It's so exciting and refreshing reading new fiction which fully represents the complexities of modern gay life. There are romantic moments in “Love in the Big City”, but it certainly doesn't romanticize queer experience. Nor does it wallow in oppression or resentment. Instead it faithfully represents the point of view of a young Korean gay man named Young as he navigates family, friendship and various relationships (some are mere hookups while others are knotty emotional entanglements.) He struggles to complete his education and hold a stable job. Many nights are spent drinking, clubbing or chasing tricks on gay hookup apps. On his first night's leave from compulsory military service “the only three things floating around in my brain were iced Americano, Kylie Minogue, and sex.” He's overweight and aware of where he falls in the pecking order of a cruising culture that classifies men based on superficial physical attributes. His contemporaries have developed more stable jobs and relationships, but he's entirely unapologetic about following his desires and instincts even if it leads to his own undoing. The result is a riveting account of the pleasures and pitfalls of intimacy. 

The structure of this novel is satisfying in how it's divided into four parts where each begins with a particular moment in time. This thrusts the reader into a pressing dilemma Young faces. Then the story tunnels back to describe how Young got to this moment and what results from it. I admire how this draws the reader into his particular experience since it often feels like he just falls into situations, but we gradually see how he comes to particular points in his life based on his personality and the circumstances that he lives under. There's also an unflinchingly honest quality to his account which veers from defiant to self-deprecating. In fact, at times he verges on the maudlin in how he feels “life had always been eager to fail my expectations, no matter how low I set them.” It's a tone of writing which feels like a mixture of Jean Rhys and Brontez Purnell – two very different authors but their prose equally expresses a relentless commitment to romantic/sexual pursuits despite feeling it will inevitably end in heartbreak/emptiness. At one point Park observes: “is love truly beautiful? To me, love is a thing you can't stop when you're caught up in it, a brief moment you can escape from only after it turns into the most hideous thing imaginable when you distance yourself from it.” The way he captures experiences fuelled by this bittersweet belief is paradoxically life affirming.

Of course, there were parts of this novel that made me want to bitch slap the narrator. He insistently tries to maintain a relationship with an ideologically-driven man suffering from internalized homophobia who can't love him back. But he also treats his most consistent relationship with a sweetly-devoted responsible man too frivolously and actively pushes him away. All the while Young is fully aware he's making bad choices and acknowledges “my whole life was basically a series of not-clever moves”. It's infuriating behaviour but his character is written in a way which made me entirely sympathise with him and care about his welfare. So it's especially alarming when he doesn't use protection during one sexual encounter and contracts HIV – which is something he can barely openly acknowledge and calls his Kylie, but it’s not something which defeats him. However, he can't avoid the practical difficulties it causes in getting the right medication, having sexual encounters and passing medical exams for certain jobs he tries to get. It's arresting how the story deals with this issue and other long-lasting consequences of his affairs.

I found it touching reading in the translator's note how strongly Anton Hur identified with Park's writing as a Korean gay man. Though there were some specific geographic and linguistic references which I had no knowledge of, I certainly appreciated getting a brief insight into Korean gay life. There were also so many points of reference concerning gay popular culture and a homosexual mentality that I strongly identified with and recognized. It reminded me of reading the nonfiction book “Gay Bar” where drinking holes in different regions and countries are described as having a unique character but all exert the same feeling of being a gay-specific space. Similarly, entering Young's perspective seeking pleasure and companionship while struggling with issues to do with marginalization and poor self-esteem will certainly ring true for any gay man in the world today.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
CategoriesSang Young Park