Bora Chung, the acclaimed South Korean author whose collection "Cursed Bunny" made waves internationally after earning a spot on the International Booker Prize shortlist, is back with another spine-tingling collection of supernatural tales. Her latest work, "Midnight Timetable," promises to deliver the same masterful blend of horror and social commentary that captivated readers worldwide in 2022.
While the Booker Prize nomination sparked renewed interest in Chung's earlier works, "Midnight Timetable" features entirely new stories that showcase her evolving artistry. Originally published in Korean shortly after her International Booker shortlist announcement, the collection has now been released in the United States, United Kingdom, and Australia. Publishing rights have been sold to more than 10 countries, including France and Poland, demonstrating the global appetite for Chung's distinctive voice. The English translation is handled by Anton Hur, who previously translated "Cursed Bunny," "Your Utopia," and "The Red Sword."
For Chung, who openly describes herself as a horror enthusiast, writing "Midnight Timetable" felt like spending a day at an amusement park – pure excitement without the pressure of deadlines, simply enjoying the creative process of crafting ghost stories. "From a writer's perspective, ghosts can appear anywhere, at any moment and in any form. Anything is possible," she explained in an interview with The Korea Herald. "They can show up as only a body part, float in the air, appear upside down. Their versatility is incredible."
The universal nature of ghost stories across cultures gives readers an immediate understanding of the genre's conventions, Chung noted. However, this familiarity also presents unique creative challenges. "That's also what makes creating something truly new so difficult. The work becomes less about scaring myself and more like directing a film – constantly considering timing and placement, experimenting to find new ways to unsettle readers," she said.
"Midnight Timetable" consists of seven interconnected stories that revolve around a mysterious research facility dedicated to storing cursed and inexplicable objects. The collection's inventory ranges from seemingly ordinary items like a handkerchief and a pair of sneakers to more obviously supernatural objects such as a cursed sheep and other items possessed by mysterious presences. The facility itself seems to defy conventional reality, with hallways and staircases that appear and disappear at will, while ghostly whispers echo from the darkness.
The narrative unfolds through the perspectives of two primary characters: a night-shift security guard and a more experienced senior colleague. These narrators serve as guides, leading readers through the institute's eerie corridors and revealing the disturbing incidents connected to the facility's supernatural residents. Their patrol route follows the building's ominous midnight schedule, creating a structured framework for the supernatural encounters that follow.
Chung designed the reading experience to simulate visiting different laboratory rooms within the fictional institute. She chose a research facility as her setting because of her personal familiarity with academic environments, having spent many years working as a university lecturer. "Familiar spaces like schools or offices feel strangely different at night when no one is around," she observed. "I chose a research institute because it was the most ordinary setting in my life."
The COVID-19 pandemic transformed this familiar environment into something unsettling, providing the initial spark for "Midnight Timetable." During the early days of the pandemic, when classes moved online, Chung continued visiting campus for meetings and preparation work. "Seeing the entire building empty was terrifying," she recalled. "During holidays, an empty campus feels leisurely, relaxed. But the pandemic was different. I worried about whether students were safe, whether colleagues were sick, when any of it would end. That anxiety felt thick in the empty hallways. The classrooms were all vacant, but I kept imagining something hiding there."
Despite its supernatural wrapping, "Midnight Timetable" continues Chung's signature approach of weaving social commentary into horror narratives. While "Cursed Bunny" used a cursed rabbit lamp to expose corporate greed and corruption, this new collection employs surreal ghosts to illuminate the experiences of marginalized communities. The stories focus particularly on individuals pushed to society's edges: a worker disabled in an industrial accident, a woman who has been sexually exploited, and a queer individual haunted by societal prejudice. Their unresolved grief and anger drive the supernatural narratives forward.
Chung drew most of the collection's material from real-life stories shared by family and friends, as well as experiences she encountered while participating in various social protests. Since the project began during the pandemic, it also absorbed issues that intensified under social isolation, including rising domestic violence and increasing numbers of people experiencing homelessness and disconnection from support systems. "It might sound grand to call it social commentary, but these are really stories that real people live through every day. That's what makes them so horrifying," she explained.
In her author's note, Chung reflects on Korean folk ghost stories, particularly the archetypal vengeful maiden ghost, which often centers on the concept of "han" – a deep, unrelieved sorrow or resentment. Growing up with these traditional tales, she questioned why victims must wander endlessly as ghosts while their tormentors remain free. Although she imagined a world where the guilty face consequences and victims find peace, she deliberately avoided turning her stories into simple moral lessons.
"I didn't want to impose easy judgments on experiences I haven't lived, or force a happily-ever-after," Chung said. "Still, because the characters suffer so deeply, I found myself hoping they might find some measure of happiness. I wrote with that tension in mind." This approach allows the stories to maintain their complexity while honoring the real experiences that inspired them, creating horror that resonates on both supernatural and deeply human levels.
