Publishing without a narrative of poverty cannot grow.
A remarkable work, worthy of being called the Hillbilly Elegy of Asia.

A book may appear to be nothing more than a pile of words and writings created by an individual. However, publishing such a book becomes valuable to everyone because a personal narrative transforms into a story that penetrates the entire era and society. This book, by placing the word “poverty”, a social reality, after the word “my”, a personal perspective, becomes proof of that powerful transformation.

The greatest challenge faced by Asian countries emerging from their developing stages, as well as the advanced countries producing immense wealth through technological revolution, is relative poverty. While modern society has escaped absolute poverty, it remains lost on how to address relative poverty, allowing it to erode the engines of social progress.

Unfortunately, narratives that properly reveal the reality of relative poverty are highly insufficient. On one hand, there are overly emotional and private stories about poverty, and on the other hand, there are strictly social scientific analyses of poverty. The following questions are left unanswered and placed in a blind spot: “Why did my grandmother and father commit suicide despite having a social security system and public housing?” or “Why do I feel hopeless even though I have a family, a job and even a university degree?”

<My Poverty, But Not Mine Alone> is an autobiographical essay written by an author born in 1997 who has lived as a recipient of the basic livelihood security system for over 20 years. It precisely probes the reality of relative poverty faced by many Asian countries. With only 33 short episodes across 168 pages, this book nonetheless achieves something remarkable: it fuses the personal and the public into a single indivisible narrative.

This book shows how the poor grow up and what kind of social members they become within the social safety nets that have become universalized in Asian countries. It precisely describes childhood shaped more by social welfare system - such as the livelihood security system, educational support, meal support, and private scholarships - than family rules, and the socialization process marked by stronger ties to police officers, community center staff, and teachers than peers.

This new narrative of poverty becomes firmer because it was created in the form of a ‘book’ rather than news or video. There is a clear reason why countless readers have cheered for this small book. It deserves to be called the Hillbilly Elegy of Asia.

“If those seeking wealth write and sell so many books, why can’t poverty be sold? What needs to be written and sold more is poverty.” The author’s words in this book remind us of the original role that publishing has been loved by readers.

Publishing is a portrait of an era. Whenever it has fulfilled that role, it has been loved, and its reason for existence has been affirmed. This is a valuable work that freshly reminds us of the truth that every era has had its own narratives of poverty, and the value of books and publishing has been affirmed and grown when the narratives of poverty in each era is properly unearthed.