< Chapter 53: Side: Working Holiday >As he stepped out of the White Magic Tower, it began to rain.
Unlike the imperial capital, where rain was a rare occurrence, the eastern part of the empire, where the White Magic Tower was built, experienced rain for about half the week. It took about half a day by a magi-engineering train to reach the capital from here.
Maybe because it was close to the Magic Tower, there were a few people who seemed to have learned magic. They were the ones the raindrops ‘avoided’. These people, walking without getting wet despite the rain, were living proofs of the mystery that existed in this world.
Those people could probably read a book outside on a rainy day without the paper getting wet. However, they might end up with soaked pants and wet bottoms while sitting in a suitable spot reading. It struck him as a rather comical mystery.
As he stood there blankly, watching the rainy world, the master of the White Magic Tower approached and spoke to him.
“Ah, it’s raining. Would you like to travel to the capital via the teleport gate? I can inform the Blue Magic Tower.”
“Um, no… I planned to spend the whole day reading a book on the train today.”
Although he wasn’t particularly fond of traveling, he quite enjoyed the long travel time between destinations. As long as he could endure a bit of motion sickness, it was an excellent time to read.
Carrying a thick book—something like *Les Misérables*—he would board the train. He loved the landscapes described in the book in his hands more than the complicated scenery outside the train window.
But when he saw the mysterious and comical scenery around the rainy Magic Tower and the everyday life in this world with orbital elevators, magic, and alchemy, he couldn’t help but think, for a moment, that he had walked into a scene from the literature of Earth.
Not because this world was so surreal, as one might expect from a dark fantasy world, but because it resembled his previous world so much. The process that the people of this world had gone through and the ideals they pursued were mixed in with those of Earth.
“This place reminds me a lot of my hometown.”
“Hmm? Weren’t you from the capital, Author Herodotus?”
“I am from the capital.”
“This area feels quite exotic compared to the capital, given that many people here are from the Harren Kingdom… Well, I suppose places where people live are all somewhat similar.”
“Indeed, they are.”
Come to think of it, he had promised something to the Lazy King of the Harren Kingdom. What was it again? To write a novel that could overthrow him? That seemed quite irresponsible for a monarch of an absolute monarchy.
“Now that I think about it, it’s about time I studied the literature of the Harren Kingdom…”
And he too was no less irresponsible than others.
He decided to head to the Harren Kingdom.
* * *
After passing through the long tunnel at the border, it was a snowy country.
This was the first sentence of the Japanese writer Yasunari Kawabata’s novel, Snow Country.
Here, the character for ‘国 (country)’ refers not to a nation but to a Japanese administrative district called ‘kuni’.
In Korea, the word ‘border’ usually means the boundary between countries, so in translation, it is sometimes paraphrased as ‘contact zone’ or ‘boundary’. The term ‘snow country’ is also often paraphrased as ‘land of snow’. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Nʘvᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.
However, I liked this translation the best, which preserved the original text.
Isn’t it a privilege of the Korean language, with its sentence structure similar to Japanese, to comfortably appreciate Japanese literature without paraphrasing?
So, continuing this sentence:
“The bottom of the night turned white….”
As I emerged from the long tunnel crossing the mountain range between the ‘Empire’ and the ‘Harren Kingdom,’ the rain that had been falling from the sky had already turned into white snow.
I had arrived in the land of snow.
After waiting again for quite some time until the train reached the station, I got off at the busiest station.
A different language from the Empire could be heard here. The common language used in the Empire was also heard quite a bit.
An old man selling goods on the mat in front of the station was soliciting customers in the common language. Although there were no grammatical errors, his tone was a bit awkward.
“Hey there, are you from the Empire? I have good bracelets that symbolize the Harren Kingdom. Cheap. Lots of sales.”
I had already learned most of the languages of this world during my childhood.
I answered in Harren.
“You can speak comfortably.”
“Hmm? You’re quite proficient in Harren?”
“I can manage basic conversations. Where is the largest bookstore around here?”
“It’s not hard to tell you. If you buy something.”
“Hmm.”
The items on the old man’s mat were various trinkets.
Since there wasn’t anything I particularly needed, I pointed to a fountain pen that I thought might be useful.
“I’ll buy this.”
“One silver coin. We also accept Imperial notes.”
As expected from someone dealing with tourists, he was overcharging. I shrugged my shoulders and pulled out a gold coin from my pocket and handed it to him.
“Keep the change. Just show me the way to the bookstore properly.”
“Huh, you’re a generous one. I’ll draw you a map, so wait a moment.”
“Alright.”
The old man was quite skilled at drawing maps.
He must have memorized all the buildings around here, as he drew them with distinctive features, making it easy to find the bookstore.
Following the map drawn by the old man, I arrived at the bookstore.
The bookstore was quite large, just as he said it was the biggest in the area. However, it wasn’t as clean or sophisticated as the ones in the Imperial capital, and it seemed quite old, with a strong smell of paper.
I liked the atmosphere.
“Welcome. If there’s a book you’re looking for, please let me know, and I’ll find it for you.”
“I’ll browse around a bit on my own.”
“Alright!”
Even though I had managed to get all the novels from the Harren Kingdom in their original form back in the Empire, there were still many books I hadn’t seen before.
Among them were translations of the classics I had plagiarized from my previous life.
As for the quality of the translations… Well, I don’t want to speak ill, but let’s just say it was difficult to give a positive comment.
I decided to skip the translated books and read all the original novels from the Harren Kingdom.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes! Sir, is there a book you’re looking for?”
“Could you wrap up all the books I’m pointing to?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, and please recommend a lodging as well. I haven’t decided where to stay yet.”
“Are you joking with me─”
I pulled out a pouch of gold coins from my pocket and showed it to the owner.
The owner’s attitude turned friendly in an instant.
“I’ll take you to the finest lodging in the kingdom!”
* * *
I had left a message at home saying I would be late.
I wondered if my mother would have something to say when I got back. Well, I’d think about that later.
I holed up in the lodging for about a week, reading hundreds of novels.
And I discovered something quite peculiar: in the Harren Kingdom, socially critical and satirical novels were in vogue. This was in a nation where the king was an absolute monarch, the secular ruler of all nationals, and the head of the Eastern Church.
It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on.
“The royal family must be sponsoring this on purpose….”
A royal family supporting socially critical novels to transfer power to the nationals.
This country’s situation was indeed complex and bizarre.
But it wasn’t bad. On the contrary, it was very good. After all, literature progresses with the two wings of pure literature and participatory literature.
Closing the last book I had bought from the bookstore, I left the lodging and headed to a place I had researched for a week.
A building with ‘Ivan Publishing’ written on it.
I entered without hesitation.
“Is anyone here?”
“Hmm? Who are you?”
“I’m a translator. I came here because I want to work.”
“Excuse me?”
It was the publishing house that had printed the poor-quality translations I had seen in the bookstore.
As a reader before being a translator, I couldn’t tolerate the poor quality of the translated books. How much had I suffered in my previous life because of improperly translated literary works?
“I don’t mind working for free, just hire me for a week. I’ll handle all the books that urgently need translation.”
“…Oh, um, I’ll talk to the editor-in-chief first.”
“Alright. Here are the manuscripts I’ve translated. I hope they help with your decision. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“What name should I say?”
I hesitated for a moment about what to answer.
I didn’t feel like using my real name, and using names like Homer or Herodotus seemed inappropriate.
“…Sophocles.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sophocles.”
“Oh, okay. Mr. Sophocles.”
* * *
In the end, I succeeded in getting hired.
The editor-in-chief of Ivan Publishing seemed to like my translations. Or maybe he was tempted by the offer of free work. I’m not sure.
My role here was to translate literature from the ‘Empire,’ but sometimes I translated books written in other foreign languages as well.
“Excuse me, sir.”
“Yes! Oh, no, um, Mr. Sophocles.”
“I’ve made a simple guideline for translation. Since translations are often done haphazardly, I thought setting some principles would help improve productivity.”
“Oh, thank you!”
Thus, I translated various books into Harren.
I read books from the Harren Kingdom, researched the necessary social backgrounds for translation, and analyzed market trends.
In between, I ‘plagiarized’ a book.
“Editor-in-chief.”
“Oh~. Our treasure, Mr. Sophocles! What’s up? Finished translating already?”
“I’d like to serialize a novel in our publishing house’s magazine.”
“Not a translation?”
“No.”
“Hmm… that shouldn’t be a problem! Thanks to you, our publishing house is growing. What novel is it?”
“It’s a novel called Les Misérables.”
“The miserable ones? Nice title.”