Korean American Books

Summaries and reviews of fiction and nonfiction books by Korean American authors,
books about Korean Americans and Korea, and Korean literature in English translation,
including some academic works and a sampling on the Korean War

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Here I Am, by Patti Kim, illustrated by Sonia Sánchez



Vivid illustrations enhance this wordless book, showing a touching story of surprising depth. A recently arrived immigrant boy in an American city feels alienated by the language and all that is new to him. His longing for his homeland is embodied in a seed he carries in his pocket. But he loses the seed, and his search to recover it leads him to adventures that open his eyes to wonderful discoveries and friendship. The universal story of the irony of loss that leads to acceptance and growth is portrayed with a rich, yet simple, sequence of lively drawings that express his shift in understanding the language and culture. 

Thursday, May 29, 2014

The Fruit 'n Food, by Leonard Chang

This early KA novel (first published 1996), centered around the Fruit ’n Food grocery, focuses on a somewhat aimless young man who gets involved with the grocer's daughter. The compelling story shows a Korean perspective of the race riots of the 1990s.

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Racial Asymmetries: Asian American Fictional Worlds, by Stephen Sohn

Literature Review from ENTROPY, by Peter Tieryas Liu. Stephen Hong Sohn has written one of the smartest, analytical books on literature in the past year with Racial Asymmetries: Asian American Fictional Worlds. Sohn isn’t just a scholar, but an excavator, an archaeologist, an explorer, and a poet, traversing racial narratives to challenge “the tidy links between authorial ancestry and fictional content, and between identity and form, to expand what is typically thought of as Asian American culture and criticism.”

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Modern Korean Literature, Peter H. Lee

Translations of contemporary (up to 1990) Korean writings include poetry, fiction, essays, and drama, predominantly focus on the difficult, tragic and resilient history of Korea during the  twentieth-century. 

A Gesture Life by Chang-rae Lee

Rich language describes a Korean-Japanese-American former WWII medic living quietly in Connecticut in a small provincial town. Because of his past in the Pacific War post of Burma in 1945, and the Korean comfort women there, he lives a gesture life, one where all is sacrified in order to fit in and have surface equanimity. His adopted Japanese daughter hates him; guesses that she serves some purpose in his life that has nothing to do with her. Townfolk support the lead characters with finesse--he avoids passion and loses love and living. Smoothly transitions to flashbacks from present-tense daily contemporary life. Lee excels in expressing nner emotion, grander themes and gravitas in soliloquies that ache the heart. Eloquent writing, dense and thoughtful.

Native Speaker by Chang-rae Lee

With this 1996 debut novel, Chang-rae Lee entered the pantheon of literary best-sellers. Part mystery, part spy story, part immigrant experience, the story examines the character and identity of Henry Park. With this character, Lee begins his theme of studying the externally remote, yet internally tortured man—one who is haunted by trauma or tragedy in the past, most often relating to events in Korea. The complexity of this novel, combined with Lee's signature muscular prose and precision sentences, have made it a continued excellent read.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Turn to the East, by Caroline Singer and
C. Le Roy Baldridge


As a piece of "living history," this fascinating large-format volume brings together the narrative of Caroline Singer and artwork of her husband, Roy Baldridge, of their year (likely 1924-25) in the Far East, including Japan, Korea and China. What makes this work fascinating is the sensitivity of these Westerners about what they experience and how it compares to other Western and political prejudices. From the Foreword: "So here…rendered in two different media, brought together because they are complementary, the imprint of the East on two different personalities. 

"It is no easy task, this rendering. Only the dull rush heedlessly into print with 'impressions of the Orient." To those with more sensitive perceptions, the East is too overwhelming for easy articulateness. It intimidates. The first few hours in Peking not only confuse, they frighten. Color is too vivid, motion in too unfamiliar a rhythm, mass too imposing, the content of the life about one too alien for translation into term intelligible to the Western mind. Another barrier also intervenes: the prejudices of foreign residents. To escape the influence of either their over-enthusiasm or maladjustment is difficult for one thrown suddenly into an alien culture."


But the two manage, despite all that. She overcomes her culture to strip and change in front of a crowd of welcoming swimmers (men and women) to Japanese men's underwear (the only garments that would fit her), enjoying the swim, only to realize the white garments are transparent in the water. But by then, she recognizes that no one cares, and so she lets it go and enjoys the company and the swim, to the horror of her husband. His illustrations are without prejudice, sensitive to the reality he portrays and skilled in his artistry to show it as real.

For Korea, they take note of the modernization that Japan brought with colonization, but also note that it was unwelcome, and she tells one particular story that exemplifies the effect of such change—hard white highways built by the Japanese, excellent railways, and in particular one steel bridge:

"Last night from the steel bridge a Korean girl threw herself into the river. Her body was found by fishermen at dawn.

"Not much over sixteen, she had been wed to a youth of her own age, wed in the traditional manner by arrangement between families. Such a marriage being almost inviolable, a divorce would be the affair not of individuals, but of clans. From the first, the girl was gentle, knowing a wife's duty. But the young man was of a newer mold, a rebel against tradition, against old-fashioned authority. He wished to choose a wife for himself. [He went] to the local authorities, the new rulers whose power is naturally greater than that of a subject's father…[and appealed] in the name of the law as new as the bridge, and as alien. What he demanded was granted—a modern divorce.

"She who had been a bride was now neither a wife nor yet a maid free to reenter her father's house, eligible again for marriage. No respected Korean family would accept her as daughter-in-law. Scorned publicly by her husband, she was disgraced, and her shame became the shame of her bewildered relatives. In her father's house she was, as in her husband's, unwelcome.

"Wearing fresh white linens from her bridal chest, she ran, last night, to meet death. Through stinking streets, past barred gates of unfriendly houses, past barred gates of the mission's gardens, she ran, a whimpering thing in white, while we lay between decent sheets, dreaming. This is the story I got this morning from the missionary's wife, whose cook had it from the gatekeeper, he having listened to the group of peddlers.

"Today I will not go down to the river."





Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The Korean Americans, by Brian Lehrer (The Immigrant Experience series)

A middle-grade book that appears to be part of a series on the immigrant experience. What strikes me foremost is that it was published in 1988, four years before Sa-i-gu, the Los Angeles race riots, which was a benchmark for change in Korean American and American relations. And so, in that light, it's interesting to see how this book both attempts to delineate the particularities of the Korean American experience while simultaneously reinforcing burgeoning stereotypes of the KA culture. The photographs and brief modern Korean history up until the repeal of the Oriental Exclusion Act are interesting. A good “history in it’s time” brief reading.

I Married a Korean by Agnes Davis Kim

My family knew Agnes Davis Kim as "Auntie Agnes," though she wasn't a blood relative. My Korean parents knew her, perhaps from Korea, perhaps afterwards as immigrants in America, but her book was always on our shelves, and we would visit Auntie Agnes and Uncle David on their farm in the Catskills every summer when I was young. I saw a calf being birthed on their farm, circled cow pies, drove in the herd, woke early to watch the milking machines, had my first (awful) taste of raw milk straight from the cow (blue strings in it), and smelled chitterlings cooking for the first time ever when I sneaked into the worker's quarters. I slept on a cot in the living room with my 5 other siblings, and roamed the fields and woods during unforgettable farm summers. I finally read her book, and though I remember seeing her lovely and informative illustrations, it is only now that I can appreciate what she went through to have accomplished an interracial marriage in that time. The American community in Korea was against it, aghast, really, and she faced them all and insisted on the choice of love. She adapted her life with pioneer-woman strength to the more close-to-the-earth kind of life of Korean women of the day, and created many modern conveniences within her own home (especially the kitchen) in order to run a smooth household. Among them: a method of creating hot running water, learning how to perserve and keep food through the winter the Korea way, learning how to be subservient in appearances for her husband's sake, and creating and running a successful women's clinic in the midst of Japanese colonial oppression. I had never known she was medically trained, nor had I known the kind of racism she had experienced for her choice to marry. It is an informative and interesting book that portrays these kinds of personal struggles, as well as the inventive solutions she applied to overcome them. Her love of both her husband, his family, and the Korean people is palpable, and honorable, and her illustrations bring to life in detail the challenges of her life in Korea. The image isn't the book cover (a navy blue cloth binding) but is the frontispiece, one of Mrs. Kim’s illustrations presented throughout the book.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Remembering Korea 1950: A Boy Soldier's Story by H. K. Shin

This slim volume, a gem, tells Shin's story of his boyhood and his experience in the Korean War as a sixteen-year-old ROK soldier. While many books written in English cover the action and politics of the war, especially from the American point of view, few tell in such a personal way about the individual Korean experience of this war on families, on refugees, on the young men in battle. Laced with important historical hindsight about the movement of the war, the narrative has the ring of truth of the young man who witnessed many aspects of this confusing war and reconstruction, and who managed to survive in order to continue his education. It is both informative and charming, as the narrator's voice is one of self-deprecation and gentle humor.

Forgotten Country by Catherine Chung

Catherine Chung's acclaimed debut novel (a Booklist Starred Review, among other terrific press) earns its accolades with elegant prose and a story of an immigrant family. Set in both America and in Korea, Janie's complicated relationship with her missing sister, Hannah, stands as a metaphor for Janie's own complicated relationship with her parents and with her identity. The story examines the loyalties in family love, how they originate and how they evolve and affect each family member. Much of what makes this book sing is Chung's gorgeous writing and sensitivity to the subtle, and the leaps from a tiny moment of emotion that expands its meaningfulness to the universal, regardless of one's country of origin. 

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

I Am the Clay, Chaim Potok

An old woman and an old man flee from their village outside of Seoul (south of the river Han) when the Chinese join the North Korean People’s Army and invade Seoul for the second time. In the early days of their journey they find a boy, bleeding with a shrapnel wound, in a ditch. Having lost a son in childbirth, she rescues him more than once from the brink of death, her prayers to the spirits constant, while the old man resists helping this stranger. They struggle to survive crossing the mountains and the wretched last winter of the Korean War. In the old man's opinion the boy has special powers that have brought them meat and relative health. While the old woman finds peace in the belief that this is a son sent to her.

This intense character study of two simple people whose lives are utterly altered by war is deeply felt and written with power and grace, without attempting to soften the gruesome brutality of war. It is also an excellent point of view on the Korean War from peasants’ lives.

Excerpt from Chapter 3, page 63:

Fearful, they stood at the mouth of the cave staring into a darkness that would not open itself to their eyes. The dank fungus smell of sun-starved stones and earth brushed against their faces and filled their nostrils.

Knopf, 1992

Sunday, January 15, 2012

The Orphan Master's Son, Adam Johnson

Riding a crest of enormous praise, this debut novel by an American man about a North Korean citizen is a worthy achievement, and one I couldn't put down for two days straight. Despite twists of plot that in fiction often seem too coincidental, the reader's sympathy and alignment to the protagonist is so rich and deeply felt that these happenstances feel believable, and are forgivable. The book paints a harsh reality of life under Kim Jong Il, and though I think there is much basis for the events portrayed in this novel, it seems still to be a decidedly Western take on those difficult truths. The extremism of the ideology and the brutality of prison camp life and interrogation techniques are undeniable, and feel thoroughly researched. My question relates to the premise of the idea of a desire for freedom in the Western sense of freedom, a striving for an unknown entity that is at its core that sense of freedom for this people, who have a long history of oppression and suffering. The book is a page-turning thriller, with gravitas, and a heroic portrait of an exceptional man living under the pressure of exceptional times, undergoing gradual change that challenges his core identity and his pursuit of what it is to be human. Some of his characters, like the Captain and Mongyong, as well as minor incidental characters with mere walk-on roles, like the Japanese girl on the pier, will not soon be forgotten.

The telling of this story is structurally interesting, interwoven by DPRK Citizen’s broadcasts, and with shifting points of view to bring in several aspects to present a communal take on a story.

NY Times January 15 review

Monday, November 7, 2011

Miles from Nowhere, by Nami Mun

With stunning prose and a sensitive eye for detail, Mun unfolds five years from age 14 in the gritty and difficult life of a young Korean American runaway on the urban streets. Not only does Joon quickly lose her innocence and succumb to the seemingly soothing beguile of drugs, leading to heroin addiction, she must fight for a lost identity as she attempts to reconcile being the daughter of an abusive and abandoning father, and a neglectful and strangely behaving mother who only has eyes for the father. Though what Joon lives through and what she remembers is horrific and exactly as awful as one imagines such a hardscrabble life can be, Mun's unsentimental take on it and her stunning prose that reaches deep into the core questions of what makes us continue when so much is lost, when even the self is seemingly without redemption, is what makes this book a breathtaking reward.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

My Innocent Uncle, by Ch'ae Man-sik

Ch'ae Man-shik (or Man-sik), who wrote stories and novels during the colonial period, is considered one of the greats of Korean modern literature. Like his other work, these three stories hone in on individuals who face the dilemmas of their times, those dilemmas of culture and historical circumstance which offer a tragi-comedy of errors. His renown rises from targeting the common man, not the upper class, and by using the common vernacular and dialect in satirical portrayals of life under the Japanese and shortly after liberation. "My Innocent Uncle" is told from the point of view of the uneducated nephew who works for a Japanese businessman. He thinks his intellectual uncle is the fool, having been arrested for socialist ideals, and his aunt even more of a fool, since she has cared for him despite the uncle's affair and lack of "real work." It's a biting commentary both on the intellectual idealists of the era, and on those who collaborate and believe the promises of the Japanese. Looking at the life of the student intellectual, "A Ready-Made Life" follows a young man who, educated by the Japanese like all his contemporaries, remains jobless, broke and aimless. "Once Upon a Paddy" feels Chekhovian in its portrayal of a hapless farmer who tries to take advantage of an opportunity to sell his land to a high-paying Japanese speculator, but ends up owning nothing, even after liberation, which he had counted on to have his property returned to him. The stories are remarkable in their intimacy with character, historical and political outlook and use of detail about the period.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

An Appointment with My Brother, by Yi Mun-Yol

The famed South Korean writer imagines meeting his North Korean brother after the death of his father--a defector to the North in the narrator's youth (a fact that parallels the author's life). The narrator, a professor of history who has suffered as a result of his father's defection, joins a tour group to Yenji, a chinese border town from which groups are allowed to see the famed Mt. Baektu and other North Korean sights. In this town, he meets his brother while at the same time encountering members of his group, who have their own agenda, political and economic. The narrative encompasses much discussion of unification along with many poignant episodes of cultural misunderstandings between the two brothers, who have an undeniable bond of brotherhood, despite years of resentment toward one another. Included in this story is an interesting explanation of the genealogical traditions of family namings, provided with a clarity and thoroughness I haven't seen before. Written in 1994, the novella is a snapshot of the politics of unification (prior to the Sunshine Policy) at that time.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Twofold Song, by Yi Mun-Yol

In a beautifully illustrated and bound bilingual edition, famed writer Yi Mun-yol's story of the last encounter of an affair presents as allegory of ancients and modern mixed together, with a coda that changes all that primordial prehistoric metaphor into something altogether different. The title of the story and its writing parallel each other with a constant shifting of sides and views, past and present, contrasts and similarities, profound with mundane. At times, the story has the flavor of Korean drama (melodrama) on its surface, but the thought and structure of this story are subtle, complex and interwoven without answer, much like how life is. Translated by Kwon Kyong-Mi, illustrated by Kwak Sun-young. Hollym, 2004.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Martyred by Richard E. Kim

Richard E. Kim’s book THE MARTYRED, a 1965 National Book Award Finalist, became a Penguin Classic book in May 2011 (pictured left). The introduction is by Heinz Insu Fenkl, with a Foreword by Susan Choi. This Korean War story follows Captain Lee who investigates the murders and kidnappings by North Korean Communists of Christian ministers and priests. As Lee investigates the depths of this crime, he examines the meanings of faith and martyrdom in a narrative that is both a thriller and a fascinating exploration of these themes. 

Sunday, August 21, 2011

KYOPO by Cindy Hwang (CYJO)

The Kyopo project by artist Cindy Hwang is a five-year photography and textual endeavor that explores and exposes the breadth and individual depth of people “of Korean ethnic descent and living outside of Korea,” from which the acronym derives. Several of CYJO’s KYOPO photographs are on exhibition as part of the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery’s “Asian American Portraits of Encounter,” October 12–October 14, 2011. The photographs line the main hallway of the exhibition, while about eight side galleries feature other Asian American portraiture works, all of them equally stirring and evocative.

This massive book delves deeper than the exhibition can, presenting more than 200 individual photographic portraits, all in a similar pose, in the exact same setting with same lighting, and, most strikingly, of a similar scale. While these elements serve to give a surface uniformity to the book, what rises is the distinct individualism of the members of this grouping, both visually and with textual information. Photographs are displayed on the left while on the right are text blocks of their name, occupation, where they were born and where they live, and a few paragraphs of their response apparently to a question about KYOPO identity.

This is a stunning photographic and textual work, capturing five years in the cultural phenomenon of “Korean America.” An insightful foreword by Marie Myung-Ok Lee (author of Somebody’s Daughter), and an introduction by Julian Stallabrass further explore the impressions and content of this work.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Night Sessions, by David Cho

This wonderful book of poems (CavanKerry Press, 2011) evoked tears, laughter, admiration and wonder. Cho captures with stunning delicacy a son’s love and longing for his father, the everyday, seemingly mundane yet forceful travails of being Korean American, and the complex relationships to a separate country of origin, while also expressing through this collection a coming-of-age story within a Korean American family that has experienced hardship and grief, all with exquisite language and sensitivity. I read most of these out loud, and their form only lends to their mellifluousness. As with the work of Monica Youn, whose creative word wizardy is often felt here, many of these poems left me breathless.