Recent Reading: Pachinko

 

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee starts with the line

 

History has failed us, but no matter.

 

The line gives one a good idea of what to expect in the rest of the novel. Lee's novel is a rather long -- just short of 500 pages -- novel focused on four generations of a Korean family. The action takes place, at various times, on the Korean peninsula, in Japan, and in the United States. If you are looking for an experimental novel or a text that adds something new to the way novels are constructed, this is not the novel for you; if you enjoy realistic fiction focused on the ups and downs and inner lives of the characters, then Pachinko is a good book for you.

 

It is pointless to try and summarize the plot of such a long book. Instead, I would like to spend a moment talking about some of the themes Lee develops. 

 

One theme that comes up over and over again is the idea of wanting to belong but always being an outsider. This theme also highlights the issue that ethnic Koreans who have lived in Japan, sometimes, for generations often have to face — they continue to be seen as foreigners.

 

Another theme that comes up often in the book is that of food. This theme is not one I have seen discussed much in the reviews of Pachinko I have seen. Lee writes quite a bit about kimchi, about rice, and she also writes some very moving passages about the desire for food in times of war and poverty.

 

Lee sees food as connected to identity. This passage from near the end of the book is one of my favorites:

 

“Yodown and inneru like pajeon? So does Solomon! How does your umma make it?” Kyunghee asked; her tone was casual, though she held strong opinions about the ratio of scallions to shellfish.

“My mother doesn’t cook,” Phoebe said, looking only a little embarrassed.

“What?” Kyunghee gasped in horror and turned to Sunja, who raised her eyebrows, sharing her sister-in-law’s surprise.

Phoebe laughed. “I grew up eating pizza and hamburgers. And lots of Kentucky Fried Chicken. I love the KFC corn on the cob.” She smiled. “Mom worked in my dad’s medical office as his office manager and was never home before eight o’clock.”

The women nodded, trying to understanding this.

“Mom was always working. She did all the medical paperwork at the dining table next to us kids while we did our homework. I don’t think she ever went to bed until midnight—”

“But you didn’t eat any Korean food?” Kyunghee couldn’t comprehend this.

“On the weekends we ate it. At a restaurant.”

The women understood that the mother was busy and hardworking, but it seemed inconceivable to them that a Korean mother didn’t cook for her family. What would Solomon eat if he married this girl? What would their children eat?”

“She didn’t have time. That makes sense, but does your mother know how to cook?” Kyunghee asked tentatively.

“She never learned. And none of her sisters cook Korean food, either.” Phoebe laughed, because the fact that none of them cooked Korean food was a point of pride. Her mother and her sisters tended to look down at women who cooked a lot and constantly tried to make you eat. The four of them were very thin. Like Phoebe, they were the kind of women who were constantly moving around and seemed uninterested in eating because they were so absorbed in their work.

“My favorite aunt cooks only on the weekends and only for dinner parties. She usually makes Italian food. Our family always meets at restaurants.”

Phoebe found it amusing to see their continuing shock and disbelief at such a mundane detail of her childhood. What was the big deal? Why did women have to cook, anyway? she wondered. Her mother was her favorite person in the world.

“My brother and sisters don’t even like kimchi. My mother won’t even keep it in the refrigerator because of the smell.”

“Waaah,” Sunja sighed. “You really are American. Are your aunts married to Americans?”

“My aunts and uncles are married to non-Koreans. My brother and sisters married ethnically Korean people, but they’re Americans like me. My older brother-in-law, the lawyer, speaks fluent Portuguese but no Korean; he grew up in Brazil. America is full of people like that.”

 

I recommend this book.