Korean Quarterly

Giving Voice to the Korean American Community

Joan Thompson

A “what if” history

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Begin the World Over ~ By Kung Li Sun

(A K Press, Chico (CA), 2022, ISBN #9781849354721)

Review by Joan Thompson (Spring 2024)

What might have happened if American slaves, Native Americans, and Caribbean slaves had all revolted against the colonizers as one, rather than separately?  This is the question that author Kung Li Sun explores in Begin the World Over, a fictionalized alternative history.  The novel is set at the time of the Haitian Revolution (1791-1804) and is a lively dive into this central question, making use of strong description and dialogue.

In the Author’s Note, Sun writes about the history of revolts, noting that they “happened in clusters” and states that the novel is “counterfactual fiction.” In a novel that is peopled largely by historical figures, Sun undercuts the typical disclaimer at the beginning of novels by writing “[a]ny resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is intentional.”

The novel opens with James Hemings delivering a dinner invitation from his master Thomas Jefferson to the French ambassador. During the trip through the streets of Philadelphia, he meets Denmark Vesey, a real figure in history, who led a slave revolt in 1811. Vesey’s conversation with Ambassador Genet about the slave revolt in Saint-Domingue (present-day Haiti) and Vesey’s hope for its spread to other groups of enslaved people also reveals the attraction between Hemings and Vesey. When Vesey tries to convince Hemings to sail with him to Saint-Domingue and join his revolt, Hemings declines. However after drinking too much, Hemings finds himself on the ship and on the way to Saint-Domingue; the ship is captained by a fierce Asian woman named Mai.

Vesey hopes to get other Caribbean nations to join the slave revolt. In Le Cap’s harbor, those fleeing the burning city bid for berths on the ship.  The last one goes to Romaine the Prophetess (another real historical figure) who was a non-binary plantation owner, slave revolt leader, and devotee of the Virgin Mary.  When the ship docks in New Orleans, Hemings decides to stay there temporarily, spending the first night in a horse stall.  While in Thomas Jefferson’s household, Hemings was trained as a cook in Paris; he decides he use his skills in New Orleans to try to make enough money to free his mother and sister.

Romaine also stays in New Orleans and befriends Mary, a runaway slave belonging to Andrew Jackson. A jockey who raced Jackson’s favorite horse, Mary escaped after he sold her twin sister. Mary has vowed to rescue her sister and seek revenge and is eager to join the revolt Vesey has in mind.

Soon they are joined in the stable by Red Eagle, historically known as William Wetherford. A Muskogee Creek Native American whose father was white, Red Eagle was a leader of the Red Sticks in their war against the U.S. and against other natives who supported it. The threat to his people and their towns leads Red Eagle, who is also gender fluid, to align with Vesey’s plan.

When Red Cloud locates Mary’s sister on the Charleston plantation of Charles Pinckney (a signer of the Constitution, slave-holding planter, and later governor) Mary knows she must go to rescue her sister. Hemings is reluctant, but word of his restaurant has spread, and he is offered a commission to cook a banquet for wealthy planters and their wives gathering for Race Week. The group insists he take the commission.

At Pinckney’s plantation, they meet Ellison, an enslaved driver on the plantation.  He has been organizing drivers on other plantations who are anxious to rebel. He argues with Romaine, whose experience in Saint-Domingue tells her they are not ready. When Ellison’s son is killed in a mill accident and Pinckney responds cruelly, there is no holding Mary back from revenge. The group flees approaching militias back to Muskogee Creek country where Hemings is still torn as to whether he should stay in order to fight Andrew Jackson’s army and to prepare for liberating plantations.

As Red Eagle leads the others toward the Creek towns, they work to raise an army along the way. Hickory Grounds becomes the site for training the revolting slaves for battle, which raises controversy among the Muskogee who worry this will inflame encroaching Americans and threaten their way of life. However, Red Eagle’s mother and Muskogee leader Sehoy support this work. Vesey, meanwhile, leaves to raise a navy.  Much of the novel’s tension is tied to whether this new army can defeat Andrew Jackson and then succeed in meeting Vesey’s navy in Charleston to revolt against the planters.

During the successful Haitian Revolution, southern plantation owners feared that the success of this slave rebellion would cause other rebellions to spread to their plantations. In his 2021 book, How the Word is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America, Clint Smith explores the increased violence slaves endured because of this fear.  For example, in Louisiana, plantation owners displayed rebellious slaves’ heads on pikes as a reminder of the power they wielded.

Sun mines this fear in Begin the World Over,  and adds to this alternate history that the Muskogee Creek community was of those that were fearful of westward expansion. It turns the violence back on those who historically were the perpetrators. The violence in Sun’s novel can shock at times, but is it realistic of the type of violence experienced historically by slaves who turned against the owners and their cruelty.

Additionally, Sun’s turning of history on its head is fast paced, with intriguing characters.  Both the historical figures and the fictional ones have lives and relationships that make for an action-packed and thought-provoking read. The author’s exploration of the characters’ gender fluidity and desires adds to the novel. This is especially true in the story of Roman becoming Romaine after being visited by the Virgin Mary, transported to Calvary, and experiencing an Easter story that ties back to the Haitian Revolution. The website for Mesa Refuge, where the author had a writing residence, notes that Sun lives on the Gulf Coast and was raised in the South. Sun (who uses he, she, and they pronouns) is a former attorney but now works as a trainer for activists, including those working with the undocumented. Sun intends to make Begin the World Over the first installment of a trilogy. Given the excellent pacing and intriguing revision of history in this novel, seeing where these revolutionaries go next will be worth the wait.

Revisiting a classic American play

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Insightful Death of a Salesman staging uses an Asian American cast | By Joan Thompson (Fall 2022)

Greg Watanabe (right) as Willy in Theater 45 and Theater Mu’s production of Death of a Salesman.

Death of a Salesman: A Staged Reading, by Arthur Miller
(Produced by Theater 45 and Theater Mu, Conn Theater, Minneapolis, July 18, 2022)

Review by Joan Thompson

“The acting was so good that I kept forgetting I was watching a staged reading instead of a full production, said a theatergoer to Seth Patterson, Theater 45 founder and co-artistic director, following the July 18 staged reading of Arthur Miller’ s Death of a Salesman at the Conn Theater in Minneapolis.

The one-night-only staged reading was engaging, but also historic, since it may have been the first and only time in North America that Asian Americans were staged as the members of the famous Loman family, who tragically pursue the American Dream.

The production was a collaboration between Theater 45 and Theater Mu.  Patterson, who also works for Plymouth Congregational Church in Minneapolis as the minister for spiritual formation and theater, said he and Eric Sharp know of no other North American production featuring Asian American actors as the Lomans. 

Greg Watanabe, who played Willy Loman in this production, also played the character of the son, Biff Loman, in a 1994 Singapore production.  Patterson also mentioned there is a new all-African American Broadway production of the play, set to open this September.

Eric Sharp, a Twin Cities based director, producer, actor, and writer, originally talked to Patterson about a possible collaboration with Theater 45 to do this one-night staged reading.  Sharp had long been interested in Death of a Salesman but thought “that the roles of Willy, Linda, Biff and Hap were acting challenges that Asian Americans would simply never be given the opportunity to tackle.” 

Sharp thought about flipping that script earlier this year when Sharp and Watanabe were both acting in Cambodian Rock Band (KQ review here), a Jungle Theater and Theater Mu co-production.  Sharp said he  “wanted to strike while the iron was hot, by taking full advantage of having a respected Broadway veteran in town, and casting the rest of the piece around Greg as Willy.”

Patterson responded to Sharp’s idea and said he was interested in a new Theater Mu collaboration of the classic play. One of Theater 45’s tenets is “not to do anything alone,” Patterson said.  Part of the Theater 45 mission is to explore the spiritual side of human existence, whether religious or not, according to its website.  “For this reason, Theater 45 productions always open with a ritual,” he said.

Patterson mentioned the issue of achieving competitive pay for BIPOC artists as a justice issue “as they are often asked to perform for free or a low amount.” Being housed and funded by a church allows Theater 45 to pay actors fairly.

Both saw the collaboration as fitting the two theaters’ missions. Sharp is proud of Theater Mu’s contributions to Asian American theater throughout its thirty years. However, he also sees roles such as the Lomans for Asian American theater professionals as “just as much our inheritance as they are for other groups of actors.”

Front Row Left to Right: Katie Bradley, Adelin Phelps, Christopher Thomas Pow, Greg Watanabe, Rich Remedios, Kevin Fanshaw, Ajah Williams
Back Row Left to Right: Rick Shiomi, Seth Patterson, Lily Tung Crystal, Eric Sharp, Olivia Wilusz.

In Death of a Salesman, classic themes play out of how Americans try and frequently fail to achieve success and happiness while trapped in a changing and cruel capitalistic culture. Some of the members of the Loman family have given up hope of career success. The central character of Willy lives by his vision of amassing great wealth and living in luxury, but in reality, he is an unsuccessful salesman and in the course of the play, he is fired from his job. A central struggle of the story is Willy’s attempt to live within this contradiction of fantasy and reality; in the end, it destroys him.  

Patterson said he thought about what it means to have “Willy Loman played by a Japanese American in a play that premiered less than two years after the last Japanese incarceration camp closed.”  That idea is the kind of question they try to ask at his church, through its classes and justice initiatives, he added. Patterson mentioned the juxtaposition of this timing at the beginning of the performance. Sharp said Patterson’s explanation “served as a salient mile marker for audience members to place themselves in the history of this country.”

As the collaboration developed, Sharp hired director Rich Remedios, and did the casting; he also served as graphic designer for the publicity.  Artistic direction involved both companies: Patterson and Ashawnti Sakina Ford of Theater 45 and Lily Tung Crystal of Theater Mu. 

Patterson also researched possible rituals. Plymouth member Lani Bennet helped him to borrow the origami crane set backdrop. She also connected him with Todd Tsuchiya who provided ideas for a ritual and also loaned a Kansho bell.

At the beginning of the performance, Sharp explained that the 7-5-3 rhythm pattern used “often signals the start of a ritual.” The bell is rung to encourage the audience to “arrive in the space, breath and become present with one another,” he said.  Rick Shiomi, who played Uncle Ben, rang the bell to open the staged reading. Shiomi co-founded Theater Mu and served as its artistic director. He also was the founder of  the taiko drumming group Mu Daiko.

Greg Watanabe’s powerful performance as Willy Loman underscored the aging character’s broken dreams and his forced bravado.  As Linda, Lily Tung Crystal strongly evoked Linda’s worries about her husband’s mental health, her desire to heal the rift between Biff and his father, and her attempts to keep the household functioning despite knowing her husband’s various failings. 

Eric Sharp, as Biff, moved easily between the adult son searching the West for his place in life and the teen who adores his father and then has his idol smashed.  Christopher Thomas Pow, as Happy, portrayed a son who has inherited all of his father’s failings, but did not want to engage with his mother’s concerns. 

In the triple roles of Bernard, Howard, and Stanley, Kevin Fanshaw moved effortlessly among characters of varying ages, experience, and social standing.  Katie Bradley anchored the audience with stage direction that moved the audience from present to memory and then to imaginings.

Sharp noted that the casting of the Loman family was a “practice within a Pan-Asian theatre aesthetic” in its mix of ethnic Japanese, Korean, and Chinese actors.  He also pointed out the importance of considering a play’s content to cast a show respectfully. 

Patterson mentioned how “who tells the story changes it.” Factoring systemic racism into Miller’s famous play makes the question shift, he said. He gave an example of how Willy comments to Charley (played by Patterson) that he thinks people are talking about him and laughing at him behind his back.  Patterson noted that in the recent Mu/45 production, Willy’s fears could be traced to his failing career and mental health, but also to how others see him as an Asian American salesman. 

As Sharp noted, “we did not need to change a single word of the play to make Miller’s words fit the mid-20th century experience of Asians in this country …Miller could just as easily have been talking about the Asian American experience in the early ‘90s, or 2022 for that matter.”

In its dark exploration of the American Dream, Death of a Salesman raises many questions about how opportunity is key to success.  Written long after the closing of the American West, the play repeatedly evokes the idea of the frontier and the temptation of achieving success in a new place with greater opportunities.  Willy, in his waking-dream conversations with the deceased Uncle Ben, wonders if he could have found wealth if he had gone to Alaska.  Willy’s son Biff also believes in the promise of the frontier – he wanders the western states, taking a series of jobs that he hopes will lead to success, in part to make his father proud despite Biff’s disillusionment with him.

This content adds a certain irony to a play, which as Sharp noted, brought the playwright Miller immediate success at a time when “Japanese American ‘Arthur Millers’ . . .never had a chance to express themselves because they were forced to live in horse stalls in the middle of a desert.”  In thinking about the injustice of who has been allowed to create art in this country’s history, Sharp said he hoped the “reading was able to shed even a little light on this particular inequity . . .[to] help the discourse moving forward.”

Patterson said he thinks casting the Lomans as Asian Americans changed the dynamic for BIPOC audience members as well, and that he was pleased with the diverse audience for the reading.  It is important, he said, that the mostly white space of a church can draw a BIPOC audience to a production, and that the audience can “show up in white space and not be hurt,” but rather see themselves and their concerns reflected on the stage.

Sharp mentioned that the mission of New York’s National Asian American Theater Company is to produce well-known plays from both the American and English canon, and that it is similar “to what we aimed to accomplish with our reading: that the insistence of seeing Asian people as fully-realized human beings can happen onstage, in real time, and that this proposition need not be an artistic compromise.  On the contrary, it is this intentional approach that makes the play really sing.” 

A dive into Cambodian history with music

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Cambodian Rock Band depicts intergenerational trauma in moving father-daughter story | By Joan Thompson (Summer 2022)

Cambodian Rock Band featuring (left to right) Mayda Miller, Christopher T. Pow, Shawn Mouacheupao, Greg Watanabe, Eric Sharp. Photo by Rich Ryan

Cambodian Rock Band, by Lauren Yee
(Directed by Lily Tung Crystal, Co-produced by Jungle Theater and Theater Mu, June 11- July 31, Jungle Theater, Minneapolis )

The co-production of Cambodian Rock Band by Jungle Theater and Theater Mu provides a highlight for summer theatergoers.  Under the direction of Lily Tung Crystal, the narrative moves effortlessly between 21st century Cambodia and the Cambodia of the 1970s, both before and during the reign of Pol Pot, leader of the Khmer Rouge rebels that overthrew the republic in 1975.

Cambodian Rock Band featuring (center) Eric Sharp, (on left) Christopher Thomas Pow, Mayda Miller, (right) Shawn Mouacheupao. Photo by Rich Ryan

When Chum (Greg Watanabe) returns to Cambodia, he hopes to talk his daughter Neary (Danielle Troiano) into giving up her research work for a non-governmental organization that is collecting information for the prosecution of Khmer Rouge leaders. One of the leaders under scrutiny is  Duch (Eric Sharp). Chum wants Neary to come home for law school.  Neary, however, has learned of an eighth prisoner who survived S-21, the notorious political prison, and she is intent to find him. 

Initially, Neary worries that her father will learn about her boyfriend Ted (Christopher Thomas Pow), but as the story of Chum’s life before and during the genocide unfolds, their father-daughter relationship deepens, and the story delves into the theme of intergenerational trauma.  In the powerful second act, Chum relives his experience of living through the Khmer Rouge  genocidal campaign that targeted its perceived political opponents and racial minorities. These scenes show the choices he and others made when society fell apart, and the power of resilience in those who survived.

(From left to right): Greg Watanabe, Mayda Miller, Christopher Thomas Pow, Danielle Troiano, Shawn Mouacheupao. Photo by Rich Ryan

Scenes in the play are interspersed with appearances by a rock band, Cyclos, playing the music of the Cambodian rock band Dengue Fever and the (more vintage) songs of Cambodian rock musicians popular in the early ‘70s. The band’s lead singer Sothea (played by Troiano) is in a relationship with guitarist Leng (played by Pow).  Chum (played by Watanabe) is the bass player.  Other members include keyboardist Pou (played by Mayda Miller) and drummer Rom (played by Shawn Mouacheupao). 

In one significant scene, set in a moment when the group knows the Khmer Rouge rebels are approaching, the band records a tape and talks over what each will do in the future as musicians, writers, artists, and intellectuals all become enemies of the state.  Throughout the story, strong musicianship and smooth transitions between rock sequences and dramatic scenes highlight the versatility of the cast.

Mina Kinukawa’s scenic and projection design are especially effective in bridging the years between events and showing relationships of past to present.  The rock band appears on a split stage that moves off into the wings after songs are performed, creating smooth shifts to a hotel room, a spa, a karaoke bar, and S-21.  Projected images allow Duch in his role as emcee, to underscore the history of rock music in Cambodia.  This strategy highlights how the former Khmer Rouge leaders continued to be part of Cambodian life after the genocide.  It also emphasizes the importance of music, particularly in the scenes of S-21, where Cham and Leng meet again.

Costume designer Khamphian Vang’s ‘70s rock band apparel adds to Cyclos’ authenticity and is important as band members seamlessly become other characters in the production. Music Director Mandric Tan’s experience as a producer also adds to the excellence of the music, which is central to the production.

Theater Mu recommends this production for ages 16 and above because of adult content including depictions of torture and other violence.  The Jungle provides a space in the lobby for anyone needing some time away from the play.

Excellent acting, powerful rock, and strong production values make Cambodian Rock Band a must-see. 

The play runs at the Jungle Theater through July 31.  For tickets, visit: https://www.theatermu.org/cambodian-rock-band

A quiet novel of desperation

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Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 ~ By Nam-Joo Cho (translated by Jamie Chang)

(Liveright Publishers, New York, 2020, ISBN #978-1-63149-670-7)

Review by Joan Thompson (Fall 2020 issue)

In her debut novel Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982, Nam-Joo Cho presents a searing feminist portrait of the challenges faced by a young woman who has given up her marketing career to stay home with her young daughter.  The novel begins when Jiyoung has been at home for approximately a year.  On several occasions, she startles her husband Seungyeon Cha by talking in the voice of her mother, which he at first tries to brush off as a joke.

However, when they visit his family for Chuseok, Jiyoung shocks everyone by responding to her mother-in-law’s question regarding the work of making holiday food, by saying, “to tell you the truth, my poor Jiyoung gets sick from exhaustion every holiday!”  This disassociation from self causes Seungyeon to hire a therapist for Jiyoung and leads the reader on a journey through her therapy sessions, revealing the difficulties of thriving in a paternalistic society. 

The final chapter takes a turn that unveils not only the challenges Korean women face in addressing these issues, but also the universality of some of these challenges.

Told in succinct prose, the chapters explore Jiyoung’s childhood, adolescence, early adulthood and married life.  The reader learns of Jiyoung’s family of origin’s dynamics, her parents’ challenges, her teenage concerns, her college life, her first relationships and her first job.  Especially in the sections of the novel tied to treatment in school and on the job, much resonates with any woman who has experienced situations where boys and men are seen as more important. 

Other sections of the novel are specific to Korean family structure and experience, such as Jiyoung’s father and paternal grandmother’s insistence on having a son, as well as the preferential treatment Jiyoung’s young brother receives and the male classmates’ privileged position at school.  The novel also contains many footnoted facts with references to articles, statistics and studies regarding family structure and the role of women in Korean society at various times throughout the history covered by the story.

Flashes of women’s rebellion against the status quo also feature as important to Jiyoung.  Her older sister Eunyoung speaks out against the mother’s treatment of their brother at meals and encourages her to eat.  When the father’s employment outlook fades, the mother figures out how to make money as an under-the-radar hairdresser and keeps hidden family accounts that help the family to prosper.  Teen classmates rebel against teachers’ unfair treatment, and women in the college hiking club help younger students with the hopes of becoming leaders in male-dominated activities. 

All of these memories of women’s strength echo through Jiyoung’s decision to quit her job and her challenges with post-partum depression.  What seems logical in terms of family decisions does not necessarily carry equal weight as to who is giving up more.

Nam-Joo Cho, who formerly wrote scripts for television, has created a young mother whose family history, education and marriage opens a window to the challenges faced by contemporary Korean women.  Both the novel and its subsequent film version ignited controversy in Korea.  Calling attention to traditions that keep women from equality has been an aspect of feminist discourse throughout the world, and Cho offers much that will echo with women everywhere.  The novel’s translation into 18 languages and its status as an international bestseller speak not only to women’s issues in Korea but also to the concerns raised by feminists in other countries.

The separate lives of sisters

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The Kinship of Secrets ~ By Eugenia Kim

(Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Boston, 2008, ISBN #978-1-328-98782-2)

Review by Joan Thompson (Winter 2021 issue)

In her second novel, The Kinship of Secrets, Eugenia Kim explores the life trajectories of two sisters, one left behind in Korea and one taken to the U.S.  The book is ambitious in scope, stretching from 1950 to 1973 in two countries and also exploring older family members’ place in earlier history.

Mirin Cho is age four at the novel’s beginning.  She has immigrated with her parents, Najin and Calvin, as Calvin is starting a missionary church in suburban Washington, D.C. and also works for Voice of America.  Her sister Inja is age three, and has been left with her maternal grandparents, uncle, and aunt in Seoul.  The family flees Seoul as enemy troops move in at the start of the war.

The author alternates chapters about the two sisters’ lives and development and their awareness of each other.  In 1962, Najin and Calvin arrange for Inja to join the family in Washington, a move that Inja dreads because she is a high school student at that point, with her own life, connections and culture.  The later part of the novel looks at the family’s adjustment, the college and early working years of the sisters, and a trip the two sisters take to Korea.

Kim develops Inja’s character clearly, exploring her sense of duty as well as her sense of herself.  Inja’s chapters are generally limited to her point of view, while chapters featuring Mirin often focus on the mother Najin’s point of view.  Najin is consumed by regret for leaving her daughter behind, especially after the loss of another baby.  Central to Mirin’s character is her sense of not fitting in, feeling not fully Korean and not fully American.  The family planned to return to Korea, but the war and the ensuing political chaos in South Korea made the move impossible.  U.S. immigration status issues eventually add to the complications.

Some sections focus heavily on Korean history, presumably to provide context for readers who are not familiar with it.  The intermittent focus on history slows the pace of the story in a way that the family’s experience of history, illuminated through plot and description, does not.

Secrets are a central theme of the novel.  Inja learns early on that there are complicated reasons concerning why she was left behind in Korea, and Mirin was brought to the U.S.  As she grows older, she learns of other secrets held by her family, dating back to the Japanese occupation.  A strength of the novel is its exploration of this theme throughout the unfolding story.  The novel asks what family secrets should be held close in order to build and maintain family relationships.

One seed for the story is the author’s own sister Sun.  Like the character Inja, Sun was left behind when the family migrated, and she later joined her family in the U.S. This story of siblings left behind and secrets woven into the family story has been explored in other novels featuring immigrants, such as Amy Tan’s 1989 novel The Joy Luck Club.  It is a story undoubtedly playing out in many families today, since there is a larger percentage of immigrants in the U.S. than at any time since 1910.

In The Kinship of Secrets, Kim gives readers a fictional window into the experience of families that face such wrenching and fateful decisions.  Given our era, in which family separation is frequently in the news, Kim offers a novel exploring the repercussions of family divisions that resonates across borders and time.

Appearance vs. reality

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Skin Deep by Sung J. Woo

(Agora Books, London, 2020, ISBN #978-1-947903-95-2)

Review by Joan Thompson (Summer 2020 issue)

In his first mystery, writer Sung J. Woo introduces Siobhan O’Brien, a Korean American adoptee and a new addition to the pantheon of female private eyes.  A former journalist relatively new to her job, Siobhan depends on her boss Ed to teach her the ropes.  However, Siobhan soon finds Ed dead of a heart attack, and his detective agency is her inheritance.  Newly turned 40 and single, Siobhan is unsure of what she should do.

As she contemplates selling the agency, she gets a call that is a blast from the past.  Josie the younger, wilder sister of Siobhan’s long-dead best friend from a Midwestern Korean camp is the caller.  Josie’s daughter Penny, also a Korean adoptee, has disappeared from Llewellyn College, and Josie wants help finding her.  Because Penny has Grave’s Disease and may not have medication with her, Josie is especially worried.  Despite not liking Josie, Siobhan takes the case and finds herself in a world of convoluted motivations and lies.

Llewellyn College in Athena, NY, clearly a town modeled after Ithaca, has recently changed its admission policy to include men.  Feminists on campus, some of whom know Penny, are actively protesting the men’s admission, seem to be keeping secrets, and hire Siobhan to investigate a mysterious new building on campus.  As a journalist, Siobhan had interviewed Vera Wheeler, the new college president and former model.   Now Siobhan finds Wheeler resistant to questioning.  Siobhan soon discovers that Josie lied to her, which makes her wonder if she should continue with the case.

Increasingly odd events, however, make Siobhan determined to find Penny.  Her investigation leads her to a Lenrock University fraternity member with information on Penny’s boyfriend.  Others who knew Penny tell her about an altercation connected with something Penny wrote for a creative writing class.  Siobhan also learns that Penny did not stay with her assigned roommate but instead moved in with Grace Park, the daughter of a Korean industrialist.  Grace is guarded by well-muscled men sporting Korean gang tattoos and is reluctant to discuss her missing friend.  All of these interviews lead Siobhan to search for Penny at a yoga retreat center linked to Llewellyn, where members seem upset by the return of its controversial founder.

Each interview and visit makes Siobhan realize Penny’s disappearance has many complicated threads and the circumstances seem increasingly nefarious.  Along the way she gets the help from Craig, the lawyer from a neighboring office and a potential love interest.  Her former boss and mentor Ed continues to advise her in her imagination as she conjures memories of him and misses his counsel.  

Told in short chapters in Siobhan’s voice, the mystery moves rapidly.  While her approach to solving the mystery is not hard-boiled as author Raymond Chandler used in his famous Philip Marlow mysteries, Siobhan’s quick sense of humor is reminiscent of Marlow’s. 

That this is a mystery about appearance versus reality is clear from the beginning.  Siobhan’s name contributes to this theme; as a Korean adoptee her appearance and name are a mismatch, and she is often questioned about it and mistakenly identified because of her Irish name.

Skin Deep is Woo’s third novel. His first, Everything Asian (2009), won the 2010 Asian Pacific American Librarians’ Association Literature Award (youth category). Love Love (2015) and Everything Asian both describe the struggle, passion and humor of growing up Asian American.  As in Skin Deep, Woo touches on themes in his other novels about  adoption and the definition of family.

In Skin Deep, Woo has created an intriguing female detective as well as a fast-moving and interesting plot.  The book’s title page includes the words, “A Siobhan O’Brien Mystery.”  Fans of women detective fiction will welcome more stories featuring this clever Korean American sleuth with the very Irish name.

Ordinary life

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Dust and Other Stories ~ By T’aejun Yi (Janet Poole, trans.)

(Columbia University Press, New York, 2018, ISBN #978-0231-18581-3)

By Joan Thompson (Fall 2019 issue)

Dust and Other Stories by T'aejun Yi

In this important collection, T’aejun Yi’s short stories reflecting life in complicated times appear together for the first time.  A significant 20th century writer, Yi moved to North Korea after the country’s partition.  As Janet Poole discusses in her excellent Translator’s Introduction, Yi’s choice made him fall out of favor in South Korea, and resulted in his works being banned there.  Poole suggests that he could not have known that his move to Pyongyang and his tour of the Soviet Union that summer would be permanent.  Yi fell out of favor in North Korea as well, in the early 1950s, leaving more of his writing unpublished and his date of death unknown.

Poole presents Yi’s stories in order of original publication and lists each source.  The stories range from Omongyo in 1925 to Dust in 1950.  In her introduction, she points out that during the colonial period, stories often were republished in various versions.  In addition, she discusses the significance of Yi’s work, his choices in the context of the era, and some of the challenges of translation.

Dust, the title story and the final in the collection, features Moe Han, an antiquarian book dealer who loves Korean culture and its history.  He has successfully kept his collection from Japanese hands.  He hopes for reunification, and is curious as to whether conditions in South Korea mirror what the North Korean press says. 

Wanting to see for himself, he journeys south to visit his daughter and grandchildren, and also to connect with South Korean antiquarian book dealers.  He and his travel companion, Dr. Sim, quickly learn of the corruption and oppression in the south under Syngman Rhee’s government.  They are caught up in curfew violation and witness violent police opposition to student protests in Seoul. 

Han finds that Dr. Sim’s cousin and the school headmaster where Han taught both benefit from U.S. military control and corruption.  One striking scene in the story is an antiquarian book auction where U.S. officers have Koreans sitting at their feet, bidding for books as if acquisition of cultural artifacts is a sport.

One story, The Rainy Season, features a protagonist named Mr. Yi, and the plot contains details that suggest it is autobiographical.  The story is framed by a young married man’s argument with his wife and his attempt to make up to her.  The story describes Mr. Yi taking a bus and tram to visit newspaper offices where other creative writers toil in roles that often don’t fit their talents.  The narrator also contemplates what has become of his childhood friends from a village in Kangwon Province, especially one friend who asked him in writing a copy of his book, but Mr. Yi ignored it. 

The author also shows the difficulties of life under the Japanese colonists in describing how Yi impatiently waits through a bus inspection and contemplates that the Japanese will probably make Koreans change their names.  Poole points out in a footnote that the author’s prediction came true three years after the story was published.

Many of the stories feature a protagonist named Hyon and the challenges of life under Japanese occupation.  In some instances, stories focus on how teachers and journalist lost their jobs during the colonial era.  In The Frozen River P’ae, Hyon journeys to Pyongyang to see old friends at the Floating Blue Pavilion.  He argues with Mr. Kim, a city assemblyman benefiting from the occupation.  He thinks back to the kisaeng (women entertainers) they met in Pyongyang in the past, and he remembers their colorful headscarves, which he said made them look like butterflies.

A Tale of Rabbits does not reflect a nostalgic view of women.  In it, Hyon agrees with his wife that they will raise rabbits and deal with more scarcity by making some extra money.  She has researched the business, and though he initially resists, he finally agrees, only to learn that the bottom has fallen out of the rabbit market and their food is too expensive.  Hyon, embarrassed by his pregnant wife gathering clover on the school athletic field, goes out to gather the greens, but just feels incompetent when he is hit from behind by an errant volleyball.  He can’t imagine killing the rabbits when the family can no longer feed them, and he cannot find the energy to write the stories that magazines have requested.  Ultimately, it is his wife who solves the problem of their failing rabbit business.

Before and After Liberation: A Writer’s Note connects with the story Unconditioned, which comes just before the note in the collection.  Unconditioned is a nostalgic look at fishing near Hyon’s family village, while Before and After Liberation contains Hyon’s observations on the ending of Japanese colonialism and the political winds of that period.  He tries to remain a neutral observer during World War II, but the Japanese put him under surveillance when he resists writing pro-Japanese propaganda, and after that, he loses his income.

He moves his family to a village in Kangwon Province where he spends his days fishing and visiting with Headmaster Kim, who has demonstrated against colonial rule in the March First demonstrations, and has refused to cut off his topknot, a symbol of refusal to modernize to Japanese standards.  Hyon finds that Japanese oversight causes significant problems in the small town.  After liberation, Hyon returns to Seoul and tries to work with the Central Council.  However, disputes between the right and left, as well as the arrival of the U.S. military, test his ability to remain neutral, his friendship with Headmaster Kim is also challenged.

Not all of the stories in the collection feature Hyon as protagonist.  In Evening Sun, Maehon journeys to Kyongju for a vacation.  While exploring an antique shop, he is impressed by a much younger woman who works there and later encounters her in a tree at a pagoda he visits.  The story presents the woman as both urbane and as ethereal as a spirit.  The story traces the arc of the affair the two engage in. 

A later story, Tiger Grandma, is set in a North Korean village.  Tiger Grandma has a reputation as a hard worker honored in the village for her abilities as a healer.  She is also the last to resist the government’s literacy campaign.  The story follows Sanggun, who represents the Federation for Democratic Youth and the Children’s Alliance, as he attempts to outsmart Grandma Tiger and get her to hangul school.

Overall, Janet Poole’s strong translations bring an important collection of T’aejun Yi’s work to English-language readers.  Dust and Other Stories offers intriguing short stories that look at the effects of the colonial era and liberation on writers and teachers, as well as observations about life in North Korea in the years just after the partition.

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A family con and caper

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Fast Company combines Asian family dynamics with crime in fun noir setting  | Theater Review by Joan Thompson (Winter 2020 issue)

Ming Montgomery and Eric Pogi Sumangil in Theater Mu's "Fast Company".
Ming Montgomery and Eric Pogi Sumangil in Theater Mu’s Fast Company. Photo by Rich Ryan

Fast Company, By Carla Ching

Produced by Theater Mu, Guthrie Dowling Studio, Minneapolis ~ November 8 through 24, 2019

Theater Mu’s production of Carla Ching’s Fast Company explores the Kwans, a family of grifters led by a hard-nosed mother with a penchant for tough love.  Playing in the Guthrie’s Dowling Studio from November 8 to 24, the script is full of quick turns by a conning family whose members sometimes act as a team and sometimes assert their individuality at the expense of the others.

Blue, the youngest child, has a rare comic book con going that she hopes will win her family’s approval.  However, her brother H needs fast money to escape threats on his life involving the shadowy Dentist, reminiscent of Terry Gilliam’s 1985 film, Brazil.   His need to get out of the country leads him to undercut Blue’s con.  Francis, the oldest son, wants to go straight by becoming a modern-day, televised Houdini but is drawn into his family’s drama, while the mother Mable looks askance at her children’s failure to follow her training.  Con after con unfolds as the family tries to solve Blue’s problem, or tries to make it worse, depending on the family member.

Director Brian Balcom and Assistant Director Audrey Park lead a cast that brings this family’s capers to life.  Brian Kim shines as Francis, the aspiring magician.  His use of sleight of hand adds to his character’s authenticity, as does his battle between loyalty to family and to self.  In another stand-out performance, Jeannie Lander as Mable displays a tough facade appropriate to the matriarch of grifters.  She also convincingly embodies a character much older than she is.  In her first time on stage at Theater Mu, Ming Montgomery as Blue shifts from showing her character’s toughness to explaining the way game theory she is learning at the local community college could up her family’s con games.  As H, Eric ‘Pogi’ Sumangil displays a character willing to betray family for self-preservation, but also willing to join his siblings in a convincing performance involving the much-feared Dentist, when they need to outsmart Mable.

For a play with constantly shifting scenes, scenic designer Joel Sass makes a strong choice by using a three-piece set to depict multiple building facades and rooms.  Miko Simmons as projection manager makes Sass’s set come alive.  Before the play begins, cards cascade down the building facades.  Through constantly changing and lively projected images, Simmons’ choices keep viewers oriented as the action changes.  When Blue sets up a fake office attempting to right her con gone wrong, the view out the windows is Chinatown.  Within the room, a projected fan turns, adding a noir note to the scene.  When Francis tracks down H, the Jesus statue in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil appears behind the seedy bar.  Simmons’ projections combined with Karin Olson’s lighting design add a great deal to the play’s action and mood.

In the talk back following the performance, Lily Tung Crystal, Mu’s new artistic director discussed how the play was chosen prior to her coming on board. She spoke of appreciating the dynamics of the Asian American family Ching created, as well as the very American genre of the caper.  Eric ‘Pogi’ Sumangil, who was involved in selecting plays for the season, talked about the plays Mu has considered, and also reiterated that Theater Mu has now been in existence for over 25 years so is more than ready to focus on plays that go beyond identity.

With this entertaining production of Fast Company, Theater Mu is doing just that.  Fast Company demonstrates that Asian American stories on stage can go far beyond identity to embrace a wide variety of genres, characters and family dynamics. 

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Division made peaceful

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When Spring Comes to the DMZ ~ By Uk-Bae Lee

(Plough Publishing, Walden (NY), 2019, ISBN #978-0874869729)

Review by Joan Thompson (Winter 2020 issue)

When Spring Comes to the DMZ by Uk-Bae Lee

Uk-Bae Lee’s picture book, When Spring Comes to the DMZ explores the seasonal beauty of a no-man’s land while highlighting the family losses of a country separated.  Originally published in Korean in 2010, the book highlights the freedom of wildlife in the DMZ while underlining the cost of never-ending war.

Lee both wrote and illustrated the book.  The text follows a young boy who goes to the DMZ each season with his grandfather.  The grandfather looks north each time while the young boy observes his grandfather’s longing and the shifting seasons.  Both wildlife and military action mark each season.  In the second spring, Lee reveals the grandfather’s wish to walk into the DMZ to reunite with long-lost relatives.  The image of the gate he wishes to open is a two-page spread that opens into an imagined spring where this wish comes true.

The paintings beautifully illustrate the paradox of the DMZ.  Because the DMZ is forbidden land, nature has flourished free of human intervention.  Lee paints seals, salmon, cranes, water deer, mountain goats and other animals alongside razor wire, patrolling soldiers and rusting military gear.  The images show the beauty of mountains and trees throughout their seasons, while also highlighting the ongoing tensions at the border.

The book’s design also speaks to a wish for reunification and peace.  The endpapers in the front of the book depict a world map with the Koreas divided by razor wire.  The endpapers at the book’s back show the same map with the razor wire gone.  An illustration on the page following the story’s end shows where the various animals live along the razor wire with blue dots on a Korean Peninsula map.  Text aimed at the adult reading the book to a child is on the opposing page.  It describes the division of the Koreas, defines the DMZ and calls for the razor wire to be removed, a wildlife refuge to be preserved and opportunities for separated families to reunite.

Lee’s biography at the book’s end highlights his long-time work for social justice from teaching factory workers painting at no cost to his involvement with the Peace Picture Book Project.  This group includes illustrators not only from Korea but also from Japan and China, and Lee created When Spring Comes to the DMZ as part of this project.

Overall, When Spring Comes to the DMZ is a beautiful call for peace.  It provides a way to gently introduce young children to the history behind the DMZ and the pain separated family members experience, all while celebrating the beauty of nature.

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Saying goodbye

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Aubergine captures the universal experience of a loved one’s death  | Theater Review by Joan Thompson  (Fall 2019 issue)

Kurt Kwon and Sun Mee Chomet in Aubergine.

Aubergine by Julia Cho

Park Square Theater, St. Paul ~ September 20 through October 20, 2019

Julia Cho’s Aubergine melds food, family and memory through the story of a son caring for his dying father.  Directed by Fordelino Lagundino on Park Square’s Boss Thrust Stage from September 20 to October 20, the play explores the complexities of family history, and all that remains unsaid when a family member is dying.  Preparing food and remembering meals is central to the story, and is sure to make the viewer recall meals central to their own families’ lives.

Ray, a talented chef, is unprepared when he learns his father is dying, especially because his father’s physician equivocates about it.  When his father enters home hospice, Ray cuts himself off from his former girlfriend and coworker.  However, as the play continues, Cornelia, the former girlfriend, an uncle who arrives from Korea, and Lucien, the hospice nurse, all join Ray and his father in their journey through the stages of dying, and honoring the centrality of food and cooking to family memories.

Because of Korean Quarterly’s press date, we were invited to attend an early preview, where Ray, played by Kurt Kwan for the duration of the run, was played in the preview by understudy Brian Kim.  Throughout the play, Kim ably embodies the confusion of a person who has not witnessed death and is suddenly the only caregiver.  He struggles with understanding the stages his father is experiencing and with unresolved issues of their life together. 

Darrick Mosley as Lucien, the hospice nurse, shines as he helps Ray to understand what he faces and as he recounts his experience in a refugee camp in a foreign country.  As Cornelia, Sun Mee Chomet effectively channels the anger Cornelia feels at Ray’s disappearance from his job and her life, but then becomes his companion in caring for his father.  Song Kim as the uncle who comes from Korea, despite being estranged from his dying brother, brings strength to a role that is significant in helping Ray to understand his family’s past.  Glen Kubota as the father is near death in a hospital bed, then clashes with his son in flashbacks tied to Ray’s career choice.  Shannon Custer as Diane also contributes to the play’s theme of remembered meals and parental loss.

Several aspects of the staging stand out.  Because Ray’s uncle knows little English, Cornelia translates between the two.  In some instances, she alters what is said to smooth cultural understanding and protect feelings.  Video designer Kathy Maxwell and Maxwell Collyard, video design fellow, do an excellent job in projecting English translation on the stage’s backdrop while indicating the complexity of communication by displaying the  Hangul in a jumble that fills the curtain below it.  Food and restaurant photos during Diane’s initial monologue also worked well to set the theme, while the image when Lucien talks about his life as a refugee seems a little bucolic for his story.

Another interesting aspect is the use of a stand microphone for Diane’s monologue, for Cornelia’s scene in the lobby during intermission, and again by Ray at the memorial service for his father, a device reminiscent of a stand-up routine, though one far more serious than humorous.  While the function of Diane’s monologue is initially puzzling, the play’s ending makes the purpose clear and ties her story firmly to Ray’s.   

Sound design by Max Otto and sound design fellow Akiem Scott also works effectively, with somewhat varied and discordant musical fragments when the lights go down for scene shifts.  This device echoes the confusion and challenges Ray faces as he cares for his father.

In terms of the staging, the blocking could have been executed more strongly.  The thrust stage (which is shaped like a peninsula into the audience) by definition provides blocking challenges, and in some instances, characters have their backs to one of the sides for the entire scene.  This makes it difficult for audience on the wrong side to catch the actors’ emotions in any way other than by voice.  Additionally, in some scenes, the light attached to the hospital bed obscures the father’s face for theater-goers seated on the side.

Throughout the play, small details beyond language show the attention paid to cultural authenticity.  In all scenes set in the home, the characters are in stocking feet or wear house slippers.  Lucien’s description of food from his home country and the food in the refugee camp also rings with authenticity.  The production benefits from cultural advising by Richard Lee and Edwige Mubonzi.  Playwright Julia Cho, in the Playwright’s Perspective, adds her family’s story of food and cooking, giving clues to her creative process.

This thought-provoking play reminds us that we are not as alone as we feel when we experience the death of a loved one, an experience that is common to all.  Nor are we alone in our memories of foods that we identify with home, whether it is pastrami sandwiches, mulberries, packaged ramen or turtle soup cooked with love.

Korean Quarterly is dedicated to producing quality non-profit independent journalism rooted in the Korean American community. Please support us by subscribing, donating, or making a purchase through our store.  

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