This intriguingly titled story has been brought to English speaking audiences by the Korea Literature Translation Institute – a venerable organization whose stated aim is ‘to bring Korean creative writing into the mainstream of world literature’. The goal is a lofty one, especially for a small domestic publisher without the backing of a major international imprint, but whether or not stories such as A Dwarf Launches a Little Ball ever find a place in the display window of Borders or Barnes & Noble, I shall be forever grateful for the efforts of the Korea Literature Translation Institute for bringing a little diversity to bookshelves of expats like myself – those with no interest in curling up with The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People or How to Win Friends and Influence People.

Before delving into the story, I’d like to draw attention to what I feel are some of the main selling points of The Portable Library of Korean Literature’s Short Fiction series (from which A Dwarf Launches a Little Ball comes). The first is availability. I had little trouble finding a reasonable selection of books from the series without having to resort to online shopping or asking the bookstore to make a special order. The second is size. The volumes usually contain one or two stories and are nearly always less than 100 pages in length. This makes them ideal for alleviating the boredom of a trip on the bus or subway. The third advantage is price. The books sell for just 5000 won apiece, which makes it slightly less agonizing when you inadvertently leave them behind on the seat of said bus or subway.

 But back to the story… A Dwarf Launches a Little Ball is the tale of a vertically challenged construction worker by the name of Kim Bu-Ri who inhabits a ramshackle house in Happiness District, Paradise County. Although manual labor proves hard for someone of such small stature, Bu-Ri endures with the help of his wife and three children. However, one day the family’s world is turned upside-down by an announcement for the Precinct Office that Happiness District has been scheduled for demolition. As always, the loss of the residents’ homes is rationalized with euphemisms such as ‘progress’ and ‘redevelopment’. In reality, land is being stripped away from the poor and placed in the hands of wealthy real-estate developers.

This essential injustice is what lies at the heart of the story. For months the residents of Happiness District trudge back and forth to the Precinct Office to discover the latest price being offered to those who surrender their titles and settle elsewhere. It is during this time that Bu-Ri loses his job and begins to seek solace in alcohol. Although he had always insisted that his children study, eventually it becomes necessary for all three to quit school and join the workforce. A considerable portion of the story is reserved for descriptions of the drudgery of factory work. Much like the land developers who have swarmed on Happiness District, the factory owners are old hands at using desperation to their own ends.

Perhaps the saddest part of the story is the bid made by Bu-Ri’s daughter to save the family home. Desperate to be of some assistance to her father, she departs from Happiness District in the car of the man who has purchased the title to their land. During the ensuing journey, an agreement is stuck that reduces her to a state of slavery. However, as the man’s concubine, she manages to access his safe and steal back the deed to the family property. She returns to Happiness District, but her triumph is spoiled by the fact that the house has been razed and her father has passed away. A poignant tale laced with insight into an important chapter in Korea’s social history.

Elton LaClare