Reading short stories is quite like midnight snacking. Irresistible. Instant gratification guaranteed. Sure, there’s some guilt in giving in to the temptation at first, but that is easily overpowered by the joy in your soul after the secret expedition to the kitchen.

Bora Chung’s latest offering, Your Utopia, will have short story fans asking for more. All eight stories, translated from the original Korean by Anton Hur, shine in their thematic richness, swift plot progression, effortless character development, and oddball endings. You are hooked from the very first page.

Extraordinary ordeals

The first story in the collection – “The Center for Immortality Research” – is a winner and sets the standard for what is to follow. Preparations for the 98th anniversary are in full swing at the Center for Immortality Research when an unexpected intrusion from a stalker takes centre stage. What unfolds in a bid to keep the intruder at bay is that skeletons tumble out of the closet of a research lab that pretends to be a major pharmaceutical company when in reality, it is just “attached to one”.

The breakneck pace with which themes of corporate hierarchy, moral bankruptcy, political muscle power, twisted personal relationships, bonds between absolute strangers, and so on make an appearance and dash out through the nearest exit leaves the reader feeling dizzy, who, by the way, is already trying to juggle overlapping emotions of absurdity and deep rumination.

As a concept, the narrator informs us, immortality can be often confused with “long youth” and “forever life” – but do they mean the same thing? Can forever be a possible reality given a human being’s finite existence on earth? Is there a way to get hold of the “immortality elixir” and live without a trace of worry about losing a loved one or worse, your own self – be it in an accident or naturally? Chung’s ingenuity is in throwing existential questions at you against the backdrop of an anniversary celebration, which is not the usual “big” anniversaries. It is the 98th one – what does one even call that? By the time you reach the end of the story, the author’s intent seems to be less foggy. Immortality, in fact, is not at the centre of it all. We’ve been looking the other way.

“A Very Ordinary Marriage” is a story which is anything but that. The lines drawn between the real, the unreal, and the surreal become fuzzy. For instance, in this story, a “meet-cute” at a dentist’s clinic turns sinister and precarious; and, the most astonishing part is, that the bizarre presents itself on the back of a logical explanation. You’re rendered tongue-tied or might find yourself questioning your sanity. But never once do you dare doubt the rationale being offered and that’s exactly what seals Chung’s mastery over the short-story format in speculative fiction writing, which relies on elements of folklore, horror, mythology, dark humour, the paranormal, and sci-fi.

The implausible is perfectly normal and expected. And Hur’s exquisite translation does complete justice to the author’s intent. The seamless flair, candour, and alacrity with which the translator has complemented the author’s vitality and unique creativity in breathing life into every tale, each distinct from the other, is praiseworthy.

Utopia, or is it?

“Seed” is not a story as much as it is an urgent plea toward protecting and preserving our ecology and natural resources. It is a vehement rejection of anthropocentrism and a rebellious appeal for a symbiotic relationship between nature and humankind that form the backbone of this fable, which serves as a wake-up call and a warning for humanity to check on their reckless need and greed to exploit nature.

“To Meet Her” is perhaps the most hard-hitting story in the collection. Staff Sergeant Byun Hui-su, the first trans soldier who enlisted in the Republic of Korea military in 2017, was dismissed after her gender reassignment surgery in Thailand in 2019. While Byun, who was suffering from gender dysphoria, wished to serve as a female soldier, she was discriminated against and ridiculed by society, which is dominated by the dictates of able-bodied men. Chung’s story is severely critical of Korean society’s conservative approach to homosexuality and by extension the inclusion of transgender soldiers in the military. Several human rights groups and activists have been fighting for the enactment of the Anti-Discrimination Bill which continues to be a far-fetched reality in the country. When Byun was found dead in early 2021, in addition to outpourings of grief, serious discussions and concerned voices on the rights of the LGBTQ+ resurfaced with vehemence.

“To Meet Her” not only shows a way to keep a fight, which has been going on for over 14 years now, alive lest it gets erased from human memory, but it is also an act of protest against those who are complicit in maintaining a status-quo that serves the interests of a male-heavy establishment. Fact and fiction blend exquisitely as the emotions of resentment, dejection, despair, conviction, and resilience emerge with an inimitable force.

Every story in this collection is a never-before experience. A visual treat in execution and tight in conceptualisation, Your Utopia is like that dream you wake up from as an out-of-body experience. You want to tell the world all about it with its finer details but there is a minor hiccup – you’ve forgotten the dream. You try hard to remember but you can’t. Only the breathlessness lingers.

Your Utopia, Bora Chung, translated from the Korean by Anton Hur, Hachette.