coverage pouring into outlets that had scarcely anticipated such a monumental story. Since the announcement of Han Kang’s award on October 10th, media channels have been buzzing, constantly producing articles, videos, and debates centered on her and her literary works. A particularly vivid example is a Korean publisher’s YouTube channel, where the editor’s live-streamed reaction to the Swedish Academy’s announcement captured the collective excitement. The editor’s stunned, overjoyed, and euphoric response encapsulated the broader exhilaration that has swept through the media since the announcement.
A Korean publisher’s YouTube channel live-streamed their reaction to the Swedish
Academy’s announcement, sharing their elated expressions with viewers.
For many in Korea, this moment has been a long time coming. The poet Ko Un, a notable figure in the democracy movement, was once considered a frontrunner for the Nobel Prize. Every year, journalists would gather outside his house, anxiously awaiting the announcement from Sweden. But after his involvement in the #MeToo movement, any hope for his candidacy faded. Another major contender was Hwang Sok-yong, whose distinguished body of work includes At Dusk, Princess Bari, and The Shadow of Arms, a novel inspired by his own experiences during the Vietnam War.
This list of Korean Nobel hopefuls—spanning decades—has long been a national obsession. Pak Kyong-ni, the author of Toji, a 20-volume epic chronicling the upheavals of the colonial era, was another favorite. Her work, centering on a young girl from a wealthy family fleeing Japanese persecution, has left an indelible mark on Korean literature. The Nobel Prize has become something of a national dream project, and its fulfillment in Han Kang’s win has resonated deeply across the country.
Thus, it was no surprise to hear renowned author Kim Young-ha express his joy over Han’s achievement. He described it as a truly joyful moment for everyone who speaks and writes in Korean, emphasizing the historical significance of the Korean language, which faced the threat of extinction during the colonial era. For Kim, Han’s victory is not just about her literary merit but also about Korean as a language of global recognition. He went further, noting that the question of whether Korean—a language once threatened with erasure—could ever find a place in the constellation of world literature has haunted the country’s collective psyche since liberation. Han Kang’s Nobel Prize, Kim appears to suggest, signals that not only Korean literature but Korea itself is being acknowledged by the global community.
Han Kang is the first Korean Nobel laureate in literature.
This patriotic pride surrounding Han Kang’s win is palpable. The feeling is similar to the national euphoria experienced during the Olympics or international football matches. Yet, as the celebration unfolds, it becomes clear that there is a visible divide between left and right, progressive and conservative, when considering the meaning of Han Kang’s Nobel win. This raises the question: which Korea are we celebrating when we proclaim Han Kang’s Nobel Prize as a triumph for the country?
From a conservative perspective, Korea’s identity is rooted in opposing communism, rejecting anti-American and anti-globalization sentiments, and preserving the achievements of 20th-century economic development. On the other hand, the progressive camp views Korea’s true identity as one that champions democracy, rejects authoritarianism, and seeks independence from the lingering influences of Japanese colonialism. This ongoing battle over Korea’s rightful identity has created two distinct versions of the country, with each camp claiming that their interpretation of history should prevail. The colonial period, the division of Korea, and the 1980 Gwangju Uprising—an event crucial to Korea’s democratization—are key points of contention in this divide, with both sides holding starkly different views of these events.
Cho Kuk, former Minister of Justice under a progressive administration, fueled the debate by stating that the Gwangju Uprising “gave us the Nobel Prize.” His comment alluded to Human Acts, one of Han Kang’s novels, which tells the story of a young boy who gets swept up in the Gwangju Uprising. Cho’s remark has been criticized as an attempt to monopolize Han’s Nobel Prize for the progressive camp, which has long been accused of using the Uprising as an exclusive source of moral authority. By drawing a direct line between the Uprising and Han’s global recognition, Cho seemed to suggest that the progressive movement, which claims the Uprising as its moral high ground, is intertwined with the world’s acknowledgment of Han’s work.
The National Assembly Library held a special exhibition on Han Kang.
On the conservative side, novelist and columnist Kim Kyu-na harshly criticized the Swedish Academy, arguing that they misunderstand Korean history. She claimed that Human Acts distorts the truth by portraying the Korean Army as responsible for massacring civilians in Gwangju, calling Han’s novel a “whoring of history.” Kim’s criticism highlights the clear fault lines between the left and right in Korea, with even a prestigious international award like the Nobel Prize becoming yet another battleground for ideological division.
What gets lost in this political tug-of-war is the real strength of Han Kang’s work. Her novels resonate not just with Koreans, but with anyone who has experienced violence—whether on an individual or collective level. The characters in her books represent more than just victims; they stand as powerful accusations against any form of brute force that seeks to strip away human dignity. Han’s characters, though caught up in the violent currents of history, are never mere passive sufferers. Instead, they actively search for a way to preserve their humanity in the most inhumane circumstances. This is a message that transcends politics and ideologies, offering a vision of resilience and dignity that speaks to people around the world.
Yet, in the current climate, Korea seems unable to fully comprehend the significance of Han’s work, bogged down as it is in its internal left-right political strife. There is a pressing need for a new narrative—one that transcends these divisions and centers human values above all else. Only then can Korea truly appreciate the depth of Han Kang’s achievement and the broader implications of her Nobel Prize win.