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.

On the Topic of the Japanese Invasion of Manchuria...

While engaging into a quick foray into information about the Japanese invasion of Manchuria, I learned a decent amount about the circumstances which surrounded it. 

To begin with, it is hypothesized that the initial invasion of Manchuria was not sanctioned by the government or emperor, and was an independent action by the Japanese Army.

The invasion of Manchuria was either done concurrently with or resulted in Japan leaving the League of Nations, which didn't really affect any involved parties except for solidifying Japanese isolation from international affairs.

Regarding the invasion itself, the Japanese were met with very little resistance because China was in the process of reunification, and the military head of the reunification movement did not intend to spare troops to defend Manchuria.

What fascinated me the most was that the invasion was started and justified by an explosion on a Japanese railway, which Japan blamed on China. The League of Nations attempted to blame both China and Japan in this situation, albeit moreso Japan, thereby giving credence to the false accusation; however, the railway was damaged minimally, and the trains operated on said rails normally, cementing that Japan had orchestrated this event in order to justify their imminent attack.

This interested me because the American war in Vietnam was justified in a similar manner: by fabricating and lying about Vietnamese attacks on a US destroyer. In declassified documents, it was revealed that the destroyer was ordered to attack Vietnamese ships that entered some radius of it, and that the report of a second attack was completely false.

Where the Japanese fabrication was to force the Japanese government to support a military movement that was highly popular with the military and populace, the US fabrication was to garner support from the American populace for a military movement backed by the US government and military. 

On the Topic of the Equiano Group Project...

The research compiled and presented by the Equiano group was detailed, and shed a light upon a topic that is known about but rarely discussed in length. Slave ships were arguably the most important component of the slave trade, and having so little said about what took place on them is surprising.

That being said, you really get what you would assume when it comes to slave ships. If you were to ask a random individual what they thought took place on a slave ship, they'd likely give an accurate overview, being that the slaves were treated more as livestock than humans, were cramped, malnourished, and the like. Of course, the details may be off, but it's essentially what occurred. 

What caught my attention in the research excursion were two things in particular. Firstly, I was surprised to learn that the Igbo tribe in particular had a higher rate of suicides. My surprise came about due to multiple reasons; I was shocked to know that traders kept track of slaves' individual tribes enough to know that one tribe was more prone to suicide than another. Of course, that may have simply been a component of business, in the same way one might keep track of what breed a dog is. I was also surprised that a certain tribe would be more prone to suicide in the first place. Usually, it's not a cultural influence that makes people more likely to commit suicide, but an environmental one; the slaves were all on similar ships, so the fact that a tribe's culture would influence suicide in such a way, be it due to honor or the like, was a revelation for me.

The other thing that caught my attention were the cited statistics in general. As stated before, a layman could probably assume that the conditions on slave ships were inhospitable, but stating specific statistics, such as a 12.3% mortality rate over all slave ships, gives magnitude to the generality.

Overall, it was a great and unique research excursion that was informative.

On the Topic of Equiano against Slavery...

In class discussion, there was a bit of confusion and debate as to whether Equiano's purpose in writing his autoethnography was to persuade others to abolish slavery or to make it more humane. Evidence was brought up for both possibilities, each being valid in its relation to its respective topic. That being said, I do not think that Equiano's purpose is one or the other, per say.

We have seen instances of Equiano indicating that he wishes for slavery to be more humane: this is most obviously displayed in Chapter 6, when Equiano states that a well-fed, well-treated slave will obviously be more productive than a malnourished, beaten one. We have also seen instances of Equiano indicating he wishes for the complete abolishment of slavery. This can be seen in several comments throughout the novel, which show his distaste for the system, and his personal objections. One such objection can be seen at the end of Chapter 4, where Equiano is trying to reason against his enslavement to a new master due to his abhorrent working conditions, having fought against the French for no pay, and having been baptized as a servant of the Christian God. 

Now, although these two desires may seem to be in conflict, I think that there's a very simple answer to why Equiano gives off indications of two different beliefs. Equiano is an intelligent individual, and is aware that those that he is trying to convince to abolish slavery are very likely to be in support of it by default; such an audience would be incredibly unreceptive to a clear argument to abolish slavery, especially from a black man. By making logical arguments against the effectiveness of slavery from the perspective of a "fellow countryman," Equiano is able to subtly imprint his desire for slavery to be abolished, from musings and statements that his audience can agree with on an individual basis.

In that regard, Equiano's goal is to abolish slavery, but his publicized intent is to argue against slavery in all its facets.

On the Topic of the Grenville Research Excursions...

Kate Grenville's The Secret River was a rather thought-provoking read, and so it follows that the resultant research excursions are interesting forays into unique facets of dialogue that the novel promotes. Although each of the research excursions brings a swathe of information, I'd like to focus on three in particular.

In Bianca's essay on settler women, she speaks about the importance of needlework for settler women, and its correlation with class. From a modern perspective, evaluating someone's worth on their finesse in a particular hobby would be unthinkable, but at the time, women were to exclusively be homemakers, so the emphasis on needlework makes sense in that regard. Also, I thought it was odd that even though whiteness was closely associated with privilege and societal power for colonial women, white women were still unable to travel without facing prejudice.

Over the course Bailey's essay on Captain James Cook's voyage, he provides a comprehensive overview of the journey that Cook embarked on that led to the colonization of Australia. One thing that I found fascinating was that a key purpose of his voyage--to build an observatory in order to calculate the distance of planets and points on the Earth--was kept to the utmost confidentiality. Although we take geographical knowledge for granted today, in the past, it is clear that cartography was highly coveted, and possession of such information was a political and strategic advantage over other nations.

Lastly, Bella's essay on contemporary Aboriginal struggles provides a significant amount of historical context for these struggles. One thing I took note of was children of Aboriginals and colonists who were called "half-castes," mirroring their reduced social status in comparison to pureblood whites. This social hierarchy reminded me of Spanish colonization, where mixed offspring were called mestizos, and also had a lower social standing. It was also interesting to me that modern Aboriginals are often viewed as simple drunkards, which they attribute to having their culture systematically obliterated; I am curious as to why they do not assimilate into modern Australian culture and society, even if they do not have to or want to given historical precedent.