We review the phenomenal sophomore novel by Min Jin Lee, released in 2017 that fast became a literary sensation, nominated for the National Book Award amongst others. Here, we explore the staying power of Pachinko and why it is a novel that remains – and will remain – worthy of attention.
Pick up a copy of Pachinko here.
Min Jin Lee’s sophomore novel is a masterpiece of intricate storytelling – it’s a universal story of family, love and faith – outlining the story of one Korean family. The story is divided into three parts. In Book 1 – Gohyang/Hometown (1910-1933), Lee begins the story in Busan, Korea with the marriage between Hoonie (a boy born with a cleft palate and twisted foot) and his marriage to Yangjin, against the background of the Japanese occupation of Korea. Their daughter Sunja is then the focus of the main part of this book, following the death of Hoonie. The girl begins an affair with Koh Hansu – an older mysterious gentleman, who saves her from a gang. She idolises Hansu, before falling pregnant and only then facing the realisation that he is married. Baek Isaak, a Protestant minister, offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. Moving to Osaka with Baek, the young couple move in with Isaak’s brother Yoseb and wife Kyunghee, before giving birth to Noa. Book 2 – Homeland (1939-1962), details the family’s life in Japan after the breakout of the second world war. The couple now have two sons – Noa and Mozasu – who are drastically different, the former is studious and aims to go to university and Mosazu having dropped out of school begins work at a pachinko parlour. Baek Isaak dies having been imprisoned for failing to worship the Emperor and later it is revealed that much of the good fortune of the family – escaping the most severe bombings and finding a job that pays Sunja well – has been engineered by Hansu. Fatefully, Noa comes to discover his paternity and becomes estranged from the family, leaving them and his education behind. The final book three – Pachinko (1962-1969) deals with the lives of Sunja and her sons – Sunja tracks Noa down but not long after he commits suicide, Mozasu gains a small fortune owning pachinko parlours and his son Solomon moves to America for further education. This is the barebones of the story, yet this grossly simplifies Pachinko – a book that is stunningly intricate and well-crafted.
It’s a powerful work that teaches you as much about Korean-Japanese relations as any long-form history, getting under the skin of racism and prejudice that will be eye-opening to many readers. Clearly, Lee based the novel on an extraordinary amount of close research in order to bring the story to life with detail, from the difficulty that Solomon experiences with his girlfriend seeing him as ‘Korean’ rather than himself and the complications involved with racial identity to Noa hiding his race in order to gain a job and generally where the Koreans are treated as second-class citizens by the Japanese. Layered upon this are lines of gender identities, where Yoseb seeks to prevent the women of his household from having an independent career.
The story is incredibly tender and touching – there is so much love between the members of the family that bonds them even during the hardships they undergo. Sunja’s love for her sons and Kyunghee is paramountly clear. The women in the story are incredible sources of strength, acting as the real backbones to the family. Min Jin Lee’s characterisation is phenomenal, giving intense colour to every person in the story. It really is an incredible work of literature that has the ability to provide an eye-opening look into Japanese-Korean race relations, familial love and faith in all its forms.
