Q. How have you been since the publication of “Yong, Maeng Ho?”
I’ve spent time giving lectures and meeting readers. After finishing “Flower Granny,” I thought I should write about the Vietnam War, but the book came out more than 10 years after the determination. I’m celebrating what I’ve done without giving up until the end (laughs). 

Q. What made you decide to write the story of the Vietnam war after the publication of “Flower Granny?” 
While working on “Flower Granny,” I got to know the activities of women in Japan and around the world who sympathized with the sufferings of the Japanese Military “Comfort Women.” In particular, reading materials from the Women’s International War Crimes Tribunal held in Tokyo in 2000 made me reflect on the wrongdoings of the Korean Military during the Vietnam War. I thought I should do something as a citizen of the assault nation. What I thought at that time was that the true completion of “Flower Granny” could be through the story of the Korean Military that entered the Vietnam War.

Q. Between the publication of “Flower Granny” and “Yong, Maeng Ho,” you published “A Wooden Stamp” and “Sixteen.” What motivated you to write the stories? 
“A Wooden Stamp” has an enforcer and perpetrator (of power) as the main character for the first time. Although he is the perpetrator, he is a person who regrets and looks back to some extent on his misconduct. I wanted to deliver the message that everyone has a will to save people. “Sixteen” has a martial law army as the protagonist but symbolizes him as a “firearm.” “Sixteen” remains in the square to save the lives in the last part of the story. Through the publication process of the two books, I had time to contemplate the assailant and was able to create the character of “Yong, Maeng Ho” though the two characters are different in nature. 

Q. Then, is the representation of “Yong, Maeng Ho” as a tiger associated with that context? 
In “Flower Granny,” I thought of the accurate description of the facts as important because I depicted the main character based on the testimony of a real person. That way elicits some advantages in that characters look more realistic like a documentary film, but on the other hand, there was a limit to exercising the imagination. That’s why I employed a gun as the leading character instead of a real person. The same goes for “Yong, Maeng Ho.” When the protagonist is set as a veteran, there are many practical restrictions to the background and situation. However, setting it as a tiger broadens the scope of a narrative. If the description of having an extra breast or ear had been applied to humans, it would have been awkward. 

Q. “Yong, Maeng Ho” is both perpetrator and victim at the same time. When setting such a character as the protagonist, is there a point that you consider important?
Yong, Maeng Ho faces up to his past as the pain in his body. He actively carried out orders in the structure of violence, and sinful karma is embodied in his body. Just because he’s the main character does not necessarily mean he’s a “good veteran.” Such a representation results in standing up for perpetrators like “the assaulter is also a victim.” Only when the perpetrator’s act of abuse and cruelty is revealed as facts can the trauma experienced by the perpetrator be felt by readers as it is. That’s why Yong, Maeng Ho had to be set as the active accomplice in the civilian massacre and sexual violence. That was the most difficult part.

The notion of adding body part to the victim came to my mind when I saw the photo of Phong Nhi and Phong Nhat massacre^[1] victims. The US Army took documentary photos in the place where the Korean Military retreated after the Vietnamese civilian massacre. Among them, there is a photo captioned as “a dying woman with her breasts cut out.” I couldn’t depict the horrific suffering of her chest being cut off as it was, so I represented it as getting a new breast. I wanted to express how brutal war is.

Q. I heard you put a lot of thoughts into the depiction of sexual assault. 
At first, I rendered the scene of sexual violence abstractly. In the photo of the Phong Nhi and Phong Nhat massacre, the victim is lying in the rice field. So, I depicted the scene as collapsed rice plants, dropped nón lá^[2], and scattered slippers in the field. But the feedback on that setting told a different story. Many people didn’t realize the setting was intended to show sexual violence. The meaning was not transmitted intuitively. So, while contemplating the way of setting the situation, I asked for advice from Vietnamese activists Lê Hoàng Ngong and Ku Su-jeong, executive director of the Korea-Vietnam Peace Foundation. I also read the article in the Hankyoreh newspaper that was introduced (“A certain memory of a survivor,” April 24, 2015). The article contains the testimonies of victims of sexual violence during the Vietnam War. What is surprising is that there are many victims sexually assaulted in the military camps at the time. The testimony of a victim, Palmtian, goes like this:

The victim was arrested on the Quy Nhơn Goboy Plains and taken away to the Korean Military base in Tuipeuc Phước Sơn. At the base, trenches were built side by side, and in each trench was a Korean soldier. The women who had been dragged were put into the trenches (Source: The Hankyoreh, “A certain memory of a survivor,” April 24, 2015).

The moment I read these sentences, I was shocked that the content was the same as the story of “Flower Granny.” I realized the structure of the damage women suffer in war situations is repeated in an identical manner. I considered depicting the military base as the background of the story, but in the Vietnam war, it was reportedly more common that soldiers who went out to search the villages took away women to the forest or the houses adjoining in the back and raped them there. So I referred to the testimony of Letihieu from the article. She testified the Korean soldier took off her clothes to cover her face after the rape, the image of which was portrayed intensely. I represented the situation at the time as black clothes cut into chunks.

Q. The theme of “Yong, Maeng Ho” is profound and weighty, but the paintings and colors are charming. Could you tell me the impact this approach has on the book? 
In the beginning of working on “Flower Granny,” I used to do sketches raising fears and dread, but I couldn’t show them to Sim Dalyeon. At that moment, I thought about the objective of making the book once again. I hoped she would like this book when seeing it and she felt the life she had trodden was precious. That’s why I replaced the pictures with flowers, taking “Beauty” into consideration. Rather than depicting violence directly, I chose the way of using metaphors, analogies, and symbols. It’s a painful story, but through “Flower Granny,” I learned the way to empathize and be together with people with an open mind. Since then, that approach has naturally imbued my work, in particular, in “Yong, Maeng Ho,” I wanted to contrast the beautiful nature of Vietnam with the horrific massacres committed there by humans.

Q. Are you considering meeting Vietnamese readers?
If the victims of Phong Nhi and Phong Nhat civilian massacre come to Korea, I want to show them this book and listen to what they say. I wonder what the Vietnamese, as well as Vietnamese children attending Korean schools will think of this book. I hope it can be translated and published in Vietnam. I heard some of the veterans admit to their crimes. I’d like to hear their stories. I think they should have the opportunity to admit their mistakes and talk about them. 

Q. As it is difficult to embrace the perpetrators, I think it is necessary to have various social discussions. 
There is an article written by Sim Ajeong, an independent research activist, about the “perception of aggressors.” “The key to “perception of aggressors” is to struggle to admit, even belatedly, the wrongdoings that they committed unknowingly or that they committed to make the place in which they stand, and accept that the foundation of the world upon which they’re standing now-and-here would shake and collapse by doing so.”^[3] Even if our society can’t forgive Yong, Maeng Ho, I don’t want him to be pushed out of the community. If society stigmatizes him as a perpetrator and drives him out, he will hide in the solid structure that created the violence, and eventually, it will be difficult to admit his mistake. I think civil society should be able to allow perpetrators an opportunity to admit and repent their misconduct. If you look at the last part of “Yong, Maeng Ho,” citizens run for fallen Yong, Maeng Ho, and call 911. Through that scene, I desired to say that now is the time for civil society to step forward and discuss the issue. 

Q. Even if “Yong, Maeng Ho” doesn’t directly portray violence, it shows what kind of harm he committed and what kind of suffering he is experiencing as a result. What do you think is the appropriate method to represent violence?
When I see a manifestation of violence, I’m concerned that someone might imitate it. I couldn’t describe violence as it was because I was afraid that readers would enjoy the sadistic violent scene or think they would like to try it themselves. Furthermore, when it comes to picture books for children, the importance of a careful approach cannot be overemphasized. Then how to talk about violence without depicting it is always a challenging matter. So I use symbols and metaphors to convey stories. I’m trying to show the structure of how violence works along with the phenomenon.

Q. You have been working on picture books covering “violence” in modern Korean history, including “Flower Granny,” “A Wooden Stamp,” “Sixteen,” and “Yong, Maeng Ho.” I wonder what you want to fundamentally covey a message through this, and what “peace” is in your perspective.
I am interested in the structure of violence. It is not easily eradicated because it has been firmly maintained for a long time. But the victim’s testimony can crack the structure of violence. The testimonies of the victims of the Japanese Military “Comfort Women” allow us to encounter the issue of women’s human rights in the context of wartime sexual violence. Even children, who are not yet entangled in any interests, have the power to fracture the solid structure of violence. In order to move forward to a peaceful society, where everyone can enjoy their rights and respect each other, we must gradually break down the structural violence.

Q. What do you want prospective readers to think after reading “Yong, Maeng Ho?”
He suffers the result of the very aggression he committed through his bodily changes. I hope the readers can relate to that. We all can fall into the structure of aggressors without our knowledge. I want people to constantly reflect on themselves and not lose self-discipline in the daily events they face.

Yong, Maeng Ho is standing in the position of the perpetrator bearing the damage. Sexual violence perpetrated by the Korean Military is a universal issue of “war and women” and needs to be discussed along with the Japanese Military “Comfort Women.” We should also sympathize with the pain of Vietnamese victims and inquire about our faults. Only then will we be able to talk about peace in Asia.

Q. What else would you like to share through picture books in the future?
After finishing “Yong, Maeng Ho” I decided to deliver one more painful story and then make something fun. That painful story is about the Sewol ferry. I planned out the composition in a broad framework, but I stopped for a while because I wasn’t confident enough to read all the detailed testimonies. As I was immersed in the victim’s pain while painting, my body hurt a lot working on “Flower Granny,” and “Yong, Maeng Ho.” So I think I should take a little break. I’ve been dealing with the theme for almost 15 years since “Flower Granny.” It’s time to make a change. I want to have time to rest, play, and feel lighter. Drawing nature in “Yong, Maeng Ho” was very comforting. I desire to produce a work that sings about nature and life in the future. 

Q. I think painting is another “language” to the artist. What does painting mean to you?
When I sit in front of a whiteboard and draw a line, emotions begin to arise. I get sucked into a certain situation without realizing it and my emotions get lifted. They’re drawn on the drawing screen with lines, colors, margins, and coincidences I don’t intend. And I search for harmony and beauty here and there on one screen. The process is demanding and tough, but it is also fun. It’s something more fun than anything else and I want to do for the rest of my life.