prolog

Land of Weapons, Sea of ​​Musical Instruments, Gyeongju Gampo
For those traveling in the summer, visit Gyeonggi Bay Lighthouse
The light of labor brighter than the sun, Yeongilman
The flow of the mountains has no boundaries. On the central front.
Between the 100,000-year-old horizontal and the 30-year-old vertical, Ilsan New Town in Goyang
The Old Dream of Utopians: Gapyeong Mountain Village
The noble are bound to be powerful. The old site of Godalsa Temple in Yeoju.
The expressions of the roads: From Deoksanjae to Mulhanri
How many bends does Mungyeong Saejae have? - Haneuljae, Jireumjae, Sojoryeong, Mungyeong Saejae
If you go there, you will find the light of Toegye's heart. Dosan Seowon and Andong Hahoe Village.
Paradise in Hell: Sikyeongjeong, Soswaewon, and Myeonangjeong
The boundless mountains and rivers of the confession and the temple of Bulguksa
The paths of life and death are intertwined. A journey through Namhansanseong Fortress.
The Gyeongui Line road crossing the field of the War Memorial in Paju
Admiral Yi Sun-sin, on his boundless simplicity and pure sword. Jindo Bridge
The royal road in the heart becomes a castle on the ground: Suwon Hwaseong Fortress
The quiet fire in the kiln, in Gwaneum-ri
Spring in Mangwol-dong, Gwangju
Towards the things I missㆍSeonamsa Temple
The Hand of Maitreya, who descended to the human village, and the Anseong Dolmiruk
A Meditation on the Face, Inside and Out: Gwangju Face Museum
The landscape of distribution without power: Moran Market
People of the mountain village, Doma Ridge Jodong Village
Circular island, Jindo Sopo-ri

In publishing the book
Republishing

A feast of Kim Hoon's prose, born at the edge where body, mind, and landscape meet and separate!

Kim Hoon's prose, "Bicycle Travel," which can be considered the essence of his prose, has been republished.

He once said, “I like sentences that neatly organize only the facts.”
His language always tries to be as close to the truth as possible.
His language, which rewrites “the flowers bloomed” as “the flowers bloomed,” his language that distances itself from the world of opinions and emotions and attempts to objectively state physical facts, his language that indicates precise facts without flowery rhetoric, is infinitely beautiful precisely because of that.
His writings, which speak strictly of roads and landscapes, contain aspects of our lives more vividly than those of any other writer.

In his sentences, the road, the landscape, and the image of our lives are not separate.
They meet, separate, become entangled again, become one, and then become their own again.


Spring neither comes to this mountain nor leaves it.
Spring is always there, it's just winter now.

Spring mercilessly reveals the hidden aspects of destiny, and those who are moved by it become pale and withered in the spring light.
The sadness of the body drying up in spring is Chunsoo.
(…) It seems that it takes time to realize that death is a natural process, just like the end of day and the beginning of night.

What goes uphill is going downhill.
Every ascent and every descent is exactly like the path on the ground.
As the ups and downs are equal, when you look back after going all the way, the road is ultimately flat.


When you ride a bicycle and row, the roads of the world flow into your body.
(…) On the path that flows and flows, the body opens infinitely, and the open body leads the body forward again.
On the rolling wheel, the body is not the body of old time, but the body of the present.

When you enter the light, the light recedes further away, so you cannot touch the light while in the light…

A place with no stitches or clean stitches is paradise.
If a stitch bursts, it's hell, and all stitches in this world will eventually burst, and they will inevitably burst.

He once said, “I am not clear-headed enough to deny in the name of logic what the body proves.”
Perhaps the reason his prose is so famous is because it is written with the body, not with thoughts.

In his writing, he talks about how to choose squid, how to choose flounder, and how to extract good salt.
It tells the story of the simple lives of children in Deokchi Village in Seomjin River, taught by poet Kim Yong-taek.

Insu grew up in his grandmother's arms.
Insu's grandmother passed away last year.
Insu cried a lot.
'My grandmother passed away.
My heart is sad.
'I am really sad,' Insu wrote in his diary that day.
Insu became a rather gloomy child after his grandmother passed away.
I eat alone even during lunch time.
(…)
Eunmi's grandmother's grave is on the hillside on the way to school.
When the mean boys at school tease and annoy Eun-mi, she stops by her grandmother's grave on the way home, tells her everything the bad guys did, and cries.
Eunmi's heart has opened up a bit these days.
Her sadness has subsided somewhat, and she plays well with her friends, and the children no longer tease her.
Eunmi has really had a hard time.

After describing it as it is, without any evaluation or sentiment, he adds:

The story of Maam Branch School is endless and boundless.
In this small school with only 17 students, new stories spring up every day in everyday life.
Every day is a new day with a new story.
Stories are born endlessly in life.
What a beautiful and exciting thing this is.
In spring there are stories of spring, and in the morning there are stories of morning.
There is nothing that is not there, everything is there.
There is love and death, poverty and sorrow, hope and longing.
There is the agony of a young soul coming to understand the evils of the world, and the excitement of growth reaching out to the world.
This is the world, this is the place of life, this is the place where life and learning intertwine.

When he talks about roads, landscapes, and seasons, our lives are all contained within them.
It is not a metaphor or a simile, but the sentence itself is our life.
The landscape and our lives correspond one-to-one in his sentences.
As humanist Park Woong-hyun said, not only is this book “overflowing with new sentences that shake the heart no matter how many times you read it,” but you can also see his sentences approaching you with a different meaning each time you open the book.