
The Cabinet [2006/21] – ★★★1/2
For the lovers of the incredulous and highly imaginative, this book details a number of extraordinary cases filed in Cabinet 13. The man in charge of the cabinet is Assistant Researcher Deok-geun Kong (the narrator), and even he does not know the full extent of the cabinet’s mystery or why the organisation known only as the “syndicate” is after it. There are medical mysteries here in the vein of Oliver Sacks (The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat), but completely fictitious, as well as Italo Calvino-inspired whimsy (see also The Musical Illusionist, a Borges-inspired book-encyclopaedia of fantastical curiosities that mixes facts and fiction). Deok-geun Kong’s boss is Professor Kwon, who is researching the world’s various “symptomers”, people who allegedly evolved “beyond humans” to the next phase, and are displaying surprising abilities or conditions. For example, there is a man who has a ginkgo tree growing out of his hand, a woman who has a doppelganger pestering her, and there are “time-skippers”, people who mysteriously disappear for days, months or even years only to reappear in distant places with no memory how they got there.
Despite the fantastical nature of the narrative, the author’s intention is clearly to link all the eccentricities displayed in the individual stories of the “symptomers” back to our real modern life and its absurdities. Our present daily life means increased connectedness, but also isolation, and high levels of productivity and success demanded and “seen”, but also depression, anxiety, and loneliness experienced (often behind close doors). Deok-geun Kong struggles in this ever-demanding, dehumanising capitalistic environment (see also the art of Tetsuya Ishida), feeling himself to be also a bit of an outsider in it, and perhaps that’s the reason he has so much interest in the “symptomers”, or feels empathy towards the most ostracised member of his company – a woman named Jeong-eun. This is interesting, but also, unfortunately, hardly original – see Osamu Dazai’s novel No Longer Human or Sayaka Murata’s novella Convenience Store Woman.
So, alongside, the fascinating stories of “symptomers” filed in Cabinet 13, we also read about the narrator taking care of Cabinet 13, and about his rather dull office environment and past. What does Professor Kwon‘s failing health mean for future research into the “symptomers”? It is anybody’s guess. There is much needless repetition in the novel, too, especially when the narrator muses about the mysteries or restates what we have already understood from his relationship with Professor Kwon. Naturally, it is far less exciting to plough through the descriptions of Deok-geun Kong and his life (endangered soon?) than it is to read about darkly amusing medical or time mysteries told in a crisp manner with a touch of irony.
Translated from the Korean by Sean Lin Halbert, this novel of extremes gets quite dark by the end, but this is still a relatively light read you can breeze through in no time. While frolicking aimlessly and at times chaotically, it is still largely thought-provoking, tapping into our natural curiosity about life.