Themes
Key
LitCharts assigns a color and icon to each theme in Nothing to Envy, which you can use to track the themes throughout the work.
Propaganda, Misinformation, Deception, and Control
Isolationism and Self-Reliance
Surveillance, Trust, and Relationships
Scarcity, Starvation, and Desperation
Escape, Trauma, and Survivor’s Guilt
Summary
Analysis
Jun-sang and Mi-ran’s relationship began to buckle under the strain of being unable to confide in one another. Though in the past, they’d spent hours gossiping and talking about the small, ordinary things in their lives, Jun-sang now felt he couldn’t confide in Mi-ran about his anti-regime sentiments. Not only was he afraid of jeopardizing himself—but he didn’t want to tell Mi-ran what he’d learned, putting her in a position of having to teach her students about the glory of the regime while knowing, in the back of her mind, about the atrocities it committed each day. Jun-sang had stayed on in a research capacity at his university following graduation, and he saw Mi-ran only twice a year. They were both in their mid-20s now, and their relationship was changing.
This passage illustrates how the constant state of surveillance in North Korea—which grew even more prevalent and pervasive as the fallout from the famine widened—completely changed the nature of Jun-sang and Mi-ran’s pure, intimate relationship. Mi-ran and Jun-sang could not discuss anything of consequence; as a result, the intimacy between them suffered, and they second-guessed whether they truly knew the other person.
Themes
Jun-sang didn’t know how to approach the idea of a future with Mi-ran. He couldn’t imagine himself married to anyone but her—but he knew that if they wed, his chances of joining the Workers’ Party would be ruined. Privately, he wondered if the regime—which he now knew to be, in essence, the last of its kind except for Cuba—would crumble soon, or whether war would break out. Thinking about marriage seriously was too stressful with such things in mind, yet he mourned the idea of abandoning his relationship with Mi-ran.
Jun-sang found himself unable to communicate with Mi-ran about the fears and concerns he had about their relationship, their country, and their futures—whether those futures would end up being joined or separate. Because Jun-sang knew that he was already engaged in risky activities, he didn’t want to implicate Mi-ran or complicate her life any further, and he didn’t want to get caught himself.
Themes
Mi-ran had marriage on the brain. Two of her sisters were already married with children, and most of her friends were engaged. Mi-ran knew that if she and Jun-sang married, life would be extremely hard and hostile for them both because of her beulsun. Mi-ran was also worried about her job—she had only 15 students as opposed to the standard 50—and her father Tae-woo’s failing health. Just before Tae-woo passed in 1997, he begged his children to inform his family back in South Korea of his death. Mi-ran and her siblings had no idea how to contact their relatives in South Korea—but one day, Mi-ran’s sister So-hee came home, breathless, with an idea: they could sneak into China with the help of one of her friends. There, they could use a telephone to call their distant family.
Mi-ran, too, found herself gravitating more and more toward anti-regime sentiment and activity. She was contending with major issues: fear for her future, the death of a parent, the burden of watching her students waste away, and the possibility of defecting. She could not communicate any of this to Jun-sang—she knew she had to deal with it all on her own or risk implicating both of them.
Themes
After a long conversation, it was decided that Mi-ran, So-hee, their younger brother Sok-ju, and their mother would make the trip together. They planned for weeks, all the while working to maintain an appearance of normalcy. Though Mi-ran’s family had never been the most loyal to the regime, they still feared jeopardizing their relatively stable position and harming those closest to them. The night before leaving, Mi-ran unwrapped a packet of letters she’d kept from Jun-sang over the years and destroyed them. Mi-ran knew that though the trip was supposed to be a quick one, there was a chance she would never return. She told herself that even if she never saw Jun-sang again, he would be better off without her.
As Mi-ran and her family began to plan a trip across the border, they knew that they had to cover their tracks carefully and protect those they loved from being associated with them. They were already people of beulsun—and if they were caught defecting, even just to make a phone call, there was no telling what terrible punishments the regime would bring down upon them and those they loved.
Themes
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The next morning, Mi-ran and her siblings left their apartment one by one. Their mother stopped by a neighbor’s house to tell them that she was headed off to help one of her older daughters with her children for a couple of weeks, hoping to buy them some time before anyone noticed they were missing. In Chongjin, Mi-ran and her sister met up and headed on foot to meet So-hee’s friend who would transport them to the border. As Mi-ran walked through the main thoroughfare of Chongjin, she thought she spied Jun-sang across the street. It didn’t make sense for him to be there this time of year. She wasn’t even sure if it was really him. Nonetheless, she was tempted to rush across the street and say goodbye—but she knew that doing so would put the entire plan in jeopardy. She looked away and walked on.
As Mi-ran prepared to leave North Korea—perhaps forever—she told herself that Jun-sang would be better off without her: he would be able to pursue his dream of joining the Workers’ Party and improve his and his family’s lives. At the last moment, however, Mi-ran found herself so desperate to connect with Jun-sang in a real, authentic way one last time that it’s implied that she effectively hallucinated him on the street. This reflects her pain at being unable to trust Jun-sang or let him put his trust in her.
Themes
After bribing his way to the border, So-hee’s friend with the truck dropped Mi-ran and her family at the Tumen river late at night. They crossed at different points to lower their chances of being caught together—which would be evidence of premeditated defection, a crime worthy of terrible punishment. Mi-ran waded across the river alone, terrified but determined to press on. When she reached the other side, she found herself alone in a dark field. Soon, however, she heard Sok-ju calling out for her. She reached out her hand—within moments, he stumbled over and grasped it. They had escaped.
As Demick reconstructs the night of Mi-ran and her family’s escape, she pays close attention to the absolute terror that accompanied every step of the journey. To defect from North Korea was to reject its founding ideologies—collectivism, juche, and the superiority of life under the Kim dynasty. To abandon the only way of life she’d ever known was not yet a liberating idea, even with all the pain and suffering she’d witnessed—it was pure terror.
Themes
