226 Santa Claus And Translation 1 (1/2)
Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
”Please tell me a way to get a hold of Mr. Woo,” Nam Kyung read the email he had received out loud. It had been sent by a person by the name of Taylor Sanders, the translator who had translated the sensational 'Language of G.o.d' into English. ”I'd like to meet with Yun Woo.” The reason the editor was taken aback was because that same translator had previously rejected the opportunity to meet with Yun Woo in person. It was a well-known anecdote in the publis.h.i.+ng industry.
”So, even the almighty Sanders is struggling with 'Sublimation,' huh?”
Sanders was also the translator in charge of translating 'Sublimation,' which was scheduled to be published in the near future. Although having translated an entire epic novel series without even an ounce of help from the author, Sanders was struggling to make progress with 'Sublimation.'
According to the translator's own words, he was not confident in his work in translating 'Sublimation,' and Nam Kyung was able to relate to the situation Sanders had found himself in. They were both in the position of having to work with Yun Woo's sentences directly. The young author's sentences were like beams of light that inevitably cast shadows over those standing behind them.
”Well, better talk to Mr. Woo first before I write back to him.”
The editor rose from his seat and went out to the terrace. Decorated with man-made flowerpots, there were benches available on the terrace. Leaning against the silver rail, Nam Kyung dialed the number, chuckling as he was reminded of the sheer number of people who were desperate to know it.
”Mr. Woo! This is Nam Kyung.”
”h.e.l.lo, what can I do for you?”
A dry voice contradictory to his dazzling fame sounded off from the receiver, and after clearing his throat, Nam Kyung got to the point. The young author had hardly changed from the time Nam Kyung had first met him.
”I'm sure you know who Taylor Sanders is, right?”
”Yes, he translated my novels, didn't he?” the young author said with a crisp voice, and Nam Kyung fixed his eyes on the pointed tower of a church in the distance.
”Precisely. So, it turns out he wishes to have a word with you.”
”A word?”
”Yes, regarding his most recent project, 'Sublimation.' It appears that there's something about the ending of the novel that's bothering him.” Nam Kyung said, adding the latter half of the sentence while the young author remained silent.
”I hope you understand, Mr. Woo. The ending to that novel, in particular, is quite the punishment for those who have to work with those sentences directly.”
At that, instead of an answer, a dry chuckle came from the receiver of the editor's phone. 'I mean, if THE Taylor Sanders is struggling with it, that says it all,' Nam Kyung thought to himself and asked the author for his decision.
”What would you like to do?”
”Mr. Sanders is in the US, right?”
”Yes, but he told me that he's more than willing to fly to Korea as long as you're willing to meet with him in person.”
Sanders had stated that he was willing to visit Korea at any given moment in his email to the editor.
”Well, if I can be of any help, then of course, I'll meet with him,” the young author answered briefly. Nam Kyung thought of Sanders waiting anxiously for his reply. Those who knew nothing about Yun Woo would have no idea of how unfazed Yun Woo was at all times, distracted by the colorful images surrounding the author.
”h.e.l.lo?”
”Yes, hi. Then I'll go ahead and arrange a meeting with him.”
With that, Nam Kyung wrote back to Sanders without a delay.
The day after the translator's arrival, Nam Kyung was on his way to pick up Yun Woo. The weather couldn't be any better.
”You put your seatbelt on?”
”Yes.”
Noticing Yun Woo slowly looking around his car, Nam Kyung drove gently and headed to a famous Korean restaurant in Gangnam that provided private rooms for their guests. Closed-off s.p.a.ce was a must when meeting someone with Yun Woo, and Nam Kyung said while driving, ”From what I hear, Mr. Sanders has been getting a lot of attention.”
”Yes, I saw the articles.”
When an author won an award, a series of in-depth a.n.a.lysis of the results followed, and among them, were opinions on the translators. Having thoroughly translated Yun Woo's writing into English, Sanders started growing in popularity in Korea after the young writer won the Nebula Award.
”It seems like he's been getting overwhelmed with questions too, questions of whether he's ever met you.”
”But we never have.”
”That's not an answer a journalist would settle for, unfortunately. Well, I guess my position is not all that different from Sanders'.”
On top of the journalists, even people around Nam Kyung flooded him with questions since they knew he was Yun Woo's editor:
”Show me a picture of him, will ya?”
”Can you let me talk to him on the phone, just this once?”
”What's Yun Woo been up to these days?”
The list went on.
”So how do you go about handling that predicament?”
”I tell them that I'm not looking to get buried alive in the industry for leaking information about Yun Woo.”
”Buried alive, huh.”
”Oh, it's far from being an overstatement. Trust me. Even the foreign press would start raving about it. 'According to Nam Kyung Park, Yun Woo's editor-in-charge, the winner of the Nebula Award is such and such.'”
Now that Yun Woo had won the award, any mention of him would spread to an international scale, and Nam Kyung was fully aware of that.
”That's what I should've said while I could, anyway. When I didn't have to worry about the aftermath as much.”
”The higher you go, the scarier the fall gets.”
The higher one climbed, the more terrifying the height became. Made curious by Juho's calm and unfazed remark, he wondered, 'Then, what does that mean for him? He's already so high up when he hasn't even graduated high school. Treated as a national author, the youngest, first Asian and Korean winner of a literary award with half a century of history, and now, aiming for the double crown. How terrifying of a height would that be? I can only imagine.'
”Yawn,” the young author yawned quietly.
”Did you not sleep well last night?”
”I was writing. I've been working on a piece to have exhibited at my school.”