[Book Review] Yi Eoryeong's Last Lesson

I've always enjoyed reading Kim Ji-su's 'Interstellar' column in the Chosun Ilbo. While his writing style is intimate and uses ornate language, his interviews are always insightful and captivating. It was through 'Interstellar' that I first encountered Professor Yi Oryeong's interview. But to my delight, that interview, expanded and detailed, has now been compiled into a book, spanning several days. I eagerly awaited its release.
 
Professor Yi Oryeong, born in 1933, gained fame through his book, 'The Japanese with a Shrinking Orientation,' and his suggestion to feature the 'Hula Hoop Boy' during the 1988 Seoul Olympics. He also served as Minister of Culture in the 1990s. Hearing that such a prominent figure had been diagnosed with cancer filled me with dread. This was especially poignant given that he had already lost his daughter, a pastor, to the same disease. I understand that it was after her passing that he, a former non-believer, found solace in religion and faith.
 
In essence, this book could be considered a discourse entirely focused on death. The subject of 'Yi Oryeong's Last Lecture' is, in a way, death itself. As I approach my forties, a time when I never imagined myself aging, I find myself increasingly confronted with death – through thoughts, observations, and experiences. Amidst this, Professor Yi's profound words pierced my heart like shards of a broken mirror, prompting me to reflect on my past, present, and future.

 
“Writers always lose. I've been knocked out every time. That's why I keep writing. If I'd felt like I'd achieved perfection and was done, I wouldn't have been able to write any further. Richard Bach, who wrote 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull,' supposedly threw his typewriter into the sea after finishing the story of Jonathan's life. That was his way of signifying completion.”
 
As a writer myself, I fully understood the sentiment behind Professor Yi's words. There are those who, knowing they'll never truly achieve perfection, are compelled to express the overflowing words within them because they are always defeated, always unfinished. Like Kim Ji-su, the interviewer, I found myself desperately trying to absorb and internalize the words Professor Yi had poured out, eagerly turning the pages. Why does his most simple utterance resonate with me so profoundly, prompting me to ruminate on it for days?

 
“If your predetermined fate is 7, you have 3 that are your own. That 3 is free will. The act of eating the fruit of knowledge in the perfectly equipped Garden of Eden, even if it's foolish, is an exercise of human free will. Like the prodigal son, who could have lived comfortably at home but chose to leave, endure hardship, and return... even if his destiny was to return home, the prodigal son before his departure and the prodigal son after his return are completely different people. By throwing himself into that experience, he gains true understanding and becomes his true self, whether brilliant or flawed. Do you understand? Humans are beings who must experience countless joys and tragedies using their own free will to find satisfaction.”
 
The vividness, as if I were eavesdropping on a conversation, led me to contemplate death alongside this book. While the phrase 'death is at the heart of life' has become commonplace, I've recently felt a jolt to my heart, realizing how close death truly is, like flipping a page. With the anticipation of more frequent obituaries in the future, I've found this book a valuable opportunity to reflect on how I should approach death and live my life.
 
In any case, Professor Yi Oryeong seems poised to demonstrate a model of how to age well and how to die well. I sincerely hope his remaining days are peaceful and that, eventually, I may face the deaths of those around me, as well as my own, with a similar sense of tranquility. 
 
 
※ This review was written honestly after reading a book provided by the Naver Cafe Culturebloom https://cafe.naver.com/culturebloom/1377302.