To be clear, I did thoroughly enjoy it and it is a page-turner. However, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the book was heavily edited to appeal to a larger audience. In a few place, Lee's writing does shine, but these moments are thinly dispersed. On a different level, I was fascinated about the historical details of the 20th century Korean / Japanese relationship. Being half Korean born just before the 80s, some of the questions towards the end of the book did resonate with me - of which the pachinko game is an apt metaphor.
Loooved this. The sprawling timeline, the way the language and mood of the characters evolved to match the more modern settings and sensibilities. The narration shifted perspectives so seamlessly. I was never confused about whose perspective we were getting even amongst a scene with multiple characters. In the first couple chapters, the cast evolved so quickly that I didn’t think I’d care about anyone by the end, but that is not the case. I’ll think about these characters for a long time.
The first third was easily engrossing. It was refreshing to learn about the history of Ikuno and about the Korean diaspora in Japan. The formula of family sagas is difficult to escape though. The older generations stoically live through readable hardship, while the younger generation is spoiled and ungrateful. I was actually expecting the youngest generation here to end up in America and to experience new discriminations, but the United States is maintained as a distant promised land. The novel holds the ideology too of work and wealth as virtue with no compunctions for example about swindling an old lady out of her home—and I nearly resented having to read through a banker bro poker game. Why are all the protagonists of the younger generation men? Both the narrator and the characters examine the structures of racism but none confront the misogyny, and the women who are granted long lives …
The first third was easily engrossing. It was refreshing to learn about the history of Ikuno and about the Korean diaspora in Japan. The formula of family sagas is difficult to escape though. The older generations stoically live through readable hardship, while the younger generation is spoiled and ungrateful. I was actually expecting the youngest generation here to end up in America and to experience new discriminations, but the United States is maintained as a distant promised land. The novel holds the ideology too of work and wealth as virtue with no compunctions for example about swindling an old lady out of her home—and I nearly resented having to read through a banker bro poker game. Why are all the protagonists of the younger generation men? Both the narrator and the characters examine the structures of racism but none confront the misogyny, and the women who are granted long lives surrounded by devoted family members accept their lot as one to suffer—confines that are vocalised repeatedly across 470 pages.
Incidentally, if Phoebe and her disapproval of aspects of Japan were to be written more roundedly, the most salient affliction of living in Japan as a woman and expat is the omnipresence of pickup artist bullshittery and anti-feminist pageantry.
