“We cannot help but be interested in the stories of people that history pushes aside so thoughtlessly.”
Why?
That’s the first question that springs to our minds when reading this quote by Korean-American author Min Jin Lee, from her second novel, “Pachinko”. Why does the author believe that people have the innate curiosity to hear those countless silenced voices?
Perhaps the answer is rhetorical or obvious, but we’ll spell it out nevertheless - FEAR. What else could it possibly be? Fear results in coverups, lies, tragedy and death. History as a whole is a product of fear. Initially, people hid the truth for fear of it being ever found out, and they hid it well. That is why today, one of the few ways truth can see the light of day is through the medium of fiction. So it is fear that fuels curiosity to dive into history; the fear of it being forgotten, and the fear of unknowingly reliving it.
Min Jin Lee’s “Pachinko” is an attempt at just that - to remember the past, and hopefully avoid it in the future. Set in the 20th century, this novel follows four generations of a Korean family who immigrate to Japan amid the tumultuous times of Japanese colonization, war, and the yearning for a better tomorrow.
The novel sheds light on an often overlooked aspect of East Asian history - the complex relationship between Korea and Japan, the scars of oppression and colonisation that still mark Korean history.. Min Jin Lee’s dedication to the accuracy of facts is only surpassed by her rich characterization that draws the reader in and holds them for a major portion of the almost 500-page saga. This is not a period in history that we have learned about, making Pachinko just as much an educational read as an interesting one. Relegated as perpetual outsiders personified by their label - “Zainichi”, the Korean immigrants in Japan, as seen through the characters of Noa, Solomon, and even Sunja, find themselves unable to completely assimilate with the Japanese, both legally and culturally. Having to renew their ‘alien’ registration card every three years only serves as a constant reminder of their second-class status. Noa, who pretends to be Japanese, finds death a more welcoming prospect than his true Korean identity being revealed. Sunja, the matriarch of the family, thought of Japan to be a safe haven, but it was no better than the bleak existence in Korea that she had left behind.
Another aspect of the novel, true to the culture being represented, is the depiction of women characters. Though the novel gives the impression of it focusing on the lives of the male characters and the impact of imperialist exploitation on their lives, it is the women in the novel who weave the family together. They are the ones who work hard to support the family when the men are either indisposed, ailing or in prison. Their silent strength and tenacity speak volumes when reading between the lines. They are the voices who were not only silenced but the ones who were never even supposed to utter a word.
The omniscient narrative style used throughout “Pachinko” adds an ethereal quality to this historical family saga that in some ways is reminiscent of Umberto Eco’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude”. However, the Japan of Lee’s novel can never truly be called a Macondo.
While the positives do outweigh the negatives, there are a few drawbacks to this book. Being almost 500 pages long, this book is a commitment. The detailed descriptions and in-depth characterization that lend the book its richness, also contribute to its slow pace. Further, being a family saga, there are a lot of characters to keep track of, and it doesn’t help that the author adds a whole new set of characters towards the end of the novel. They have abrupt narratives, making it difficult to relate to them. This made us lose interest in the narrative towards the end, which is disappointing. All in all, if you’re looking for a story that transcends its characters and reflects an entire culture and society, Pachinko is the book for you!