“Lee Ki-ho’s novel gave me courage—and that courage truly became courage: the courage to stay longer with someone I don’t know well but like.”
— Novelist Kim Hwa-jin

A writer who ceaselessly calls out the myriad names that hold individual lives, Lee Ki-ho returns with his first full-length novel in eleven years. With a loving voice, he calls out the names of dogs and their heartbreaking trails.

Interestingly, the companion dog that lives with the writer is also named “Lee Si-bong.” It’s easy to guess why the writer gave the dog his own surname and a name he often used for his fictional characters—he wants to treat his pet as a full family member and let it live happily. But is this mindset still under the influence of anthropocentrism? Can the happiness of a dog—or any animal living within human life—truly be judged by human standards? How much can two beings of different species understand each other? The Bright and Uncontentious Brief Life of Lee Si-bong is a novel born from these doubts and questions.

The novel depicts the journey of a Bichon Frisé named “Lee Si-bong” before it becomes part of a family. The dog receives its name through an act of redemption by someone who betrayed a comrade due to worldly injustice. Its lineage is sold to a dog farm amid the bitter tears of those who suffer while chasing their dreams. Its ancestors, once favored in European royal courts and then scattered, carry in their history the recurring failures of a humanity that knows how to fight but not how to love. Across multiple generations of dogs, interwoven with human lives, Lee Ki-ho reflects on “non-human” animals—sometimes infinitely cherished, sometimes cruelly sacrificed—and “non-animal” humans living alongside them.

My little dog, as small and heartbreaking as dust in a corner—
turns out to be a noble of nobles, once bred in European courts…
What adventures brought you to me?
Is living with someone like me really for your good?

Lee Si-seul, the guardian of Lee Si-bong, is a young man in his twenties, still adrift without a clear path in life. After his father’s accidental death, each member of Si-seul’s family carries an unspoken trauma. His father had brought Lee Si-bong home, adored it as “our youngest,” and his death was tied to the dog. His mother, though she rationally knows it’s not Si-bong’s fault, cannot forgive it emotionally. Living with his mother, Si-seul hesitates to love Si-bong freely, always watching the mood. He drinks to escape reality, yet still clings to Si-bong and cares for him—even as Si-bong grows as shabby and disheveled as Si-seul himself.

Watched with concern and pity by his younger sister Si-hyun and his friends, Si-seul lives in a small radius with Si-bong, struggling toward “recovery.” One day, a breeding company specializing in Bichons Frisés called “Ansian Old House” appears. Its chief breeder, Michelle Kim, tells Si-seul an astonishing fact: Si-bong is from a noble lineage once bred in European courts—a rare “King of Bichons.” Michelle offers a considerable sum to take Si-bong and lures Si-seul with promises of luxurious facilities and systematic care.

Though the offer seems absurd, Si-seul visits Ansian Old House and sees the representative, Jung Chae-min, pouring passionate affection into her own pets. He becomes conflicted. Lacking confidence in his own life, he wonders if he’s holding Si-bong back from a better future. His love for Si-bong is sincere, with nothing to be ashamed of—so why does he feel that love has grades? To verify whether the claim about Si-bong’s lineage is true, Si-seul traces the path his father took when he adopted Si-bong as a puppy. Then he uncovers another stunning truth: among his father’s friends was a human named Lee Si-bong. Si-seul always thought his dog’s name followed the “Si” generational name like his sister Si-hyun. As the secret behind the name unravels, the novel surges into an epic narrative.

From the Author
Actually, the dog that has lived with my family for eight years is named Lee Si-bong.
Whenever I looked into Lee Si-bong’s black eyes, I wanted to tell a story, and before I knew it, it had grown this long.
The novel may not be the ideal form for telling a dog’s story.
But it remains an effective form for questioning human responsibility toward dogs.
— Lee Ki-ho

Lee Ki-ho has received the Lee Hyo-seok Literary Prize, Kim Seung-ok Literary Prize, Korea Daily Literary Prize, Hwang Sun-won Literary Prize, Nogunri Peace Prize, and Dong-in Literary Prize. Born in 1972 in Wonju, Gangwon Province, he graduated from Chugye University for the Arts in Creative Writing and completed a doctoral program in Creative Writing at Myongji University Graduate School. He debuted in 1999 through Modern Literature’s new writer recommendation.
His works include the story collections Choi Soon-deok Full of the Holy Spirit, Wandering, Wandering, I Knew This Would Happen, Who Is Dr. Kim?, Kang Min-ho, the Kind Church Brother, the novels Good at Apologizing, A World History of Second Sons, the novella The Full Account of the Pasture Noodle Arson Case, and the short stories Nothing Much Usually, A Three-Year Habit Continues into Summer, Any Way You Look at It, a Love Story, Don’t Close Your Eyes, and more.
He currently teaches in the Creative Writing department at Kwangju University.