Paek Namryong’s
Another South Korean writer Yun Chŏngmo said,
Their genuine shock over Paek’s
Paek’s other stories such as
I am not suggesting that
The majority of the conclusions in North Korean novels not only promote the Party and offer “eternal optimism,”5 but, more implicitly, reinstate a maledominated socio-political order. In short, novels in North Korea en
Paek Namryong’s
A few South Korean specialists on North Korean literature like Kim Chaeyong, O Ch’angun, Roh Kwinam, and Ko Inhwan have hailed
Even with the reprinting of Paek’s
To think that ironic readings in North Korean novels do not exist in such a totalitarian society may be underestimating the single most effective tool that writers wield: language. Though a unitary language of the Party’s directive is often demanded from the writers, Bakhtin (1981, 3) asserts that the novel is the sole genre that continues to develop, that is as yet uncompleted. Paek’s
1From here on I will use my translation, Friend. 2This quotation is found in the appendix of the South Korean publication of Paek Namryong’s After 60 Years in 1992. 3Refer to Jaejin Su’s The Impact of Personality Cult in North Korea for a deeper analysis of the “middleman” in North Korean socio-politics. 4Refer to Tatiana Gabroussenko, “North Korean ‘Rural Fiction’ from the Late 1990s to the Mid 2000s: Permanence and Change.” Korean Studies 33 (2009): 79–81. 5Refer to Stephen Epstein, “On Reading North Korean Short Stories on the Cusp of the New Millennium,” Acta Koreana 5, no. 1 (January 2002): 33. 6Sin Hyŏnggi and O Sŏngho (2000, 321), argue that Friend shows the revolutionary love of the couple, that there have not been any other novels in North Korea that portray love as such. While this may be true—and certainly the way the Party wants the readers to interpret the novel—I argue that there is not enough evidence in the text to suggest the couple’s unification. 7Individuality is highly regarded in North Korean literature. The individual does not refer to rights to privacy and private property, as Sonia Ryang (2002) notes. Instead, the individual in North Korea is self-cultivating in light of Kim Il Sung’s Juche ideology. 8The collection of these optimistic scholars’ essays is in Pukhan munhak ŭi chihyŏngdo [Topography of North Korean Literature] (Seoul: Ehwa Womans University, 2008). 9Refer to Kwŏn yŏngmin, Han’guk hyŏndae munhaksa [History of Korean Modern Literature]. Seoul: Minŭmsa, (2010): 424.
II. THREAT TO THE (GREAT) FAMILY
In North Korean literature, a tale of the family ineluctably ensues the construction of the “Great Family,” which consists of Kim Il Sung as the Father, the Party as the Mother, and the people as the children. This type of literature is most notably a reflection of Kim Il Sung’s
Narratives that take place during the colonial period or the Korean War often depict victimized families, persecuted by the colonialists or American imperialists as Brian Myers (1994) discusses through the works of Han Sŏrya and others after liberation. In these narratives, fathers are often ruthlessly murdered by the imperialists or have died on the battlefield, usually leaving the mother and her children vulnerable to the perpetrators. The outcome of these stories often finds or replaces the former head of the family with a new one under the guidance of Kim Il Sung or the “correct” attitude toward a brighter socialist utopia.
In other instances, the dissolution of the nuclear family may have been considered a righteous, self-sacrificing decision as long as it was for the cause of the socialist revolution. For example, in one of the self-proclaimed masterpieces in North Korean literature
The future of the socialist revolution is prioritized over the nuclear family in
Ri Kich’ang’s
However, the literary trend shifts in the late 1970s and 1980s, where domestic problems—discord between husband and wife, hostility between daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, and generational gaps between parents and children—increase in narratives to identify the source of the problem or internal members of society who weaken the stronghold of the socialist family.11 Kim Kyosŏp’s
Suzy Kim (2010) reassesses the woman question by examining the role of the revolutionary mother in the early development of the DPRK. According to Kim (2010, 760), motherhood was defined as the most exemplary form of selfless public service, which not just women but everyone should strive to emulate. Much like the mother in
The woman question reemerges in the 1980s, requiring the women not only to work physically for the nation but to strengthen their ethical imperatives as a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter, or a daughter-in-law according to the nation’s demands that one’s ethical obligation to the state or nation transcends all familial or personal duties. This kind of ethicality can be seen in Ri Inch’ŏl’s
Although raising the consciousness of the women or the masses with the correct ideology is nothing new in North Korea, the 1980s marked a significant transition in both the political and literary world. In February of 1982, Kim Jong Il was announced as the successor to Kim Il Sung and, as a result, literature produced in the literary journal
Thus, literature depicts domestic problems as the modality of restoring the head of the household and raising the consciousness of the family members. The nuclear family functions as the appropriate allegory for the succession transition along with some contemporaneous social problems. It is amid these socio-political conditions that Paek’s
This novel makes divorce its central motif, which is rare, if not nearly nonexistent, in North Korean literature before its publication in 1988 as it threatens the dissolution of the revolutionary family. Turbulent marital problems, issues with raising children, and desires to live a comfortable life devoid of Party directives are some of the concerns in
The main couple comprises Sŏkch’un and Sunhŭi who both want a divorce because of personality conflicts. The second couple comprises Ch’ae Rim and his wife (who makes an appearance without a name), who divorced because of personality conflicts. The third couple comprises a coal factory worker and a schoolteacher who have been faithfully married despite myriad personality conflicts. Finally, the fourth couple comprises Judge Chŏng Chinu and Ŭnok who face marital problems because of Ŭnok’s long absence from home to conduct her research.
It may appear as though Paek polarizes two sets of couples to distinguish the ideal family (coal miner and schoolteacher) from the anti-revolutionary one (Ch’ae Rim and his wife). In stories like Ri Inch’ŏl’s
However, Paek’s narrative strategy is not for readers to choose between the ideal and the anti-revolutionary couple. Instead, Paek focuses on every couple’s marital problems in the novel to show the transformational process of a dysfunctional family into a revolutionary one. According to Ko Inhwan (2008, 309), the problem between Ch’ae Sunhŭi and Ri Sŏkch’un is not to show how one overcomes the other, but rather, to show how the two acknowledge their mutual problem in order to create a better future for themselves. The achievement of this “better future” is orchestrated by the “hidden hero.”
10The transliteration of the characters’ names in this paper is taken from the DPRK’s translation of Sea of Blood. 11Refer to Kim Chaeyong (1994, 260–270) for a detailed analysis of various motifs in North Korean literature during the 1980s. 12This is what Sin Hyŏngki and O Songho refer to as “technological ideology,” where characters in novels increase their technological education directly for the construction of the nation (2000, 327). 13This is not to say that Kim Il Sung always had Kim Jong Il in mind as his successor. According to the South Korean scholar Jae Chun Lim (2009, 52), Kim Il Sung had prepared Kim Yŏngju (Kim Il Sung’s brother) above anybody else as his most probable successor. However, Kim Yŏngju’s poor health forced Kim Il Sung and his old guerrilla comrades to change their succession plan and search for an alternative (Lim 2009, 53). Although the North Korean media began to disclose specific evidence indicating the political succession in early 1973 (Lim 2009, 54), it was not until 1982 that literary works on Kim Jong Il’s personality cult appeared in Chosŏn munhak.
Sŏkch’un and Sunhŭi’s marital problems are presumably resolved by the incorporation of a new member into the couple’s family: Chŏng Chinu (a legal cadre member).14 Throughout the novel, Paek vacillates between using “Judge Chŏng Chinu” and “Chŏng Chinu.” Paek shows the transformation and implication of Chŏng Chinu from an impersonal cadre member to a personal, paternal member of Sŏkch’un and Sunhŭi’s nuclear family. When Sŏkch’un and Sunhŭi leave with Honam (their son) from Judge Chŏng Chinu’s apartment, the narrator says, “The judge wasn’t their relative or a friend, but to invite the family over to his house and offer this kind of hospitality was out of the ordinary. The three left the judge’s house” (Paek 56). Later, when Chŏng Chinu criticizes Sŏkch’un, he says, “I’m advising you, not as a judge, but as your elderly friend.” (Paek 158). Finally, toward the end of the novel, Chŏng Chinu asks if he could visit Sŏkch’un and Sunhŭi on the day of their anniversary: “I want to go over to your house not as a judge but as your friend. Honam will also greet me like his pal.” (Paek 165). Chŏng Chinu’s emphasis on the idea of “friend” seems to carry more weight than his occupation as a cadre member in the legal world. For Chŏng Chinu, becoming the
Chŏng Chinu represents the hero of the narrative due to his strong moral qualities, un-bureaucratic attitude, and intention of revolutionizing the family. North Korean literature specialistKim Chaeyong (2000, 292) considers Chŏng Chinu to be the “hidden hero” of the novel. Heroes of this kind are not guerrillas during the colonial era or soldiers on the battlefield during the Korean War but common people. At the same time, “he must be able to show his objective development as a prototypical hero” (Kim 1994, 274). Chŏng Chinu is an ordinary civil servant, who embodies the magnanimous virtue of a hero. He is what Kim Chaeyong refers to as the “people’s friend” (
The “hidden hero” campaign in the 1980s singled out model citizens who manifested ideal characteristics for others to follow. With the need to advance society with technology—under the auspices of the Three Revolutions—the role of the hidden hero provided morale for failing individuals to become reincorporated into society. The family revolution, therefore, became the method by which the Party eliminated and collectivized individualism. This campaign asserted that the nuclear family is only a cell of society, but that “proper” care and discipline are required to prevent the cell from turning into a cancerous one. In one instance, Chŏng Chinu cultivates vegetables during Ŭnok’s absence. Chŏng Chinu’s tending of vegetables in a greenhouse reflects the micro-politics of maintaining and monitoring the nuclear family. Chŏng Chinu controls the humidity level, measures the temperature, and clears away any weeds that may deter the health and growth of the vegetables. Although he grumbles about his absent wife for leaving him with all the household chores, Chŏng Chinu faithfully tends to the vegetables as if they were his own. His attitude toward the vegetables mirrors the way he nurses Sŏkch’un and Sunhŭi back to marital health. After Chŏng Chinu criticizes Sŏkch’un for falling behind the times,15 Sŏk’ch’un enrolls in night school at a technical institute. His tenderness toward the couple as their friend makes Chŏng Chinu a parental figure rather than a faceless bureaucrat.
His antithetical position against Ch’ae Rim, who is self-serving rather than serving the needs of the people, further secures his position as a hero. Ch’ae Rim’s obese body symbolizes his opulent lifestyle and power. His silk suits and fashionable neckties show the disparity between the elite cadre members and the workers. Ch’ae Rim is accused of falling into bureaucratism and formalism—which are the two ideologies most deleterious to the construction of the state—for profiting from government funds.16 After Chŏng Chinu threatens to arrest Ch’ae Rim for fraudulent activities, Ch’ae Rim confesses his misconduct and promises to redistribute the funds properly. Unlike the villains in the past, the literature of the 1980s presents the “enemy of the state” as no longer being found outside the Edenic society of the DPRK but rather inside, disrupting the movement of the state toward its socialist perfection.17
Paek’s portrayal of “Chŏng Chinu” as the sympathetic people’s friend, who transforms the nuclear family into a revolutionary unit by eliminating the family’s discord, and “Judge Chŏng Chin-u” as the unerring law enforcer, who proceeds to prosecute and attack the “cancerous” individuals in society runs parallel with the Party’s family revolution. In this respect, Chŏng Chinu assumes the category of the prototypical hero as discussed in Kim Jong Il’s
At the same time, Chŏng Chinu’s psychological development provides depth to his character, which allows the readers to sympathize with the otherwise magnanimous hero. Amid conflicting marital couples, Chŏng Chinu’s own marital problems also tread along the verge of divorce. His wife Ŭnok’s extended absences from her domestic duties as a wife cause Chŏng Chinu to feel pangs of regret. When he comes home to an empty apartment, Chŏng Chinu thinks to himself: “Does a husband have to understand the woman’s duty as a housewife? It’s not like her research is ground-breaking; it’s just cultivating vegetables” (Paek 23). The narrator adds:
But after resolving other couples’ marital problems, Chŏng Chinu recognizes the importance of his wife’s research for the community, that a healthy family must overcome personal interests for the improvement of the collective. He, therefore, transcends the limits of his personal angst toward his wife and supports the agricultural advancement of the collective for which his wife works:
Chŏng Chinu’s ability to accept his wife’s research indicates his resolve with his individualistic desires and his ethical obligation to the collective. Unlike the gungho, flat, and prescribed heroes in narratives of the 1970s and even in the 1980s, Chŏng Chinu’s heroism derives from the
While the conflict appears to have been resolved and a harmonious conclusion is promised, this type of conclusion reinstates a patriarchal restoration contrived by the Party directives, whereby the family revolution is implicitly gendered. Chŏng Chinu compels Ch’ae Rim to confess his fraudulent misdeeds; he convinces the coal miner to quit drinking and to pursue his long-lost passion;he transforms Sŏkch’un into a “new man,” helping him to acquire the latest technological skills appropriate for the Party’s demands; and, most importantly, he undergoes his own Party–desired transformation, qualifying him as the hero of the narrative. Interestingly enough, Chŏng Chinu does not articulate the Party’s directives to the women—the narrative is about the transformation of the men.
However, there is yet an unresolved issue in the novel. The “end” of the novel does not fulfill its enclosure of the narrative. The end seems to resist (en)closure, or, at the very least, suspends the completion of the novel. The ending is forced and contrived with the thoughts of Chŏng Chinu leading the readers to believe that Sunhŭi and Sŏkch’un will compromise their differences and build the optimistic family with Sŏkch’un as the head of the family and Sunhŭi as the faithful housewife: “Chŏng Chinu looked at Honam and tried to appease his envious thoughts. Don’t worry child. Your parents will remarry. They may not have a wedding ceremony, but they will prepare a new family. It will be a spiritual wedding” (Paek 195). A “new family,” signifies one that is not built on individualism or self-centeredness but on the spiritual (
14Friend shows that the divorce proceedings are administrated by a judge of the municipal court. The judge represents the state, and the duty of the judge is to foster care to the people. 15The idea of “falling behind” was a common criticism against workers with “old ideologies.” In 1973, Kim Il Sung announced the Three Revolutions Team Members, whose duties were to articulate the Party’s technological and ideological demands. In 1975, Kim announced the national campaign Three Revolutions Red Flag Movement, which encouraged the entire nation to raise the Party’s ideological consciousness and promote technological development. The Workers’ Party of Korea promoted the slogan of “Three Revolutions,” including Sasang hyŏngmyŏng, “Ideological Revolution,” to make North Koreans faithful followers of the leader and the party; kisul hyŏngmyŏng, “Technological Revolution,” to liberate North Korean agricultural and industrial production from old-fashioned technology; and Munhwa hyŏngmyŏng, “Cultural Revolution,” to elevate the everyday life of North Koreans to a higher, more advanced cultural standard (Ryang 2002, 27). 16Kim Il Sung. “3 Tae hyŏngmyŏng ŭl him itge pŏryŏ sahoechuŭi kŏnsŏl ŭl tŏuk tagŏch’ija” [Let us put more effort into the construction of socialism by supporting the Three Revolutions]. Speech delivered in March 3, 1975. Kim Il Sung chŏjakchip 30 (1985): 112. 17Ch’ae Rim markedly presents a different type of villain from the villains of the past. Refer to Alzo David-West (2009, 21) and Kim Jong Il’s (2001) On the Art of the Cinema for a description of prototypical villains in literature. 18This type of characterization is not uncommon in many of Paek’s stories. In Life (1985), a doctor fails to “heal” his son’s academic problem and resorts to bribing the dean of the university to admit his son; in Servicemen (1979), a cadre member at a factory pushes for his son to go on an important business trip, but when the factory council suggests a more qualified worker, the cadre member struggles to overcome his ambitions for his son; and finally in After 60 Years (1982), a retiring manager fights to retain his position in order to salvage his social authority. It is clear in these examples that Paek’s narrative contents delve into the tumultuous psyche of individuals to open up universal problems that extend beyond the parameters of the Party’s imperatives.
IV. CH’AE SUNH?I: THE EVERLASTING IRONY OF THE STATE
Although the main conflict in
It is Sunhŭi who pleads for divorce, not for the purpose of disrupting the harmony of the state but simply because she cannot live with Sŏkch’un anymore (Paek 7). Her initial request for divorce derives from her incompatibility with her husband—her private affairs. But as soon as Chŏng Chinu decides to handle the case, it becomes a public affair, an affair of the state. Sunhŭi realizes her powerlessness over the law and that the law will not decide what is best for the individuals but what is best for the state: “As soon as she grabbed Honam and pulled him into her arms, Judge Chŏng Chinu reprimanded her like the way he did at his office. ‘Comrade Sunhŭi, let the child go.’ She realized that the law supported the welfare of her son more than her” (Paek 55). The law will certainly be more concerned over Honam not only because he is an innocent victim of rivaling parents but because he is the future of the state.19 In a previous divorce hearing, Chŏng Chinu sent a boy to his father’s custody for the boy’s future which was related to his physical and mental growth (Paek 17). Thus it is the state that “establishes” the child’s patriarchal identity, while the mother “raises” and “lets him go.”
This logic asserts that children need to be well fostered in order to pass from the family to the state in Hegelian terms. “The family attains completion in the
The law tries to reduce Sunhŭi to a mother, whose duty is to “let go” of what’s rightfully hers to the state like the mother in
Sunhŭi will be left without a job, family, her son, and, most importantly, her dignity as an individual. Her wretchedness derives not only from her deprivation of society but from her inevitable absorption into the very social order which she tried so hard to resist. Sunhŭi has nowhere to turn, no one to depend on—her best friend Ŭnmi constantly urges her to remain married; her director nearly fires her; Chŏng Chinu refuses to divorce the couple; and even her son seeks his father. Where can Sunhŭi find refuge?
Memories. While Chŏng Chinu asks Sŏkch’un to recall the romantic days to soften Sŏkch’un’s calloused feelings toward Sunhŭi, the judge never asks Sunhŭi to do the same. The narrative does not recount her side of the story. Her voice is not heard in the grand narrative of the patriarchs. Sŏkch’un’s story is told to reestablish his responsibility as the head of the family, where even the idea of memories serves the state. In many North Korean stories, memories function as the operative trope to reconstruct a new identity for the protagonist. Most of the memories would recall Kim Il Sung’s messianic deliverance of the nation from the arduous days of the colonial period or the traumatic moments of the Korean War. At other times, memories of Kim Il Sung visiting a factory or collective farm or how the workers have sacrificed their lives for the construction of the nation would determine the positive outcome of the individuals’ actions. However, Paek’s
Chŏng Chinu attempts to enclose Sunhŭi, to re-incorporate her into the social “norms” by reminding her of their tenth wedding anniversary, which is his method of constituting memory for her. The judge thinks that the memory of their anniversary will somehow move her. However, for Sunhŭi, memorializing her wedding anniversary is a public affair in sheep’s clothing. “Marriage is legally binding” are the words of Chŏng Chinu, insinuating that Sunhŭi’s marriage to Sŏkch’un irrefutably belongs to the state. Therefore, Chŏng Chinu feels justified in asking Sunhŭi if he could visit the family on that day:
Who can stop the law from entering into Sunhŭi’s house? Even on her wedding anniversary the state watches the couple through the gaze of Chŏng Chinu. The judge’s attempt to reinforce “norms” or “normality” into Sunhŭi’s life proves to be futile when she responds: “Those kinds of days are only meant for normal families” (Paek 165).
Normality, for Sunhŭi, means the end of her individuality, the
Instead, Sunhŭi’s only refuge is in
This is the only account of Sunhŭi’s private,
Sunhŭi’s last words in the novel are exchanged with her son when he, Sokch’un, and Chŏng Chinu come to the train station to welcome her back from her tour. After this encounter, Chŏng Chinu takes Honam to a park to leave Sokch’un and Sunhŭi alone. It is Chŏng Chinu’s hope to reignite the couple’s love for each other. The last line of the novel ends as such: “A family is where the love of humanity dwells and is the beautiful world where hope flourishes” (Paek 195). Will his hope be transferred to the stoic couple? Does this “family” also include Sunhŭi?
19Refer to Frederick Engels (2001, 139) in The Origins of the Family, Private Property and the State, where he says, “The care and education of the children becomes a public affair; society looks after all children alike, whether they are legitimate or not.”
North Korea as a whole underwent radical changes after 1967. “Being a crucial year, 1967 was when Kim Il Sung’s rule became indisputable, the ‘great leader’ (
One of the most efficient ways for the Party to control and educate the masses was by mobilizing a group of loyal cadre members (and the Three Revolutions team members) throughout the country. These cadre members would, then, crack down on and rectify the misconduct of the individuals who have antirevolutionary tendencies. On the surface level reading, Paek’s
What makes
However, the tale of Sunhŭi does not threaten the stability of community because the narrative is told mostly from Chŏng Chinu’s perspective. The criteria for a revolutionary novel are met in