𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊: A New Name for the Questioning Human

Think of the moment you open a book. Whether it is a child holding their first picture book or an adult staying up all night lost in a mystery novel, they are doing the same thing: knocking on the door to an unknown world. This is the essence of reading. This year’s book fair begins here.

The theme of the Seoul International Book Fair 2026 is '𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊'. 𝑫𝒖𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊 is a mythical figure from ancient Korean texts, the archetype of the 𝑫𝒐𝒌𝒌𝒂𝒆𝒃𝒊 (goblin), and an ancient name for a blacksmith. The 𝑫𝒖𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊 does not flee from the fire; he gazes into it. Fire is something to fear, something that could easily burn the wooden body of 𝑫𝒖𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊. Yet he does not flee, because he possesses the wisdom to handle it.

Today, the fire of AI blazes before us. No matter the question, AI answers without hesitation. It writes novels, composes songs, and directs films in an instant. There is no way to avoid this fire. What kind of wisdom, then, do we need in the face of these fierce flames?

Job sat upon the ashes. He had lost his children, his wealth, and his health. Three friends came to comfort him, claiming there must be a reason for his suffering—that it was due to his sins. It was a logically perfect answer. However, Job cast that answer aside and questioned God: Why do the righteous suffer? How do the wicked prosper? Why does a person, once dead, never return? In response to these reckless questions, God appeared not to the three friends who spoke the "correct" answers, but to Job—answering from the whirlwind with even greater questions.

Zhuangzi pierced this truth in a different way. One night, after dreaming he was a butterfly, he asked: "Was it I dreaming I was a butterfly, or is the butterfly now dreaming that it is me?" An AI would answer instantly: "With an overwhelmingly high probability, you are the human and the butterfly was the dream." But Zhuangzi’s question targets the very dichotomy that "overwhelming probability" assumes. Are the boundaries drawn between dream and reality, or right and wrong, truly self-evident?

Here lies the fundamental difference between humans and AI. AI closes the door of possibility with the most probable answer. Humans reopen that door with a greater question. Job’s questions rewrote the meaning of suffering, and Zhuangzi’s questions dissolved the boundaries of reality. Human thought has expanded into broader worlds not because of the answers pointed to by probability, but thanks to the questions aimed beyond those answers.

And books are the records of those great questions.

Ever since the first human approached the fire without fear, humanity has used that fire to create. The fire of AI is no different. The issue is not the fire itself, but what kind of questions we forge with it.

Stephen Dedalus, the young man from Dublin in 𝑨 𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒏, described that moment: "Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.“

Indeed, humans do not simply accept the answers dictated by probability. Humans throw those answers back into the searing heat of their own painful experiences and hammer them repeatedly with fierce questions. Unlike a machine that repeats correct answers from past patterns, humans open paths to infinite possibilities "yet uncreated" by questioning endlessly. That is how humans have mastered fire, and how we will continue to do so.

One who refuses safe answers and plunges into the unknown life a million times. One who gazes at the new fire and forges greater questions in the smithy of the soul to knock on the doors of worlds that do not yet exist. That is 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒐 𝒅𝒖𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊.

The Seoul International Book Fair 2026 is the place where those questions gather.

Now, what is your question?

𝑪𝒐-𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚: 𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒏-𝒔𝒖, 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒕 4.6, 𝑮𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊 3