We’ve gathered 3-minute speeches from book-loving reading club presidents. Discover stories conveying the joy of reading and the club’s vitality through short yet profound messages!
Reading is the best way to reflect
Hello, everyone.
I’m truly delighted that our club has expanded beyond online meetings to include offline gatherings this year. I sincerely thank you all for attending in such large numbers.
Lately, certain things have been making me sad. It’s not the passage of time, nor the world’s refusal to change. What truly saddens me is something seemingly small and trivial: that yet another bookstore has closed its doors today. Not long ago, I knew of several bookstores, but now most have closed their doors. The spaces they left behind are filled only by branches of large bookstore chains headquartered in Seoul. The few remaining used bookstores cling precariously to existence, surrounded by an ominous aura of uncertainty about when they might vanish.
Used bookstores, in particular, seem to be gradually disappearing not just in this area, but across the entire Republic of Korea. It makes me think that if this continues, Korea might become the only country without used bookstores. In cities of this size, hundreds of used bookstores still exist in the West or Japan. But it pains me to think of children who will live their entire lives immersed in TV, mobile phones, and the internet, without ever knowing what a bookstore is. What’s even more heartbreaking is that those children probably won’t even understand why I’m sad.
Few people even believe anymore that reading books improves the economy, builds knowledge, and enriches life. Hardly anyone brings up such ideas. The same goes for the claim that violence increases because people don’t read books. Some blame celebrities, politicians, movies, dramas, games, or even the news for the cause of violence. Of course, as the song lyrics say, the problem lies with adults, whose violence is a bigger issue. Yet the violent children themselves often don’t even watch the news.
We are increasingly heading toward an animalistic world. In such a world, books gradually become useless. The reflective and critical thinking skills once cultivated through reading are overwhelmed by electronic screens. As a result, not only thinking abilities but also conscience and guilt disappear, making violence commonplace. Dramas filled with clichéd historical plots and absurd stories flood the airwaves daily, while TV solely encourages consumption. Thus, the entire nation lives believing that buying things is the only path to happiness.
TV now controls people’s eyes and ears, and mobile phones have become like an extension of the body. Everyone deludes themselves into thinking they are happier thanks to TV, mobile phones, and the internet. But I believe that I, and many of you here today, must question whether that is true happiness.
Now, in the 21st century, the age of the digital revolution, as the value of books grows increasingly dim, is precisely when we must reflect on and protect that value. I hope that together with you, we can become a quiet yet firm starting point to stand against this cultural tide. I hope that through books, we can once again reflect on ourselves and gain eyes to see the world deeply.
Thank you sincerely for listening.
I insist on paper books
Today, it suddenly struck me how a month can pass like a single day. Standing at the threshold of the final month, I find myself reflecting on whether I lived these twelve months well. Each time I encounter the flood of new releases pouring out day after day, I am reminded anew of how deeply comforting books truly are.
A magazine analyzed the titles of books published this year, revealing that the most frequently appearing words were ‘I’ and ‘my’. This starkly reflects our increasingly individualized and fragmented society. Interestingly, within this trend of individualization, the word ‘we’ also ranked highly. Perhaps this reflects a lingering desire for connection and a longing for belonging, even in an era of each for themselves. Among words expressing emotion, ‘love’ was used most frequently, followed by ‘happiness’. People still carry the wish to be loved and to be happy, even in the titles of books.
A few days ago, I saw news that 50,000 pre-orders for the iPad sold out in an instant. I suddenly wondered: what exactly is the appeal of a cold machine that captures people’s hearts? Probably because the content it holds brings people joy, and the convenience of storing information and easily accessing it is a major advantage.
Before we knew it, we’ve become completely accustomed to electronic devices. We feel anxious and restless if our phone is separated from us even for a moment. They say nothing is softer than human skin, yet it seems we’ve entered a world more familiar with contact with machines than with other people. In the publishing world, e-books are also a major issue. Many people say they download content onto their iPhones or iPads and ‘view’ books. The era of ‘viewing’ rather than ‘reading’ has arrived.
Yet I still insist on physical books over e-books. I love the rustling sound of paper transmitted through my fingertips, and the tactile sensation and rhythm felt with each turn of the page are an emotion no electronic device can replace. Tolstoy said, “If you want to change your life, you must either meet a good teacher or a good book.” Whether it’s an e-book or a paper book, if a good book enriches your life, then the digital world is also quite appealing.
However, there is a downside. While the development of electronic media has made life faster and more convenient, it seems to be simultaneously diminishing the valuable time for deep reflection and thought. This is an especially serious problem for teenagers. Reading during adolescence helps form sound values and cultivates the ability to write and speak logically. Yet, seeing the widespread use of slang, colloquialisms, and abbreviations among young people today makes me worry whether the Korean language is slowly disappearing. The national language is more than a simple tool for communication; it embodies the spirit of a nation. I can’t help but feel anxious, wondering if this isn’t a sign that our culture and spirit are becoming impoverished.
As books published this year show, even in this digital age, we still yearn to be loved and to find happiness. As a singer once sang, people are more beautiful than flowers. Nothing brings us greater happiness than the warm love exchanged between people.
Thank you for reading. May a warm book always reside in your heart, like the warmth of the season.
Let’s read more books.
I love underlining passages in books.
For someone who enjoys collecting books, I handle them rather roughly. Unable to contain my thoughts, I scribble wildly, turning the margins black. When I don’t have a pen to underline, I fold the corners without hesitation.
Even after underlining with a pencil, if my excitement doesn’t subside, I’ll highlight it again with a highlighter. If that still feels insufficient, I must draw a large exclamation mark beside it before I feel satisfied. My habit might seem puzzling. Friends who always carefully wrap their books to prevent damage and turn pages with utmost care don’t understand my actions.
They’re shocked, as if it were some kind of sacrilege against the book, and try to stop me. But for me, there’s a clear reason I must underline precious books. It’s because I don’t want to lose that moment when my mind goes ‘ding!’—that very ‘ding!’ itself. Only by preserving that moment intact do I truly feel I’ve ‘met’ the book.
Of course, even after underlining so diligently, opening the book again after a long time doesn’t always bring back the exact same feelings. In fact, when I reread the entire book from the beginning to revisit those memories, I often find resonance in completely different passages. Even with the same book, the points that make that ‘ding!’ sound inevitably change each time—isn’t that the very charm of reading? When such moments arrive, I find myself underlining passages anew. No wonder my books inevitably become messy.
Not long ago, upon hearing of author Park Wan-seo’s passing, the first thing I did was pull her books from my shelf. As expected, the first thing that caught my eye were the lines I had underlined.
“The impatience to find it quickly was strangely accompanied by a despair that I would never find it.”
“Once I assumed the perfect posture for crying, the urge to cry and the tears themselves vanished completely.”
These sentences resonate deeply, even without context. They must have shaken my heart violently when I first read them.
There’s also this passage:
“A task as impractical as darning socks or knitting, a task that contributes nothing to anyone, yet one that demands my entire being… I want to be a storyteller neither too talkative nor too taciturn.”
Beside it, my scribbled note, “Me too!” is clearly visible. I could feel the youthful literary ambition of that time, how forcefully I must have pressed down on the pen.
Still, come on—not even ‘Me too,’ but ‘Me too!’ It’s embarrassing, but it also makes me laugh.
Following the underlined text and reading down to that scribble, I felt like I was holding my own quiet memorial service. Though I never met author Park Wan-seo in person, it must be because we shared a connection through her writing for so long.
The phrase ‘habits when reading books’ sounds really nice. The word ‘habit’ itself implies something ingrained through long repetition, which connects to reading a lot. Why not try developing your own little habit when reading books? It could be something as simple as underlining passages, taking notes, or closing your eyes and savoring a line before turning the page. Whatever it is, that act carries affection for the book.
Is there anything more important than reading?
I cheer for your reading filled with those ‘ding!’ moments, dear book lovers.
Thank you for reading.
Let’s build a library together
Hello, everyone.
A new year has dawned. I wonder how much of last year’s goals you achieved and if you’ve set plans for this year. According to a recent survey of people in their 20s to 40s, the top goal people want to achieve this year is ‘saving money,’ followed by quitting smoking, dieting, and reading. What are your goals for this year?
Honestly, my goal for this year is quite ambitious. I do worry if it’s truly achievable, but isn’t there a saying that ‘dreams and goals are better when they’re big’? So this year, I’ve set the goal of pooling our resources with fellow club members to build a small community library.
The start of this grand ambition began with something very simple. I believe books, no matter what they are, are food for the soul—magical entities that enrich both reason and emotion. That’s why the desire to share this joy with as many people as possible took root in my heart.
These days, with the widespread use of smartphones and the development of computers and the IT industry, fewer and fewer people are reading books. However, for me and my club members, who know the joy of reading well, this trend is nothing but disappointing. So, my first small goal was simply to ‘share the books I’ve read with those around me.’ There’s nothing more rewarding than recommending a book that moved me to someone I know. But reality wasn’t so simple. When I’d say, “You know that book? It’s great!”, the person would often reply, “I’ll read it,” only to never actually do so, citing reasons like not having time or not being able to find the book.
That’s when I thought: What if I just gave the books away myself and created time to read together and discuss them? Then, by chance, I started talking with people who wanted to read but couldn’t due to circumstances, or who couldn’t easily visit the distant city library. This sparked a more concrete idea: to create a small space where anyone could come borrow books and enjoy a warm cup of coffee.
Suddenly, I felt a pang of regret: ‘Why hadn’t I thought of this joyful and meaningful idea sooner?’ Reflecting on the word ‘people,’ it seems to hold the truth that we are beings meant to live ‘together’. Until now, I valued owning books more than sharing them, never truly appreciating the preciousness of sharing and exchanging books. Yet joy multiplies when shared. I believe the joy of reading is the same—shared, it grows twofold, fourfold, eightfold.
This coming year, our club plans to actively pursue establishing a library. Through a small but warm space, we aim to share the joy of reading with more people. And in that space, we hope people will naturally exchange stories, find shared understanding, and dream new dreams. As club president, I promise to do my utmost for this meaningful endeavor.
Thank you for reading this long message.
Let’s all build a library together.
Find questions within books and beyond them
Hello, everyone.
I believe our reading club has been able to operate so actively, bridging both online and offline spaces, entirely thanks to our members. The fact that this place for reading and sharing together is growing deeper and wider is due to each of your passion and interest.
I used to pride myself on reading a lot and writing quite a bit. But meeting you all here has opened up an entirely new world. Faced with your erudition and broad perspectives, I felt acutely how narrow my own view had been, and for a while, I couldn’t even lift my head easily.
One of our members advised, ‘It’s good to choose books slightly more challenging than your current level.’ They added that this prevents burnout while reading and leads to a greater sense of accomplishment upon finishing. This advice reminded me anew that simply reading many books does not make one wise. Perhaps those around me, seeing how much I read, didn’t know what advice to give. But thanks to that counsel, I’ve become able to think more deeply and see more broadly than before.
Having received such help, I now dare to offer one piece of advice myself.
When reading a book, we must not merely follow the narrative. We must pose questions within the book and continue questioning beyond it. If we don’t question the book, we can never transcend the author’s perspective. The insights gained from a book begin with questions, and those questions are sometimes only fully answered beyond the book’s sentences.
One parent said, “I’m worried because my child prefers people over books.” Perhaps those who find joy in meeting people may not be accustomed to solitary reading time. In such cases, having like-minded companions nearby can be a good solution. Embarking on book-related field trips or watching literary adaptations together to discuss them can also be effective approaches. As you accumulate such experiences, thoughts sparked by books will naturally flow into everyday conversations and expand into the joy of shared contemplation.
I am truly happy and grateful to share this common interest with you all. I hope our club grows richer with more stories and deeper sharing in the future. Thank you once again to everyone who consistently shows interest and participates.
Thank you for listening.
Give the gift of books
Hello, everyone.
We’ve already reached the end of the year. Time really flies, doesn’t it? I wonder how much of the goals you set at the beginning of the year you’ve accomplished. Fortunately, and happily, I achieved my goal, so I can say this with confidence and feel truly proud.
Actually, my goal was very simple—it didn’t require diligence or special effort, just a little bit of heart. I’m not naturally persistent, so I didn’t set grand ambitions. Yet even that small, simple practice can transform a person’s inner self, so in a way, I think it was a very big goal after all.
At the start of this year, I resolved to ‘share the books I read with those around me’. Recommending and gifting books that deeply moved me to friends and acquaintances. That was a small but truly joyful act. It made me wonder why I hadn’t done something this good sooner.
When it comes to books, I’m an omnivorous reader. Reading widely across genres, I found that the very process of pondering which book to recommend to whom became another pleasure. The joy of reading was enhanced by the delight of selecting a gift book while thinking of someone. After gifting several books this way, a senior colleague I’ve known for years told me: “I’ve set up a special shelf at home just for the books you recommended.”
Hearing this made me change one habit. Since childhood, I’d always write my name on the front page after finishing a book, and that habit lasted quite a long time. It even led my younger brother, who majored in sculpture, to carve my name into stone and make it into a seal. Finishing a book and stamping that stone seal cleanly on the front page was a great pleasure to me.
But now, I’ve decided to set that optimism aside for a moment. It’s so I can give books more freely, to more people. Without my name written there, I can pass them on more comfortably, and the recipient can accept them more easily too.
This coming new year, I plan to gift books accompanied by postcards. I believe that sharing a few short lines of heartfelt words and a passage from the book can enrich each other’s lives.
Books are a way to pass thoughts and a tool to convey feelings. Why not share this quiet, warm gift with someone this new year?
Thank you for reading.
The Joy of Used Books
After changing subways twice and passing through about seventeen stations, I get off at Nakseongdae Station. Exiting through Exit 4 and walking a few steps, one name stands out among the various signs: ‘Dirt Bookstore’. The name itself feels somehow familiar yet unfamiliar, piquing my interest.
Outside the bookstore, piles of old books, records, and videotapes are stacked high. The entrance is hidden among stacks of newly arrived books and uncategorized piles. Stepping inside, you see people scattered about, flipping through books or reading. I, too, put aside what I originally came for and dive into browsing the books.
Some books are ones I desperately wanted to read long ago but never bought. Others are books I devoured during my youthful, impassioned days, though the fervor has now faded. There are books bearing the logos of publishers that no longer exist, and sentences left behind by authors who have already left this world. Amidst these books steeped in the passage of time, my heart begins to stir. The pages of my life, long pushed aside, quietly surge back like waves within the scent of those books.
Secondhand books are not merely conduits for nostalgia. They are spaces that hold the very essence of what genres were popular, what books were bestsellers. Within that quiet secondhand bookstore, the memories of an era and my own life overlap, giving rise to a peculiar sentiment. While browsing through the shelves, I discover a book by an author who once challenged society with fierce questions. Though now a seasoned figure in journalism, the sentences he penned in his youth still brim with raw righteousness. A sharpness that feels like it could cut your hand. Traces of unripe, fresh yet rough emotions. I chuckled inwardly, thinking, I used to write like that too.
Come to think of it, even the best medicine can be poison depending on one’s constitution, and even the most expensive tonic doesn’t work for everyone. That’s one thing I finally grasped after living through it all. A truth I only truly understand now, at this age. Anyway, on the way home carrying several books bought for the price of one, I feel inexplicably happy. Opening one of them, a social science book, I find the owner’s name and date written on the first page, along with words pressed down tightly, recording the feelings at the time of purchase. I can’t transcribe them here, but the words radiate the energy of youth.
To be young is surely to struggle and agonize. If one lived without conflict or anguish, perhaps that wouldn’t be youth at all. Peering into the earnest struggles of that unknown person within the book, I too quietly return to my own younger days. That era, which once felt impossibly distant, that time I thought would never return, suddenly comes vividly alive again through a single used book.
Come to think of it, back in my youth, whenever I bought a book by Goethe or Dostoevsky, I would always write a resolution on the very first page, as if composing some kind of declaration. Those books are probably somewhere in an antique bookstore now, or perhaps they’ve already vanished from the world. Recalling those days feels like finally having a hearty meal of food I longed for but couldn’t have, savoring it alone.
Some philosophy books have pages densely covered in underlines. Some underlines perfectly match my own thoughts, while others make me wonder, ‘Why did they underline this part?’ It’s truly fascinating to briefly trace another person’s mind. It’s a different kind of pleasure from reading while trying to gauge the author’s thoughts. Following the traces of readers who came before me, it feels like peeking into the life of someone unknown. Perhaps this is the same sensation young people today enjoy when they ‘chat’?
I open the book again. Though I don’t know this person, I feel a quiet connection with a reader whose tastes somehow mirror my own. Walking through the pages with them, I feel a ray of light seeping into my own life. A subtle yet profound resonance. Isn’t that the true joy secondhand books offer?
Thank you for listening.
Visit a Used Bookstore
Hello, everyone.
Today, I’d like to talk about a space that’s become increasingly rare these days: the used bookstore.
Once common around university districts and bustling streets, used bookstores have now almost vanished. Even the few that barely survive seem to operate only by also selling online. In fact, today’s used bookstores are often seen as dusty spaces, true to their name. But if you just shift your perspective a little, you’ll find that special charm left by time is still very much alive there.
Like other secondhand shops, the biggest advantage of used bookstores is their low prices. Add to that the unique smell of paper mixed with a hint of mustiness, the joy of discovering rare editions that are out of print and impossible to find elsewhere, and the fun of searching for books while navigating the tightly packed shelves—and the place becomes like stepping into a scene from the past. The space may be cramped and uncomfortable, but the feeling that comes from flipping through the pages is rich and warm. It’s the perfect place to pass the time, and the overwhelming thrill of accidentally finding a book you’ve searched for endlessly is a special experience unique to used bookstores.
The books here aren’t merely old objects. Each holds someone’s past, carries the touch of the present, and sometimes even offers a glimpse into the future. Sadly, however, secondhand bookstores are losing their footing in the face of the convenience of internet shopping—where a single click handles ordering, payment, and delivery—and the overwhelming scale of large bookstores. They are being pushed out, both offline and online.
That said, secondhand bookstores aren’t purely romantic spaces. Books bought impulsively at bargain prices soon fill a corner of your room, eventually piling up like luggage, never once opened. The experience of accumulating books without actually reading them—we’ve all been there at least once.
Yet our nostalgia for used bookstores lingers. It’s not merely about cultural value, but perhaps a complex blend of pleasures: the thrill of collecting antiques cheaply, the satisfaction of growing a library, and a touch of intellectual vanity. I, too, visit used bookstores frequently for these reasons. And that feeling after buying a book—thinking I’ll read it someday—or simply gazing at shelves overflowing with books, feeling content just looking at them… Isn’t this the true charm of collecting books?
Used bookstores aren’t just places to buy books. They’re also analog-style amusement parks where you can buy and sell memories and nostalgia. I encourage you to take a moment from your busy life and visit a nearby used bookstore. An unexpected treasure of a book might be waiting to meet you.
Thank you for reading my words today.
I hope you enjoy the warm experience of encountering an old book, right at this very moment.
