Song Exploder - Book Exploder: Min Jin Lee - Pachinko

Episode Date: August 17, 2022

Min Jin Lee is the author of the best-selling novel Pachinko. She’s a Guggenheim Fellow, and the recipient of South Korea's Manhae Grand Prize for Literature. In Pachinko, she tells a sweeping, multi-generational story of a Korean family that moves to Japan. Pachinko is an international best-seller, named one of the best books of 2017 by the New York Times, the BBC, the New York Public Library, and more. In 2022, it was adapted into an Emmy-nominated television series on Apple TV+. In this episode, Min talks to Book Exploder host Susan Orlean about a passage from Chapter 4 of Pachinko: a pivotal scene that takes place in June 1932, in a small fishing village in Korea. For more, visit bookexploder.com/episodes/min-jin-lee.

This episode contains explicit language. You're listening to Book Exploder, where authors break down a passage from their work to show us how they write. I'm Rishi K. Sherway. And I'm Susan Orlean. Today, Susan's speaking with Minjin Lee, who wrote the novel, Pachinko, which came out in 2017. Minjin, Lee is a Guggenheim Fellow and the recipient of South Korea's Man Hay Grand Prize for literature. Pachinko is an international bestseller and was named one of the best books of 2017 by the New York Times, the BBC. the New York Public Library and more.

In 2022, it was adapted into an Emmy-nominated television series on Apple TV. This is a four-generation story, and I love a book that takes on a big sweeping epic look at a family. And it does that marvelous thing of talking about social conditions, and in this case, this enduring bias against Koreans in Japanese culture, but doing it through this very personal story. And it's very emotional. It's a, it's a, I cried in this book. I've had this idea in my head for 30 years.

I worked on it off and on for over 20. The idea for this book? For this book. So you began with this idea of a family saga. No. It was a political history. Wow. that's fascinating.

I was so pissed about the fact that the Koreans in Japan were treated like shit for 100 years. I was like, man, I am really irritated. And I learned about it when I was in college. And then I thought, I'm going to write something about that. In this episode, Susan and Min discuss a passage from Chapter 4 in Pichenko, a scene that takes place in June 1932 in a small fishing village in Korea. So tell me what was going on when you wrote this section. Well, I was thinking about falling in love.

And when you fall in love, very often it begins with a gaze. Very often, I'm not saying all the time, obviously. And the scene is about a love story, but the scene is really about feminism. For me, it's really about feminism. And also it's about cultural history. Like, how does patriarchy manifest itself? Can you set this passage up for us? What do we need to know about the book to understand what's going on in this section?

This section is the very beginning of the book. You have two characters. You have the main character, Sanja, but you also have Mrs. Jun and Ajima character. Ajima is kind of a, it's a very useful Korean word for everybody to know because it kind of means any married woman of any age, really, but mostly a little older. So she works at this market.

So it's Mrs. Jun and it's Sanda the main character. And this is the first time that Sanja really needs. notices Han Su, who functions as a romantic-slash-villain in this novel. And this is an incredibly important moment in the book, because this is the connection that sets everything in motion. Sanja looked up and saw the new man in the light-colored Western suit and white leather shoes. He was standing by the corrugated tin and wood offices with all the other seafood brokers, wearing an

off-white Panama hat like the actors and the movie posters. Kohansu stood out like an elegant bird with milky white plumage among the other men who were wearing dark clothes. He was looking hard at her, barely paying attention to the men speaking around him. So this is the moment. Yeah. This is a first time in her history when somebody like that notices her. And it's very important. And I think that sometimes if you think about the value of people in a society in a room, very often a person's value is not determined by what you know about that person, but it's what other people say. So I really had to have this third party, Mrs. Jun explained to her, that man who's looking at you, he's a dangerous man. He's a

powerful man. Yeah. Shameless man, how he stares. He's almost old enough to be your father. The seaweed ajima rolled her eyes because a man's rich. Doesn't give him the right to be so brazen with a nice girl from a good family. That unbroken stare is what her first image is, really, of him. And then she wonders, am I valuable because a person like that is looking at me? And then, of course, you have this important dialogue about what it means to be a woman, to be an object, and also a subject. You're becoming a woman now. So you should be told this. For a woman, the man you marry will determine the quality of your life completely. A good man is a decent life, and a bad man is a cursed life.

But no matter what, always expect suffering and just keep working hard. And I got that philosophy from all my interviews. So many women who were Korean and Korean Japanese told me how much we have to suffer in our lives because we have uteruses. And I remember thinking, as a Korean American woman, I don't want that. I don't want to suffer this much. And I don't want to expect it. And I wasn't a baby when people told me this. I was in my 30s, my late 30s actually.

And I remember thinking, like, what am I going to do with this idea, this philosophy, that life is suffering for women and how it's so determined by the partner that you have? And I thought I have to put it in here. But of course, I don't want to write sermons. I wanted to write something dramatic. So asking myself to, how do I intersect romantic love, feminist philosophy,

and then this historical aspect of how fish broking works, because I am making a capitalist comment, too, about people who get rich and who never have to work. The brokers at the market controlled the wholesale purchases of all the fish that went through there. Not only did they have the power to set the prices, they could punish any boat captain or fishermen by refusing to buy his catch. They also dealt with the Japanese officials who control the docks.

Everyone deferred to the brokers and few felt comfortable around them. Tell me about your field research. I mean, that really interests me. Well, I do some journalism, but it's really, really hard. The kind of journalism that I'm really interested in is narrative nonfiction, the stuff that you're doing. One of the first classes I ever took at Yale about writing, was a narrative nonfiction. So I went into the field and I try to go to all the places that are in the book.

I went to Osaka. I went to Kyoto. I was living in Tokyo. I went to Seoul. I went to Jeju. I try to meet as many people who are surviving to talk to them. I talked to their grandchildren. I talked to their parents. I also had to hire translators because very often I didn't know how to speak at that level of the languages. Did you just let the conversation go where it was going to go? Did you have a, were you looking for people who might serve as models for the characters in the book? So the Korean-Japanese people have been so screwed over for such a long time. They weren't really dying to talk to anybody. And they didn't know me.

And then I think, oh, it's a very painful thing to talk about your humiliation. So who wants to talk about losing, right? Like, because the Koreans did lose so many things. things. So what ended up happening is I was taken to a really fancy lunch. You know, we would go to one of the most expensive restaurants in Tokyo. I would bring a legal pad and a pen. And I was very casual about my question. So then I would ask something very simple where no one feels embarrassed about answering, like, oh, what's your name? Where did you go to elementary school? Tell me where you grew up. And then I'd write down a couple of these things. And then I would let the conversation flow.

Very often, I might meet, let's say, a Wall Street person who's Korean-Japanese, and he would say, I've never faced discrimination. Things were really great for the Korean-Japanese people. But then invariably, at like hour two, hour three of the meal, he would say, oh, I wasn't allowed to visit my friend's homes because I was Korean-Japanese. The girl that I dated dumped me and said we couldn't get married because I was Korean-Japanese. I couldn't rent an apartment because I'm Korean-Japanese. And then you think, like, oh, that's so interesting.

You talk to people and they say one thing, but then their anecdotes actually contradict their thesis statement. So that's happened so many times to me. I'm sure it's happened to you. I've just decided that you have to let people talk. You just have to keep letting the tape roll, and it takes a lot of time. We'll be right back with more after this. I want to ask you on a craft level, there's a lot of white imagery in the section. You've got Hanzu's white shoes, you refer to his milky white plumage. Kohansu stood out like an elegant bird with milky white plumage among the other men who were wearing dark clothes. There's the other reference to fishbrokers. The lodgers at the boarding

house spoke of them as arrogant interlopers who made all the profits from fishing, but kept the fish smell off their smooth white hands. You use a lot of color imagery. throughout the book. But in this section, the whiteness stood out to me, particularly with his white shoes, where you think, who would wear white shoes to a fish market? Only somebody with the arrogance of feeling they won't get dirty. Right. And also you can replace whatever does get dirty. So it's also an expression of power. If you buy something that's white leather, I kind of think, wow, you must really have money because you don't care about the ink stain or dirt or scratches. And Hansu's image comes from a real historical photograph.

Oh. So I found a real fishbroker who was wearing that outfit. And then when I saw it, I thought, wow, talk about flexing your power. When everybody else around him looks like some sort of gray shadow. And I thought, well, wouldn't it be interesting if my main character had that kind of authority, arrogance, and the capacity for potence, right? I also wanted to write about whiteness because in East Asian culture, colorism is such an important thing.

I mean, it's an important thing everywhere. But in East Asia, people spend an enormous amount of money trying to be as pale as possible, even now, because whiteness is universally, globally seen as something that denotes more beauty, more power. So I wanted to have both of those things in there. And this is, again, with the craftsman level, how do I get the imagery, point of view, tone, syntax, diction, all of those things? And also managed to send my message, which is, I don't think women should always suffer. I just don't. So that was my next question, which was, you know, we end this passage about a woman's life being endless work and suffering. No matter what.

But always expect suffering and just keep working hard. No one will take care of a poor woman, just ourselves. Clearly, you went into this book with a lot of very specific things that were really important to you to speak to. Absolutely. I think it is an act of kindness to tell a young person that seeking happiness isn't everything that there is suffering in life. Because then they'll expect it. They'll prepare for it. And when it comes, they'll know how to face it. So I do think there's something good about as a public service message, expect some suffering. So is this the result of multiple drafts, this section?

Oh, completely. Everything for me is really hard to do. I don't know how to write cleanly right away. I was a corporate lawyer for two years. It wasn't the right thing for me, but what I write, when I'm actually drafting, I'm really nice to myself. Like, I could have as much ice coffee as I want. That's great. I could break for chocolate.

Like, it's all good. And then when I edit, I become this hard-nosed corporate lawyer. Like, no, that's not going to work. I'm not taking it. That's a deal breaker. And it's both. those things, but I actually feel like with writing, you need to have both.

Yeah, that's really interesting. So much writing is the writer grappling with his or her own life and questions about life. Oh, my gosh, yeah. You know, how does that part of it work for you? So I'm 51. I've had a very serious illness, which I don't have anymore. And I think, well, how long do I have to live? Like, do I have five years?

do I have 50 years? I don't know. So shouldn't my projects reflect the worthiness of my attention? I mean, this is such an incredibly important topic to me, but also it's such an important top of Koreans around the world. And I thought if I got it wrong, it would be a terrible thing. And I got really depressed, really, really depressed while I was writing it because I kept in thinking, nobody cares. Most people have no interest in Asia. and at one point I thought, oh my God, I'm going to die, and I won't finish, and then that'll be a waste of my, I don't know, life. Writing novels is such a chancy, crazy endeavor. People aren't waiting for your book, not really. So when you write them, you have to really have a reason.

And for me, it's how do I integrate all of my deep interests, economics, politics, history, feminism? All of it has to be in there. but I also want people to read it. And now here's Minjin Lee, reading this passage from Pichinko. Sanja was buying seaweed from the coalman's wife who sold the best quality. The Ajima noticed that the new fish broker was staring at the boarding house girl. Shameless man, how he stares, he's almost old enough to be your father. The seaweed ajima rolled her eyes.

Just because a man's rich doesn't give him the right to be so brazen with a nice girl from a good family. Sanja looked up and saw the new man in the light-colored western suit and white leather shoes. He was standing by the corrugated tin and wood offices with all the other seafood brokers. Wearing an off-white Panama hat like the actors and the movie posters. Kohansu stood out like an elegant bird with milky white plumage among the other men who were wearing dark clothes. He was looking hard at her, barely paying attention to the men speaking around him. The brokers of the market controlled the wholesale purchases of all the fish that went through there. Not only did they have the power to set the prices, they could punish any boat captain or fishermen

by refusing to buy his catch. They also dealt with the Japanese officials who controlled the docks. Everyone deferred to the brokers and few felt comfortable around them. them. The brokers rarely mix socially outside their group. The lodgers at the boarding house spoke of them as arrogant interlopers who made all the profits from fishing, but kept the fish smell off their smooth white hands. Regardless, the fishermen had to stay on good terms with these men who had ready cash for purchases and then needed advance when the catch wasn't any good. A girl like you is bound to be noticed by some fancy man, but this one seems too sharp. He's a Jesuit native but lives in Osaka. I hear he can speak perfect Japanese. My husband said he was

smarter than all of them put together, but crafty. Ah, Amma, he's still looking at you. The seaweed ajama flushed red straight down to her collarbone. Sunja shook her head, not wanting to check. When the lodgers flirted with her, she ignored them and did her work, and she would behave no differently now. The ajima's at the market tended to exaggerate anyway. May I have the seaweed that my mother likes? Sanja feigned interest in the oblong piles of dried seaweed folded like fabric, separated in rows of varying quality and price. Remembering herself, the ajima blinked, then wrapped a large portion of seaweed for a sanja. The girl counted out the coins, then accepted the parcel with two hands. Your mother is taking care of how many lodgers now?

Six. From the corner of her eye, Sanja could see that the man was now talking to another broker, but still looking in her direction. She's very busy. Of course she is. Sanja. A woman's life is endless work and suffering. There is suffering and then more suffering.

It's better to expect. that you know. You're becoming a woman now, so you should be told this. For a woman, the man you marry will determine the quality of your life completely. A good man is a decent life and a bad man is a cursed life. But no matter what, always expect suffering and just keep working hard. No one will take care of a poor woman, just ourselves. Pachinko is available in hardcover, paperback, and audiobook. Min's website is minjin-lea.com. You can visit us at bookexploder.com for more information.

This episode of Book Exploder was produced by me, Theo Balcom, Julia Botero, and Susan. Nick's song is our production assistant. Raina Takahashi created the Book Exploder logo. Our episode artwork is by Paula Jackson. and I made the show's theme music. Book Exploder is a proud member of Radiotopia from PRX. A network of independent, listener-supported, artist-owned podcasts. Find out more at Radiotopia.fm.

I'm Rishi-K. Shirway. And I'm Susan Orlean. Thanks for listening.