What to Read if You Want to Know More About North Korea - The New York Times
BOOK REVIEW | ESSAY
What to Read if You Want to
Know More About North Korea
By NICHOLAS KRISTOF JAN. 1, 2018
North Korea may be the most secretive and totalitarian country in the world, as
well as the wackiest. As a result, it inspires some of the best fiction and nonfiction,
so the upside of the risk of nuclear war is an excuse to dip into literature that offers
glimpses of this other world — and some insights into how to deal with it.
Thousands of North Koreans have fled their homeland since the famine of the
late 1990s, and many are writing memoirs recounting their daily lives and
extraordinary escapes. A leading example is IN ORDER TO LIVE: A North
Korean Girl’s Journey to Freedom (Penguin, paper, $17) by Yeonmi Park,
with Maryanne Vollers. Park is a young woman whose father was a cigarette
smuggler and black market trader. As a girl, she believed in the regime (as did her
mother), for life was steeped in propaganda and anti-Americanism. Even in her
math class, “a typical problem would go like this: ‘If you kill one American bastard
and your comrade kills two, how many dead American bastards do you have?’”
What opened Park’s eyes was in part a pirated copy of the film “Titanic.” The
government tries hard to ban any foreign television, internet or even music, and
North Korean radios, which don’t have dials, can receive only local stations. But
the black market fills the gap, with handymen who will tweak your radio to get
Chinese stations, and with illegal thumb drives full of South Korean soap operas.
I’m among those who argue that we in the West should do more to support
this kind of smuggling, because it’s a way to sow dissatisfaction. Indeed, what
moved Park was the love story in “Titanic”: “I was amazed that Leonardo DiCaprio
and Kate Winslet were willing to die for love, not just for the regime, as we were.
The idea that people could choose their own destinies fascinated me. This pirated
Hollywood movie gave me my first small taste of freedom.”
In the end, Park’s father was arrested for smuggling, and the family’s life
collapsed. Park and her sister went hungry and had to drop out of school, and she
survived eating insects and wild plants.
So at age 13, Park and her mother crossed illegally into China — and immediately
into the hands of human traffickers who were as scary as the North Korean secret
police. They raped her mother and eventually Park as well, and both struggled in
the netherworld in which North Koreans are stuck in China — because the Chinese
authorities regularly detain them and send them home to face prison camp. Park
and her mother were lucky, finally managing to sneak into Mongolia and then on
to South Korea.
Another powerful memoir is THE GIRL WITH SEVEN NAMES: A North
Korean Defector’s Story (William Collins, paper, $15.99) by Hyeonseo
Lee, with David John. She is from Hyesan, the same town as Park. It’s an area on
the Chinese border where smuggling is rampant, where people know a bit about
the outside world and where disaffection, consequently, is greater than average.
Still, Lee’s home, like every home, had portraits of the country’s first two
leaders, Kim Il-sung and his son, Kim Jong-il, on the wall. (The grandson now in
power, Kim Jong-un, hasn’t yet made his portrait ubiquitous.) Lee begins her story
recounting how her father dashed into the family home as it was burning to rescue
not family valuables but rather the portraits of the first leaders. There’s an entire
genre of heroic propaganda stories in North Korea of people risking their lives to
save such portraits.
Like other kids, Lee grew up in an environment of formal reverence for the
Kim dynasty. At supper she would say a kind of grace — to “Respected Father
Leader Kim Il-sung” — before picking up her chopsticks.
“Everything we learned about Americans was negative,” she writes. “In
cartoons, they were snarling jackals. In the propaganda posters they were as thin
as sticks with hook noses and blond hair. We were told they smelled bad. They had
turned South Korea into a ‘hell on earth’ and were maintaining a puppet
government there. The teachers never missed an opportunity to remind us of their
villainy.
“‘If you meet a Yankee bastard on the street and he offers you candy, do not
take it!’ one teacher warned us, wagging a finger in the air. ‘If you do, he’ll claim
North Korean children are beggars. Be on your guard if he asks you anything, even
the most innocent questions.’”
Hmm. No wonder my attempts at interviewing North Korean kids have never
been very fruitful.
Lee escaped to China at age 17 and started a new life in Shanghai but remained
in touch with her family. One day her mom called from North Korea. “I’ve got a few
kilos of ice,” or crystal meth, she said, and she asked for Lee’s help in selling it in
China. “In her world, the law was upside down,” Lee says, explaining how
corruption and cynicism had shredded the social fabric of North Korea. “People
had to break the law to live.”
It’s fair to wonder how accurate these books are, for there’s some incentive
when selling a memoir to embellish adventures. I don’t know, and in the case of “In
Order to Live,” skeptics have noted inconsistencies in the stories and raised
legitimate questions.
So how did North Korea come to be the most bizarre country in the world? For
the history, one can’t do better than Bradley K. Martin’s magisterial UNDER THE
LOVING CARE OF THE FATHERLY LEADER: North Korea and the Kim
Dynasty (St. Martin’s Griffin, paper, $29.99). Martin recounts how a minor
anti-Japanese guerrilla leader named Kim Il-sung came to be installed by the
Russians as leader of the half of the Korean peninsula they controlled after World
War II. Martin discovers that Kim’s father was a Christian and a church organist,
and Kim himself attended church for a time. That didn’t last, and Kim later banned
pretty much all religion — though he became something of a god himself, quite a
trick for an atheist. But do North Koreans really believe in this “religion”?
Judging from defectors I’ve interviewed and much of the literature on North
Korea, many do — especially older people, farmers and those farther from the
North Korean border. That’s partly a tribute to the country’s shameless
propaganda, which B.R. Myers explores in his interesting book, THE CLEANEST
RACE: How North Koreans See Themselves — And Why It Matters
(Melville House, paper, $16). He notes that North Korea produced a poster
showing a Christian missionary murdering a Korean child and calling for “revenge
against the Yankee vampires” — at the same time that the United States was the
country’s single largest donor of humanitarian aid. Myers argues that North
Koreans have focused on what he calls “race-based paranoid nationalism,”
including bizarre ideas about how Koreans are “the cleanest race” — hence the title
— bullied and persecuted by outsiders.
For a more sympathetic view of North Korea’s emergence, check out various
books by Bruce Cumings, a University of Chicago historian, like KOREA’S
PLACE IN THE SUN: A Modern History (W.W. Norton, paper, $19.95).
Cumings argues that North Korea is to some degree a genuine expression of
Korean nationalism. I think Cumings is nuts when he says, “it is Americans who
bear the lion’s share of the responsibility” for the division of the Korean peninsula.
But his work is worth reading — unless you have high blood pressure, in which case
consult a physician first.
Whatever the uncertainties about the accuracy of recent North Korean
memoirs, it’s absolutely clear that some stories about North Korea are fabricated —
because they’re fiction. Today’s political crisis with Pyongyang is a great excuse to
read Adam Johnson’s THE ORPHAN MASTER’S SON (Random House,
paper, $17), which won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2013. Johnson tells the
story of a military man turned prisoner turned celebrity turned villain, dealing for
a while with utterly confused American visitors — an account so implausible and
bizarre that it’s a perfect narrative for North Korea.
The other fiction that I’d recommend is the Inspector O series by James
Church, the pseudonym of a well-respected Western intelligence expert on North
Korea. Inspector O is a North Korean police officer who investigates murders, a
bank robbery and various other offenses, periodically dealing with foreigners and
turning down chances to defect.
Inspector O is a complex, nuanced figure who understands that the regime he
serves is corrupt, brutal and mendacious, but he remains loyal. That’s because he is
a deeply patriotic and nationalistic Korean, and he resents the patronizing scorn of
bullying Westerners. I think many North Korean officials today are an echo of the
conflicted nationalist Inspector O.
Nicholas Kristof is an Op-Ed columnist for The Times.
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A version of this review appears in print on January 7, 2018, on Page BR18 of the
Sunday Book Review with the headline: Reading North Korea.
© 2018 The New York Times Company
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