The road trip has been a mainstay of American literature since it first appeared in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road more than half-a-century ago. In that time, we have come to regard it as something indigenous to America – a manifestation of the frontier spirit. I’m sure I speak for most when I say that I never thought I’d see the day when a writer from the ‘hermit kingdom’ would turn his hand to what has been – in the main – an American form of expression. That said, Choi In-Ho is an anomaly among a writing establishment that has preferred to turn its gaze inward to the dominant themes of Korean history.

But, like it or not, foreign adoption, emigration, and political and personal exile are also themes that are central to the Korean postwar experience. Deep Blue Night hones in on the last of these as it follows the adventures of two men bound by their need to escape the oppressive conservatism of Korean society. Like most exiles, their notions of America prove deeply misguided. Contrary to the liberation they’d expected, their American experience binds them ever more tightly to their homeland. A California road trip offers one last chance to find what they’ve been seeking, but sadly for them, the freedom of the open road serves only to throw into sharper relief the various forms of confinement from which they suffer.

The story culminates in a harrowing late-night journey down the Pacific Coast Highway. The landscape is recounted in vivid detail, and we come to realize that what’s being described is not just a physical voyage but an emotional and spiritual one too. When the car crashes at the edge of a precipice, the author’s point is clear. Pursuing the journey any further would come at the risk of a complete breakdown for the characters. In the final scene, both exiles pledge to return to face the forces that had inspired their flight.

The other tale contained in Deep Blue Night offers readers welcome respite from the angst conjured by the title story. On the surface, The Poplar Tree is a story about a man who trains himself to leap over a towering poplar planted in his garden. However, a perceptive reader will discern that this is actually a tale about how dreams and ambitions crushed by tragedy can be resuscitated by time, patience and effort. The message of The Poplar Tree serves as an interesting counterpoint to Deep Blue Night, which – in the end – advises submission to one’s conquerors.

Over the years, Choi In-Ho has solidified his reputation as the infant terrible of the Korean literary scene. Self-declared ‘autobiographical’ tales, such as Deep Blue Night, which feature liberal use of recreational drugs have no doubt placed him under an uncomfortable spotlight. The good news for us is that the pressure cooker of Korean society has unwittingly assisted in the creation of gripping stories such as those contained in this book.

            Elton LaClare