The world is currently paying attention to Korea's 'fatigue'. Behind the neon signs of glamorous K-pop and the dynamic narratives of K-dramas, there is a quietly yet massively bubbling affect, namely 'Burnout'. When the British 『Economist』 reported, "Turn down the volume of K-pop and pay attention to K-healing," they were not merely reporting on the bestseller trends in Korea. They witnessed the collective lethargy that Korean society, at the forefront of modern capitalism, is experiencing and the strange literary responses that are emerging from it.
While previous 'K-healing' novels have recommended a 'pause' to readers through warm comfort and modest solidarity set in convenience stores, bookstores, and laundromats, Jeon Yejin and Kim Yuna shift the location of that pause to 'the underground' and 'the inner abyss'. Their world is not simple comfort. It is a desperate excavation for survival and an archaeological task of gathering the remnants of truth on the ruins of broken trust. Focusing on Jeon Yejin's novel 『The Cave Shelterers』 and Kim Yuna's collection of stories 『Truth As Much As One Can Believe』, it explores how the pathological phenomenon of 'fatigue' in Korean society has been transformed into literary assets and why these texts resonate inevitably with global readers.
To understand modern Korean literature, the lens of 'The Burnout Society', diagnosed by the German philosopher Byung-Chul Han, is essential. The 21st century has moved past an era of discipline and prohibition to a performance society dominated by positivity, where "Can" prevails. Here, individuals are not exploited by others but become both perpetrators and victims who exploit themselves. The characters in Jeon Yejin and Kim Yuna's novels are fugitives who have escaped from this prison of 'can'. They declare, "I want to lie down and not hear anything," cutting social connections and isolating themselves. This is not defeat but the most radical and passive resistance to reclaim what Han calls "reflective interruption". Western readers see their own futures or present in the isolation and fatigue experienced by characters in Korean literature. The fact that major publishers like Penguin Random House are sending love calls to Korean literature is based not on mere exoticism but on a shared contemporary suffering.
Jeon Yejin, who debuted in the 2019 Korean Daily New Year Literary Contest, demonstrates a unique ability to 'leap the wretchedness of reality into the grammar of fantasy'. From her debut work, she sharply captures the crisis of self-employment and the nowhere to go of the younger generation, employing a style that does not over-consume emotions while wielding a chilling humour that pierces the reader's gut. For Jeon Yejin, fantasy is not an escape but a magnifying glass that shows reality more clearly. Her first full-length novel 『The Cave Shelterers』 begins with the young man 'Seonwoo' who is trapped in burnout seeking out the 'Gorani Convenience Store' deep in the mountains.
The 'Gorani' that appears in the title and background is a symbolic presence in Korean society. Although it is an endangered species, it is so common in Korea that it is designated as a harmful species and is known as a symbol of roadkill. Jeon Yejin prominently features this 'Gorani' to depict the self-portrait of the younger generation, who are destined to die on the road without protection. The 'Gorani Convenience Store' that Seonwoo visits is a gathering place for the surplus who have bounced off the highway of society. The guests of the 'Cave Hotel' underground must pay for their beds but are instead given headlamps and field shovels to dig their own rooms.
The Cave Hotel is a place where wounded individuals, such as alcoholics and failed entrepreneurs, gather to form a 'loose solidarity' without interfering with each other. Through this, Jeon Yejin questions the essence of relationships that modern people crave. We desire complete isolation while simultaneously hoping for someone to be by our side. The last line, "Let’s at least keep in touch," shows the impossibility of complete disconnection and what the minimum buoy that the wounded can offer each other is.
If Jeon Yejin dissects society through space, Kim Yuna examines the subtle cracks within the human psyche through a microscope. Kim Yuna's first collection of stories 『Truth As Much As One Can Believe』, which debuted in 2020, paradoxically represents the uncertainty of modern society from its title. We live in an era where we selectively accept even the truth only as much as we can 'believe'. The characters in Kim Yuna's stories are not villains. They are ordinary citizens who, as life becomes burdensome, gradually deceive themselves to endure. The author calmly captures the moment when the small lies the characters have built up collapse, revealing the 'bare face of truth'.
If recent Korean novels that have succeeded in the global market provide 'safe spaces' and 'easy solutions' through 'Cozy Healing', the works of Jeon Yejin and Kim Yuna are 'Dark Healing' or 'Realism Burnout Literature'.
Difference in Space: Instead of sunny bookstores, the background is set in damp, dark underground caves or collapsed worlds.
Method of Resolution: Instead of magical healing, it shows the process of facing pain head-on and enduring silently.
Reader Experience: Rather than immediate comfort, it leaves a long aftertaste and reflection after closing the book.
The Anglophone publishing world has already sensed the potential of this 'dark' Korean literature. Jane Lawson, an editor at Penguin Random House, mentioned, "Korean novels have suddenly become a massive trend." The novels of Jeon Yejin and Kim Yuna are powerful content targeting a global readership that is dissatisfied with existing healing novels and seeks deeper literary achievements and critical social perspectives. 'K-burnout' has now become a universal human condition, and the solutions offered by Korean writers provide a valid philosophical guide for readers worldwide.
Jeon Yejin's 『The Cave Shelterers』 and Kim Yuna's 『Truth As Much As One Can Believe』 ask, "Where are you running to now?" and "Is the face you meet at the end of that escape true?" These two authors are a sign of the new maturity that Korean literature has reached. They do not hastily sing of hope. Instead, they thoroughly scour the depths of despair and offer small pebbles of comfort that can only be picked up from that bottom.
Jeon Yejin gives the courage to sell 'one's own cave'. That cave is not a disconnection from the world but a minimal defense line to protect oneself.
Kim Yuna gives the strength to endure 'imperfect truths'. Even if it is not perfect, even if it is a bit cowardly, it is the relief that comes from acknowledging that it is human.
For modern people precariously running on the road like Gorani, their novels will serve as a 'shoulder' and 'underground bunker' where one can pause and catch their breath. Now, Korean literature is going underground. To draw up the most universal light from the deepest place.
