Brief Explanation
Pachinko is a book I first read over last summer. It was one gifted to me by an uncle whom I was visiting in Boston. Knowing I loved to read and having enjoyed the book himself, he gave it to me in hopes that I’d find not only inspiration, but connection. In this, Pachinko is both uniquely unrelatable, yet such a common experience for many across the world. It is a family saga, depicting the lives of nearly 3 generations of a complex, intricate family whose history spanned multiple countries. It grapples with the immigrant experience: one troubled by many hardships, and often loneliness. A girl named Sunja lives in Yeongdo, Korea, in the early 1900s— a time where Japan’s annexation was greatly weakening the nation. She meets a man and has his child, which excites her, for he’s a rich Korean with Japanese connections, and could provide a stable life for her (very different from the insignificant one she lived in her small fishing village). But when she discovers that the man already has a wife and hopes only to keep her as mistress, Sunja chooses to salvage her dignity and leaves him. With a strange turn of events, she ends up marrying a Protestant minister named Baek Isak, an ill but kind man that sees the good within her. She goes along with him to live in Japan, yearning for a better life… but this is where the struggles become only more obvious. Life in Japan as a Korean at the time could be described as despicable; one was treated as a lower race, and as such, created an interesting mix of emotions in the novel. Japan provided Sunja and the later generations of her family opportunity, but continuously insulted their Korean identity. Sunja’s children were stuck in the middle, unable to decide whether to be Korean or Japanese, and this exploration of national identity, an integral part of the immigrant experience, was emphasized heavily. Beginning with their journey to Japan, we see the development of Sunja and Isak’s family as they attempt to not lose themselves to life’s hurdles, portraying a painfully realistic image of life.
Review
One of the things I loved most about Pachinko was the character relationships. The nuanced relationship between Sunja and Isak, as they married as essentially strangers, yet got to know each other in a way that normal relationships do not allow. They saw one another as godlike figures, a shining light in their otherwise opportuneless and diseased lives. Lee wrote in such a way where the reader could genuinely feel the deep seated admiration that the couple had for each other, and the uniqueness of their relationship really stood out to me. Furthermore, the nuanced approach towards society was refreshing, as this story was never truly a happy ending—more often than not it ended bittersweetly, but this realistic portrayal of life allowed room for the characters to make mistakes and feel human. ‘Bad’ characters weren’t truly bad because they did good things, but ‘good’ characters weren’t described to be all that great either. This neutral perspective meant that the reader simply appreciated the characters for what they were and not what they could, or couldn’t be. Judgement was limited, because they were so realistically written that it seemed impossible to judge by such blanket statements. I seriously admire this about Lee’s writing, as it doesn’t seek to appeal towards tropes of good and bad, but shows both the flaws and beauty of life and its people. In my opinion, this lets the reader connect more deeply with the characters. I also loved how motherhood was portrayed, as well as the discussions of religion: being stuck between not quite believing, yet seeking to believe simultaneously, for the sake of believing. The writing, objectively, wasn’t the best thing I’ve ever read, but the simple yet descriptive imagery keeps you hooked. The descriptions of settings and the atmosphere that was created helped to accentuate the themes of the book, and made everything seem all the more real. To conclude: Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko is one of a kind masterpiece, depicting the endless struggle of life, but in an optimistic way where you can’t help but want to keep living: “there could be only a few winners, and a lot of losers. And yet we played on, because we had hope that we might be the lucky ones”. This quote reflects the hope of a chance of happiness that is described by the title of the novel, as pachinko is a Japanese gambling arcade game (which also plays a big role in the lives of the characters) that cleverly pulls the book’s themes together.
