Towards the vanishing point of the forest
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Description
Book Introduction
The most beautiful dream within a dream in the history of Korean poetry
A collection of poems that becomes body heat in the maze of the forest called others.
Poet Yang Anda, who debuted in 2014 with the recommendation of a new writer from “Modern Literature” and has published poetry collections such as “A Book of the Small Future,” “Forever with Rumors of the White Night,” and “At the End of the World, We,” has published her new poetry collection, “Toward the Vanishing Point of the Forest,” as the 271st book of Minum’s poetry collection.
From long poems bordering on epic to short, intense images, the poetic speaker tirelessly explores the maze of the forest of others.
It is only when he reaches the vanishing point of the forest that he discovers.
The forest is burning.
Only through this kind of overturned image does our senses open wide to the other.
The death of the other, the sorrow of the other, the love of the other, the heart of the other… … In this collection of poems, there are beautiful lips that confess to being defeated by all of these.
A collection of poems that becomes body heat in the maze of the forest called others.
Poet Yang Anda, who debuted in 2014 with the recommendation of a new writer from “Modern Literature” and has published poetry collections such as “A Book of the Small Future,” “Forever with Rumors of the White Night,” and “At the End of the World, We,” has published her new poetry collection, “Toward the Vanishing Point of the Forest,” as the 271st book of Minum’s poetry collection.
From long poems bordering on epic to short, intense images, the poetic speaker tirelessly explores the maze of the forest of others.
It is only when he reaches the vanishing point of the forest that he discovers.
The forest is burning.
Only through this kind of overturned image does our senses open wide to the other.
The death of the other, the sorrow of the other, the love of the other, the heart of the other… … In this collection of poems, there are beautiful lips that confess to being defeated by all of these.
- You can preview some of the book's contents.
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index
My Little Closed Ward 11
The World of Phones 17
Summer Sleep 21
24 because I don't know your address
A Thousand Forms of Fear 27
My Beautiful and Incredible Coincidence 33
If the world were to collapse tomorrow, 40
Glass Bird 42
Imperfect and unstable 47
The Curved Sword and Magnolia 53
62 in a dream within a dream
Every time I spoke of sadness incorrectly, I fell along with happiness, so 64
Bye Bye Baby Blue 68
Piece of Dream 73
We are divided within the prism (top) 78
We are divided within the prism (Part 2) 86
Parachute 96
Aftereffects 98
Indian Summer 103
Lost Highway 106
111 holding a broken umbrella in the pouring rain
nosmokingonlyalcohol 120
xan 123
Waltz for X 127
Who owns the knife when cutting the cake? 128
If what you hold in your hand is a scream, 132
Perception 140
deja vu 145
Two People Face Each Other, Two Dreams 150
Reje Drama 156
Depressive episode 163
Record of a Long Vacation 168
Come see me and the sheep 174
Cinephile 175
Almond Tree Guide 187
The Forest of Crying Alone 191
Dance of Dying Alone 198
Dreaming Alone 204
Gravity 205
Other Summer Days 222
Commentary on the work - Park Dong-eok
The Vanishing Point of Language 229
The World of Phones 17
Summer Sleep 21
24 because I don't know your address
A Thousand Forms of Fear 27
My Beautiful and Incredible Coincidence 33
If the world were to collapse tomorrow, 40
Glass Bird 42
Imperfect and unstable 47
The Curved Sword and Magnolia 53
62 in a dream within a dream
Every time I spoke of sadness incorrectly, I fell along with happiness, so 64
Bye Bye Baby Blue 68
Piece of Dream 73
We are divided within the prism (top) 78
We are divided within the prism (Part 2) 86
Parachute 96
Aftereffects 98
Indian Summer 103
Lost Highway 106
111 holding a broken umbrella in the pouring rain
nosmokingonlyalcohol 120
xan 123
Waltz for X 127
Who owns the knife when cutting the cake? 128
If what you hold in your hand is a scream, 132
Perception 140
deja vu 145
Two People Face Each Other, Two Dreams 150
Reje Drama 156
Depressive episode 163
Record of a Long Vacation 168
Come see me and the sheep 174
Cinephile 175
Almond Tree Guide 187
The Forest of Crying Alone 191
Dance of Dying Alone 198
Dreaming Alone 204
Gravity 205
Other Summer Days 222
Commentary on the work - Park Dong-eok
The Vanishing Point of Language 229
Into the book
Sometimes in the morning
Birds flying by the window are chirping
Sunlight pours down on you as you sleep
I love this feeling
Cleaning up the shell left behind last night
Lock the flat bottle
Wiping up the alcohol that one of us spilled
A bad smell in the sandwich bag
When I pass by your side while you sleep, I walk on tiptoe,
When you rub your sleepy eyes and ask what time it is
Sleep a little more, sleep a little more,
Calling you the sleep you need
--- From "My Little Closed Ward"
When I walk holding hands with that kid
It reminds me of how desperate half of the prayers are.
It makes me think about the mind of a person who puts his two hands together.
Who created this thing called dream?
Is it that wandering in it makes you distant from the world?
The heart
Where does it start
--- From "The Curved Sword and Magnolia"
Hiding sadness
I wanted to know how to start my heart… …
I wanted to suppress myself and speak
Mind, it speaks of the extremes of this very moment.
No
It is said to have been formed by accumulating from the distant past…
I locked eyes with you
I looked quietly into the darkness
I couldn't find myself there
You tie my two feet
So that you can't approach
So that we can't get away
--- From "Holding a Broken Umbrella in the Heavy Rain"
Women love summer because they like summer clothes, but if a man loves winter,
The woman colored the man, and the man wrote about the woman. The man laughing in the snowstorm and the woman loving the tropical night were completed on a blank sheet of paper.
If we hug each other so tightly that we feel like we're going to break, we're afraid the climate will be ruined.
And their camp was coming to an end
When the woman left, the man's dream was a blizzard. In a world entirely black and white, the man wept. There was a person frozen in the mirror.
Birds flying by the window are chirping
Sunlight pours down on you as you sleep
I love this feeling
Cleaning up the shell left behind last night
Lock the flat bottle
Wiping up the alcohol that one of us spilled
A bad smell in the sandwich bag
When I pass by your side while you sleep, I walk on tiptoe,
When you rub your sleepy eyes and ask what time it is
Sleep a little more, sleep a little more,
Calling you the sleep you need
--- From "My Little Closed Ward"
When I walk holding hands with that kid
It reminds me of how desperate half of the prayers are.
It makes me think about the mind of a person who puts his two hands together.
Who created this thing called dream?
Is it that wandering in it makes you distant from the world?
The heart
Where does it start
--- From "The Curved Sword and Magnolia"
Hiding sadness
I wanted to know how to start my heart… …
I wanted to suppress myself and speak
Mind, it speaks of the extremes of this very moment.
No
It is said to have been formed by accumulating from the distant past…
I locked eyes with you
I looked quietly into the darkness
I couldn't find myself there
You tie my two feet
So that you can't approach
So that we can't get away
--- From "Holding a Broken Umbrella in the Heavy Rain"
Women love summer because they like summer clothes, but if a man loves winter,
The woman colored the man, and the man wrote about the woman. The man laughing in the snowstorm and the woman loving the tropical night were completed on a blank sheet of paper.
If we hug each other so tightly that we feel like we're going to break, we're afraid the climate will be ruined.
And their camp was coming to an end
When the woman left, the man's dream was a blizzard. In a world entirely black and white, the man wept. There was a person frozen in the mirror.
--- From "Dreams I Dream Alone"
Publisher's Review
Dream in a bunker in the forest
Don't even hug that body
Something I can't even ignore
If that's what you want
-From "Summer Sleep"
The poet seems to be in a bunker.
The poet has prepared several speakers, and the words they exchange blend together as if surrendering to a dreamlike rhythm.
There is 'you' who keeps walking and eventually falls asleep.
There is 'Ellie' who often talks about her dead friend, and there are 'Yoon' and 'Monde' who are Ellie's friends.
There is a 'won' who writes the letter and a 'dan' who appears to be the recipient of the letter.
They are in a bunker, and the bunker is in the forest, so they are in the forest, but the darkness completely obscures the forest.
In the darkness, they suddenly decide to leave the bunker.
“Split in the prism” and decide to go to the “other side of the world.”
Could it be that the burning forest they saw in their dreams led them outside?
The poet already knows that the outside is other people, and other people are nothing but hell.
And I am tormented by the premonition that I will meet it as a vanishing point.
The childlike narrators who dominate the first half of the collection whisper in turn.
Let's go to the other side of the world.
So tell others to go to hell.
Whether we go or not, we will meet at “one vanishing point.”
That is the content of the dream they had in the bunker, and it is their only dream when they wake up from the dream.
Dreaming of getting out of the forest again
I wanted to keep listening
Your dreamy joke
-From "The Forest Crying Alone"
They seek to build a community of words and minds, not of law and order.
It is possible only when we embrace each other's evil, sorrow, death and even hatred.
The poetic speaker of Yanganda “pretends not to hear and only looks at the burning forest” despite the extreme feelings of wanting to die or to see.
Is it because I have to go there?
Perhaps the ashes of the burning forest are blocking the poet's nose, and the light of the burning forest is blinding his eyes.
What is found in the burning forest is “a sadness that already exists before it reaches me.”
It's a kind of planned sadness.
We plan to fail to understand each other, and we will have no shame in that.
Thus, the forest has been burned down and become a vanishing point, and the poet's speakers go back to sleep, knowing that "the night is completely complete."
My lips tremble as if dancing, unable to reveal the truth that the tragedy up until now may have all been a dream.
As we close our eyes again, will we dream the same dream as yesterday? With the hope that you and I will fully understand each other? Yang An-da, withholding the answer, paints one of the most beautiful dreamscapes in Korean poetry.
Say hello to that dream.
“Should I go to sleep now?”/ “Okay.
"Well then." / "Good night" / "Good night"
[Poet's Note]
In my dream, I walked barefoot through a flower field.
My toes were burning with every step I took, and I couldn't stand it.
And the stench.
When I looked around, all the flower fields were withered, but I wasn't sad.
I still can't believe my hands and feet aren't cold.
Now I just wanted to wake up.
To my friends who became my future and my parachute.
thank you.
We still feel broken and ridiculous.
Don't even hug that body
Something I can't even ignore
If that's what you want
-From "Summer Sleep"
The poet seems to be in a bunker.
The poet has prepared several speakers, and the words they exchange blend together as if surrendering to a dreamlike rhythm.
There is 'you' who keeps walking and eventually falls asleep.
There is 'Ellie' who often talks about her dead friend, and there are 'Yoon' and 'Monde' who are Ellie's friends.
There is a 'won' who writes the letter and a 'dan' who appears to be the recipient of the letter.
They are in a bunker, and the bunker is in the forest, so they are in the forest, but the darkness completely obscures the forest.
In the darkness, they suddenly decide to leave the bunker.
“Split in the prism” and decide to go to the “other side of the world.”
Could it be that the burning forest they saw in their dreams led them outside?
The poet already knows that the outside is other people, and other people are nothing but hell.
And I am tormented by the premonition that I will meet it as a vanishing point.
The childlike narrators who dominate the first half of the collection whisper in turn.
Let's go to the other side of the world.
So tell others to go to hell.
Whether we go or not, we will meet at “one vanishing point.”
That is the content of the dream they had in the bunker, and it is their only dream when they wake up from the dream.
Dreaming of getting out of the forest again
I wanted to keep listening
Your dreamy joke
-From "The Forest Crying Alone"
They seek to build a community of words and minds, not of law and order.
It is possible only when we embrace each other's evil, sorrow, death and even hatred.
The poetic speaker of Yanganda “pretends not to hear and only looks at the burning forest” despite the extreme feelings of wanting to die or to see.
Is it because I have to go there?
Perhaps the ashes of the burning forest are blocking the poet's nose, and the light of the burning forest is blinding his eyes.
What is found in the burning forest is “a sadness that already exists before it reaches me.”
It's a kind of planned sadness.
We plan to fail to understand each other, and we will have no shame in that.
Thus, the forest has been burned down and become a vanishing point, and the poet's speakers go back to sleep, knowing that "the night is completely complete."
My lips tremble as if dancing, unable to reveal the truth that the tragedy up until now may have all been a dream.
As we close our eyes again, will we dream the same dream as yesterday? With the hope that you and I will fully understand each other? Yang An-da, withholding the answer, paints one of the most beautiful dreamscapes in Korean poetry.
Say hello to that dream.
“Should I go to sleep now?”/ “Okay.
"Well then." / "Good night" / "Good night"
[Poet's Note]
In my dream, I walked barefoot through a flower field.
My toes were burning with every step I took, and I couldn't stand it.
And the stench.
When I looked around, all the flower fields were withered, but I wasn't sad.
I still can't believe my hands and feet aren't cold.
Now I just wanted to wake up.
To my friends who became my future and my parachute.
thank you.
We still feel broken and ridiculous.
GOODS SPECIFICS
- Date of issue: May 25, 2020
- Format: Hardcover book binding method guide
- Page count, weight, size: 256 pages | 384g | 132*218*20mm
- ISBN13: 9788937408915
- ISBN10: 8937408910
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