On the Topic of Digital Humanities...

Although this course means to integrate digital tools into streamlined coursework, due to the pandemic pushing learning online for the past year, I didn't quite notice that focus until this prompt. That being said, the utilization of specific platforms like Omeka and Neatline were components of this course that I believe bolstered my learning experience, as they offered means by which information could be presented alternative to an essay format. 

Overall, tools like Omeka and Neatline provided a higher degree of freedom in presentation, which inherently promoted creative thinking and a greater awareness of design. It wasn't difficult transitioning to online work, given the aforementioned circumstances, and learning to use the new tools was fun and easy to get into.

Speaking frankly, and as stated before, I didn't notice that this course was meant to focus on digital tools. Maybe I was alone in this experience, but most of the times where I did essays and the like by hand was in preparation for proctored exams, though I do admit that most projects I've completed were by hand. In general, I feel like education is increasingly transitioning towards incorporating digital tools, especially with heightened access and familiarity with computers. Largely because I feel this way, this course didn't feel all that distinct from other English courses I've taken thus far, though I believe its execution and material were both exceptional.

On the Topic of Pachinko's Lessons...

Pachinko is a moderately lengthy novel, and many themes could be derived from its layered characters and ideas. That being said, the most prominent message, which is reflected through nearly every significant character, is to push through difficult circumstances. Odds are, for the majority of people, life does not view us in an endearing manner a majority of the time, giving us lemons and whatnot. When ordeals are presented without a moment's respite, people may change in order to weather the storm, but it's important to remember who you are and where you came from, just as Sunja and her family, even Noa who estranged himself, visited Isak's grave, mirroring how Yangjin cleaned Hoonie's grave decades prior.

Now, in a more abstract sense, I believe that Pachinko is an argument against organized religion, particularly Christianity. It is through this subtle argument that I find that some of the odd choices in the novel can be explained.

Firstly, the Biblical names. Being raised a Christian myself, the religion for which I was christened, I did not believe that any of the characters in Pachinko mirrored their Biblical counterparts outside of the names themselves, which I believe served as satire. 

Going down the list, Isaac's most notable role in the Bible is not any role of his own; he was to be sacrificed by his father, Abraham, to God in a show of piety. Of course, being that it was merely a test, Isaac was spared at the last moment, and he then went on to live a lengthy life, regarded as one of the "patriarchs of the Israelites." On the flipside, Isak is not sacrificed by his father, but willingly sacrifices himself in a societal sense to marry Sunja, and, as mentioned in class, was extremely sickly, dying at a young age. The connection between the two is their piety, and though Isaac was granted extended life for his piety, Isak receives no such favor.

There are a couple Josephs in the Bible, but being that the rest are Old Testament figures, I believe Yoseb to parallel Joseph son of Jacob. Joseph is known for being sold into slavery in Egypt by his jealous brothers, then receiving favor from the Pharaoh due to his God-given prophecies; he enters into a position of governing power in Egypt, meets his family with their roles of power reversed, and forgives them. Yoseb, like Isak, is much the opposite of his Biblical counterpart. He willingly enters into Japan, which is the oppressing body like Egypt, and by no influence of his brother. In fact, Isak is brought into Japan by Yoseb, and Isak is not jealous at all, being kind and generous. Finally, Yoseb never attains a lofty position, remaining overworked and miserable until he is engulfed in flames performing work that he loathed. Where Joseph was rewarded for his foresight from God, Yoseb actively picked the wrong choice in going to work in Nagasaki, and burdened his accommodating family for it.

Noah's tale is known even by non-Christians: he was warned by God of an impending world-cleansing flood, and so he built an ark to carry his family and a pair of every animal species, repopulating the Earth. Noa in Pachinko does not fare as well in weathering the storm. Even when he tries to escape from his past and his blood, it eventually catches up to him, leading him to commit suicide and leaving his wife and children alone. 

Moses is also a well-known Biblical figure. Born a Hebrew but raised as Egyptian royalty, Moses learns of his bloodline and leaves on a nomadic journey, eventually being commanded by God to free the Hebrews from their Egyptian captors, and finally bringing them to Canaan, the land of milk and honey. Of course, because Moses hit a rock to draw water instead of tapping it one time, he was not allowed to enter into Canaan despite leading his people to it. Moses also etched the Ten Commandments unto rock twice, and is regarded as one of the most pious individuals in the Bible. Contrary to this is Mozasu, who has no such wish to leave the land of his oppressors; his income is based in pachinko, which he cannot simply uproot and move to America, much to the dismay of his wife Yumi. Mozasu does not lead anyone out of Japan, being that even his son, Solomon, is determined to take up his father's work in Japan at the end of the novel. This completely goes against the God-given order Moses received and carried out to free his people.

Finally, we have Solomon, son of David and king of Israel, known for being an incredibly wise ruler. This was shown when God asked Solomon what he wished for, and Solomon asked only for wisdom--a wish that was granted. In Pachinko, Solomon doesn't necessarily exude any such wisdom. Even disregarding his questionable actions, Solomon just seems to lack a savviness or general awareness, which was indicated through his conversations with his boss.

It's simply odd that Lee would choose to name her characters after Biblical figures only to have all of them seem to be the exact opposite of their Biblical counterparts, particularly with regards to the outcomes of their respective interactions with God.

Now, I would like to make the argument that Hansu's role in Pachinko is meant to be a stand-in for God. Now, I came across this line of reasoning by wondering why a character with such a pivotal role in the story was neutered off twice. For all that Hansu puppeteers every action and whim of Sunja's family, after the realization that Hansu had been doing all this puppeteering, he just shows up every once in a while with very little presence. Through Sunja's monologue at the end of the story, we are made aware that Hansu is alive, but no information is known about his actions or influences.

So I reconsidered Hansu's actual role in the story. He was a guiding force that seemed to dictate every action that Sunja and her family took, but eventually, his influence waned and it became apparent that he was just a man, succumbing to prostate cancer. The reason that I believe that Hansu is an allusion to God is, again, due to his omniscient, all-controlling persona that is built up after Sunja meets him again in the farm. As time passes, Hansu's "power" becomes less abstract, and much more human, being that he is unable to locate Noa. 

Overall, I do believe that the two combine to make an argument against organized religion. That being said, I do not think that Lee's intent was to make that argument in a general sense. It is my belief that Lee is arguing that, going back to the primary takeaway, is that religion will not help you in a pinch. Religion will do nothing for you outside of whatever you attribute to it, and that's okay. Lee does not argue against the concept of religion, nor does she contest its practice; Isak is not downplayed for his piety, but neither is Noa chided for his doubts. It is simply a reinforcement of the primary theme, in that a higher power will not deliver anyone from difficulties.

On the Topic of Yumi, Akiko, and Greater Implications...

I'm not entirely sure how the quotes relate to any relationship between Korea and Japan. In the case of the first quote by Yumi, her statement indicates that she holds no love for Korea due to the stigma the race has held throughout her life, and while she loves Japan, Japan and its populace does not reciprocate her appreciation. This fits in line with what we know of Yumi as a character, as her Korean mother was a gambler who abandoned her and her sister. As Yumi had lived in Japan for either the majority of or all her life, her abusive mother coupled with the general racism towards Koreans at the time would lead her to dislike Korea extensively. On the other hand, Japan had given Yumi the opportunity to provide for herself, and so although Japan would bare its fangs against her on account of her race, she would still prefer it over Korea as a consequence of the opportunities it afforded her. Of course, this does not indicate a greater relationship between the two nations, as it indicates the worldview of an individual under specific circumstances that, although not rare, are not indicative of the whole picture.

In the case of the quote for Akiko, her character is, again, what seeps through, with no greater reflection of the relationship between Japan and Korea being showcased. The quote is not from Akiko, but from Noa immediately after their falling out, as he realizes that she does not love him, but loves his race in order to take a moral high ground against other Japanese. This indicates in how Akiko, in her desire to go against the grain, is unable to understand the feelings of someone she supposedly cares for, leading to a bitter and swift breakup. Now, the only possible venue for this situation to connect to the relationship between Korea and Japan is that because Akiko is going against the grain by loving Koreans, the norm was to loathe them instead, which is something that we already knew.

Of course, the two siblings' relationships do relate to their mother's relationship with Hansu, being an odd collage of the two. A focal point in the relationship between Mozasu and Yumi's relationship is how Mozasu is uncompromising when it comes to the family staying in Japan; following Yumi's death, Mozasu is crippled with regret about not taking Yumi to California. Much in the same way, Hansu never really considers what Sunja wants, only what he believes that Sunja needs. This is apparent from when he tells Sunja to move to the countryside to work on a farm he vouches for, even though he is aware that Yoseb will not comply, and also when he wanted Sunja to be his lover in Korea.

Unlike Sunja and Hansu, however, Yumi was understanding of Mozasu's stalwart desire to stay in Japan, as his income was rooted in Japan after a long duration of hard work. Sunja does not understand many of Hansu's headstrong actions, which is completely understandable, as nearly all of Hansu's actions are done in his own self-interests.

Akiko and Noa's relationship was superficial, and fell apart because Noa felt/realized that Akiko wanted him as a trophy rather than an individual. This realization is similar to the one Sunja had about Hansu, being that she felt used exclusively for lovemaking as opposed to lifelong commitment. Although, as omniscient readers, we are aware that Hansu did feel some sort of love for Sunja, while we are not certain as to whether or not the twisted affection that Akiko held for Noa was actually love.

Now, the statements about Yumi and Akiko do reflect their personal emotions concerning colonialism. As stated earlier, Yumi saw colonialism as a positive good, as she was given opportunities in Japanese culture that her abusive Korean mother could never give her. On the other hand, Akiko adored Koreans much in the same way that people can enjoy watching endangered animals in zoos. She wanted to go against the societal grain, using Noa's status as a Korean to take a stance of moral superiority over her fellow, xenophobic Japanese citizens. Akiko viewed colonialism as an evil, but the view was rooted in an odd, self-persecution mindset.

On the Topic of Gender in Pachinko...

At a glance, gender does not play a significant role in the story of Pachinko when compared to culture, family, and other themes in the novel. That being said, Pachinko, being set in 20th century Korea and Japan, does display implicit commentary on gender norms through its characters.

First off, we have to talk about Yoseb. Yoseb is described by the novel and its characters as an upstanding individual, caring for his family with everything he has. Prior to Isak's death, Yoseb never raised his voice, and although he was a wary individual, he was still willing to take risks for those he cared for, evident by the loan he took for Sunja and Isak's wedding rice.

Despite these positive characteristics, Yoseb is ingrained with the contemporary gender norms, and truly embodies them unlike any other character seen thus far in Pachinko. Isak as a character acknowledged the presence of gender norms, based on his understanding of the misfortune that befell Sunja as a single mother, but he did not seem to buy into them. Hansu, on the other hand, seemed to be above gender norms as a result of his wealth and status, being that he was willing to take a mistress; he was a representation of power and corruption rather than masculinity. 

Compared to those two, Yoseb is very clearly meant to be the traditional male archetype. He works himself to the bone, refusing to let himself be financially supported by his wife or even sister-in-law. This is most apparent when he says his "balls are shriveling" when learning that Sunja paid off his debts, his extremities being a clear reference to his masculinity. Yoseb does not cry, nor does he really open up emotionally to anyone except Isak. He takes pride in his job title, though he detests his work due to his overbearing manager.

After Isak's death, Yoseb becomes the stereotypical abuser. He is a deadbeat, drinks excessively, and his emotional isolation is ramped up to an eleven. This is apparent through his wife's emotional estrangement to him, and they very rarely speak to one another. Hansu very easily berates Yoseb for his failure in this regard, and how he is unable to embody traditional masculine standards following his injuries.

Sunja is often cited as the strong, independent woman, and the novel seems to push this idea. She works for herself to support Yoseb while Isak is in prison, and she is successful enough in that expenditure that she gets a job that pays more than Yoseb's. When going to get that new job, she speaks with the restaurant owner while Kyunghee waits outside, attending to Mozasu. She worked for her mother in her boarding house from a young age, and tilled the fields in the Japanese countryside while waiting for WWII to conclude. As a character, Sunja goes against the grain of traditional femininity, and is all the better for it, but there are other female characters that are strong in different ways.

For instance, Yangjin plays into traditional gender roles while still being a strong character. Yangjin, when receiving an offer from Isak to marry Sunja, orders the latter to go with him on a walk and accept the offer. She does not consult Sunja on this, and states that there is nothing undesirable about Isak, and to devote her life to him. That being said, Yangjin did not estrange Sunja, and she was a widow that raised Sunja with only the earnings from the boarding house she ran. Even in the later years of WWII, Hansu found Yangjin making a living for herself. Yangjin is undoubtedly a strong female character, but she does believe in the correctness of traditional gender roles.

In the middle of this dichotomy is Kyunghee, who acknowledges said gender roles but obeys them rather than believing in them. She refrained from getting a job in order to avoid hurting Yoseb's pride. In arguments with Yoseb, Kyunghee rarely stood up for herself or Sunja, instead trying to defuse Yoseb's anger. As stated before, she stood outside the restaurant while Sunja was discussing the terms of their employment, and even when she was the one making Kimchi, it was Sunja who ultimately went outside with the stall and sold them. Of course, Kyunghee is still emotionally strong, supporting the cast throughout the turbulent events. 

Being that the story is only around halfway done, a definitive answer as to what Lee wanted to convey about gender is elusive. From what has been presented thus far, it seems like Lee is showing that gender roles aren't inherently detrimental, but are flawed in the sense that said roles can very easily be used to demean individuals' livelihoods. 

On the Topic of Noah...

Of the Biblical names, Noah is definitely one of the most easily recognized. Although his role in the Bible was short, what he accomplished is known across the globe, even to most non-Christians: he was chosen by God to repopulate the Earth after God decided to flood the planet for its sinful ways. To this end, Noah gathered his family and a pair of each animal species, and boarded them all upon a wooden ark that weathered the flood that covered the world.

From what we know of Noah in Pachinko, we can't yet say that he is a savior or anything of the sort, but there are still some parallels we can draw between Noah and his namesake. In the Bible, the reason that Noah was selected to carry on life was that he was a paragon of devotion and piety. Funnily enough, although Noah in Pachinko outright states his skepticism that God exists, he is known to be intelligent and generally unproblematic. 

As stated earlier, the main point of Noah's story Biblically was that he was selected to survive a purge, and in doing so he brought along animal life to survive too. Although not a 1-to-1, the reason that Sunja's family survives the tail end of WWII is that Hansu, the benefactor of her family, wants Noah to survive, being that he is Hansu's sole male heir. 

Alternatively, the fact that Noah survived in the first place could be a parallel to his Biblical self, being that he was one of the survivors of a number of decades that saw the mass death and cultural genocide of Koreans. Of course, this interpretation doesn't fit particularly well, being that in Pachinko, Noah is one of many Koreans who survived, and, culturally, Noah seems to prefer Japanese mannerisms and ethics.

I believe that the brunt of Noah's parallel will come later in the novel, in that he may bring his entire family out of Japan and back to Korea. I think this to be a probable outcome, given that Noah is shown to be academically successful, backed by the wealthy and influential Hansu, while still maintaining a close relationship with his family. Plus, it would be weird for a book described as a "four generation saga of Koreans" to end in Japan after having a large chunk of its story in Japan.

On the Topic of Lee's Style...

Of the novels we've read as part of this course, Min Jin Lee's Pachinko reads the most like a standard novel, maybe tied with Home Fire. The novel is broken into fairly short, episodic chapters that detail a series of events in the third-person omniscient perspective. For a reader, Pachinko is certainly easier to digest than some other novels we've read in the course, namely The Interesting Narrative and Hayy Ibn Yaqzan. When comparing the novel's structure the other standard fiction novels we've read, Home Fire, The Secret River, and There There, it's really just a matter of preference. Home Fire and There There have longer chapters that each focus on the actions and thoughts of a single character, and The Secret River was told entirely through a single perspective. In a sense, Pachinko's third-person omniscient perspective is more liberating than the other novels, in that we can see the thoughts of any character at any time, thereby mitigating disorientation from shifting perspectives.

With regards to Lee's writing style, she is rather descriptive of characters, at times many orders moreso than the environment. She is a character-oriented writer, which is a pretty good thing, I'd say, as she does not neglect to detail other aspects of the story. The way that Lee writes characters is compelling, which is evident from how easy it is to understand Hoonie's character despite him being alive for a grand total of about ten pages.

That being said, I don't necessarily understand her inclusion of sex scenes. Up to chapter twelve, there have been two amorous scenes detailed that I can recall, and, frankly speaking, I don't understand what narrative purpose that such scenes could entail. Personally, I think that sex scenes in novels just exist to draw in a young adult audience; if they are to reinforce character relationships, then different events could achieve the same purpose with significantly greater depth. Regardless, they don't necessarily detract from her style, I just personally don't enjoy that particular aspect.

Overall Pachinko isn't exactly what I expected. There are many points in which I understand the cultural implications of events, and there are other points in which events seem incongruous with that same knowledge and experience. It's still a worthwhile read, and I am curious to see where Lee will take the story.

On the Topic of Hansu and Isak...

Hansu and Isak were the two romantic interests for Sunja up to this point in the story, and are vastly different characters. 

The first romantic partner that Sunja had was Hansu, a wealthy and relatively powerful Korean who had been living in Japan. His interest in Sunja initially read as somewhat strange, being that he bothered her on shopping trips like clockwork, and Sunja seemed to think as much too. Her attitude shifted quickly after Hansu saved her from sexual harassment by Japanese high schoolers, and they entered into a relationship. Afterwards, it read like many other young love stories, as Sunja became pregnant and with Hansu unwilling to become married; of course, the details were different from the atypical young love story, as Hansu was a great deal older than Sunja, and was already married and with children in Japan. Although Hansu was enthusiastic about helping Sunja, willing to buy her a house and still continue their relationship barring marriage, Sunja felt her world come crashing down, as a single mother was culturally unacceptable in Korea at the time.

The individual who got her out of the predicament of being a single mother was Isak, a good-natured minister whose life was saved by Sunja and her mother. In stark contrast with Hansu, who was well-built, Isak was chronically ill, and soft-spoken compared to Hansu's straightforward approaches. That being said, some of their circumstances were similar: Hansu was wealthy where Isak came from a high-class family, though they were facing financial troubles at the time of the story. Both characters were kind though somewhat uncompromising, with Hansu being certain that the arrangement he offered Sunja was the best for her, and with Isak creating a relationship that wasn't necessarily romantic from the outset.

Hansu was an odd character to pin down. His actions were definitely intolerable by modern standards, which made them even worse for Sunja in the early 20th century. What's weird is that he reads like a character that didn't come from a culture where being a mistress was a shame upon one's lineage, and his offer seems like a genuine attempt to further his love for Sunja. He's still scummy, but it feels like he was written with an unnatural amount of nuance for his actions.

Isak is more clear-cut. He's the stereotypical "good guy" without ulterior motives, saving Sunja from dishonor in part due to the fact that she and her mother saved his life, and in part due to his innate kindness. Granted, being a "nice guy" isn't always what someone is looking for in a relationship, and that seems to be the case with Sunja. I think it would be best for Sunja to stay with Isak, but the way things have been written thus far seems to imply that will not hold true.