After Japan annexes Korea in 1910, the country increasingly falls into poverty, and Koreans must cooperate with the occupying Japanese in order to get by in daily life. The situation is not much better for Koreans living in Japan, like Sunja and her family; the Japanese look down on Koreans as troublemaking, dirty criminals and severely limit their activities. Pachinko portrays various scenarios in which Koreans struggle for survival in an imperial context, including dealing with the black market, practicing their religious faith, and establishing identities as Japanese-born ethnic Koreans. Through these stories, Lee argues that “pure” resistance to or compromise with imperialism is rare; rather, individuals make the best choices they can within specific circumstances, holding onto their identities as best they can.
For Koreans trying to survive under Japanese imperialism, reliance on the yakuza, the heavily Korean organized crime syndicate, reflects Koreans’ vulnerable position within Japanese society as a whole. For example, Korean fishermen have little choice but to cooperate with the ambiguous, often sinister, intermediary role of yakuza men like Koh Hansu. In Busan, where Sunja grows up, fish brokers like Hansu work as go-betweens with Japanese officials and accordingly have the power to enrich or impoverish Korean fishermen. They are seen by ordinary Koreans as “arrogant interlopers who made all the profits from fishing but kept the fish smell off their smooth white hands,” yet the fishermen are forced to stay on good terms with them for their livelihood.
Sunja’s and Kyunghee’s employment is also yakuza-dependent. In Osaka, after Sunja and Kyunghee have worked for years for restaurant manager Kim Changho, Sunja is shocked to learn that Hansu owns the restaurant—and that he had created the job specifically for her because he knew she needed money. Hansu also uses his connections to shelter Sunja’s family in the countryside during the war, finding them work with a farmer who sells produce to the black market. When Sunja, Kyunghee, and Yoseb move back to Osaka after the war, Hansu’s lawyer helps them reclaim their property, and his construction company rebuilds their house. At this point, Hansu’s connections are so interwoven with their lives and survival that Sunja takes them for granted, and her family no longer asks too many questions about the implications. Though they are never comfortable being put in the position of relying on shady intermediaries, their survival as a family isn’t possible without it.
Koreans’ intense vulnerability in Japan also hinges on religion. For Korean Christians living in Japan, like Isak and Sunja, Christian faith is closely aligned with the struggle for Korean independence, so Christians are targets of persecution. In some ways, the Church cooperates with imperial rule, but individuals still resist and suffer terribly as a result. Thus, the novel emphasizes that neither wholehearted compromise nor staunch resistance are viable solutions in an imperial landscape. In some places, Christians have been specifically rounded up and forced to participate in Shinto ceremonies honoring the Emperor. Under duress, the Korean Presbyterian Church decides that participating in the ceremony is “a civic duty rather than a religious one.” Pastor Yoo, the head of Isak’s and Sunja’s church, believes that the ceremony is essentially idol worship, but that, nevertheless, his congregation should participate “for the greater good.” While this could be seen as a compromise, it’s also a survival measure, since resistance would almost certainly mean the church’s extinction.
Hu, a rescued orphan who serves as the congregation’s sexton, mouths the Lord’s Prayer during one Shinto ceremony, and when he’s caught, the pastors, including Isak, are implicated for unpatriotic resistance along with him. After his release from prison years later, Isak soon dies, and he’s revered for generations as a martyr for his faith. There’s a certain ambiguity about Isak’s martyrdom—after all, he willingly joins the Shinto ceremony and doesn’t openly resist himself. Yet, once jailed, he patiently endures years of maltreatment and doesn’t recant his beliefs. Like other Korean Christians, Hu, Pastor Yoo, and Isak uphold their faith with as much integrity as they can find under terrible external pressures because imperialism makes it impossible for them to compromise neatly or resist completely.
Sunja’s sons, Noa and Mozasu, each wrestle with this heritage of resistance and compromise in their own ways: “Noa said that Koreans had to raise themselves up by working harder and being better. Mozasu just wanted to hit everyone who said mean things.” In other words, Noa is more compromise-minded, while Mozasu has a heart for resistance, but neither man’s strategy proves entirely effective. Isak’s dying advice to young Noa is that “Wherever you go, your represent our family, and you must be an excellent person—at school, in town, and in the world.” In his mind, Noa harmonizes this with what he’s been taught by his Japanese schoolteacher, that he has a duty to help “make Koreans good children of the benevolent Emperor.” Noa bears this dual pressure from the time he’s a small child, going by his Japanese name at school, mastering the language, and revealing as little as possible about his family background. But above all, he “wanted to be Japanese.” Though Noa succeeds, eventually building a new life in which he passes as Japanese for years, he finally commits suicide; his nephew believes Noa did this “because he wanted to be Japanese and normal.” This suggests that Noa’s effort to compromise with Japanese culture is ultimately a failed strategy.
In contrast to his brother’s efforts to rise above others’ prejudice, Mozasu doesn’t try to be a “good Korean” by Japanese standards, but instead begins working his way up in the gambling business, eventually becoming the millionaire owner of several pachinko parlors. Because pachinko is regarded in Japan as a “dirty” business that only Koreans are fit to run, Mozasu’s career choice represents a rejection of the pressure to be a “good Korean” (or Japanese, for that matter). In the end, neither Noa nor Mozasu fully resists or compromises with the anti-Korean Japanese culture into which they’re born. They each resist the expectations of the dominant culture by leveraging their respective talents as best they can, but in the process, each gives something up as well—Noa tries to erase his Korean roots, and Mozasu supports a “tainted” industry.
Throughout the twentieth century, Korea and expatriate Koreans must deal with the long aftereffects of imperialism, both at home and in their ambiguous noncitizen status in Japan. Through her characters’ struggles for survival, interacting with institutions like organized crime, the Church, and the gambling industry, Lee shows how much imperialism can limit people’s choices—most often, her characters must make the best of many bad choices in order to live in peace.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Imperialism, Resistance, and Compromise ThemeTracker
Imperialism, Resistance, and Compromise Quotes in Pachinko
History has failed us, but no matter. […]
In 1910, when Hoonie was twenty-seven years old, Japan annexed Korea. The fisherman and his wife, thrifty and hardy peasants, refused to be distracted by the country’s incompetent aristocrats and corrupt rulers, who had lost their nation to thieves. When the rent for their house was raised again, the couple moved out of their bedroom and slept in the anteroom near the kitchen to increase the number of lodgers.
Isak’s silence worried Yoseb.
“The military police will harass you until you give up or die,” Yoseb said. “And your health, Isak. You have to be careful not to get sick again. I’ve seen men arrested here. It’s not like back home. The judges here are Japanese. The police are Japanese. The laws aren’t clear. And you can’t always trust the Koreans in these independence groups. There are spies who work both sides. The poetry discussion groups have spies, and there are spies in churches, too. Eventually, each activist is picked off like ripe fruit from the same stupid tree. They’ll force you to sign a confession. Do you understand?”
“The police arrested them this morning—when everyone went to the Shinto shrine to bow, one of the village leaders noticed Hu mouthing the words of the Lord’s Prayer when they were supposed to be pledging allegiance to the Emperor. The police officer who was supervising questioned Hu, and Hu told him that this ceremony was idol worshipping and he wouldn’t do it anymore. Pastor Yoo tried to tell the police that the boy was misinformed, and that lie didn’t mean anything by it, but Hu refused to agree with Pastor Yoo. Pastor Baek tried to explain, too, but Hu said he was willing to walk into the furnace. Just like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego! Do you know that story?”
Did Koreans want Japan to win? Hell no, but what would happen to them if Japan’s enemies won? Could the Koreans save themselves? Apparently not. So save your own ass—this was what Koreans believed privately. Save your family. Feed your belly. Pay attention, and be skeptical of the people in charge. If the Korean nationalists couldn’t get their country back, then let your kids learn Japanese and try to get ahead. Adapt. Wasn’t it as simple as that? For every patriot fighting for a free Korea, or for any unlucky Korean bastard fighting on behalf of Japan, there were ten thousand compatriots on the ground and elsewhere who were just trying to eat. In the end, your belly was your emperor.
“What else can we do but persevere, my child? We’re meant to increase our talents. The thing that would make your appa happy is if you do as well as you’ve been doing. Wherever you go, you represent our family, and you must be an excellent person—at school, in town, and in the world. No matter what anyone says. Or does,” Isak said, then paused to cough. He knew it must be taxing for the child to go to a Japanese school. “You must be a diligent person with a humble heart. Have compassion for everyone. Even your enemies. Do you understand that, Noa? Men may be unfair, but the Lord is fair. You’ll see. You will,” Isak said, his exhausted voice tapering off.
“Yes, appa.” Hoshii-sensei had told him that he had a duty to Koreans, too; one day, he would serve his community and make Koreans good children of the benevolent Emperor.
“How did I know that you needed work? How did I know where Noa goes to school, that his math teacher is a Korean who pretends to be Japanese, that your husband died because he didn’t get out of prison in time, and that you’re alone in this world. How did I know how to keep my family safe? It’s my job to know what others don’t. How did you know to make kimchi and sell it on a street corner to earn money? You knew because you wanted to live. I want to live, too, and if I want to live, I have to know things others don’t. Now, I’m telling you something valuable. I’m telling you something so you can save your sons’ lives. Don’t waste this information. The world can go to hell, but you need to protect your sons.”
“I’m a businessman. And I want you to be a businessman. And whenever you go to these meetings, I want you to think for yourself, and I want you to think about promoting your own interests no matter what. All these people—both the Japanese and the Koreans […] keep thinking about the group. But here’s the truth: There’s no such thing as a benevolent leader. I protect you because you work for me. If you act like a fool and go against my interests, then I can’t protect you. […] You lived with that farmer Tamaguchi who sold sweet potatoes for obscene prices to starving Japanese during a time of war. He violated wartime regulations, and I helped him, because he wanted money and I do, too. He probably thinks he’s a decent, respectable Japanese, or some kind of proud nationalist—don’t they all? He’s a terrible Japanese, but a smart businessman. I’m not a good Korean, and I’m not a Japanese. […] So I’m not going to tell you not to go to any meetings or not to join any group. But know this: Those communists don’t care about you. They don’t care about anybody. You’re crazy if you think they care about Korea.”
Mozasu knew he was becoming one of the bad Koreans. Police officers often arrested Koreans for stealing or home brewing. Every week, someone on his street got in trouble with the police. Noa would say that because some Koreans broke the law, everyone got blamed. On every block in Ikaino, there was a man who beat his wife, and there were girls who worked in bars who were said to take money for favors. Noa said that Koreans had to raise themselves up by working harder and being better. Mozasu just wanted to hit everyone who said mean things.
Mozasu couldn’t imagine being so quiet all the time; he would miss the bustle of the pachinko parlor. He loved all the moving pieces of his large, noisy business. His Presbyterian minister father had believed in a divine design, and Mozasu believed that life was like this game where the player could adjust the dials yet also expect the uncertainty of factors he couldn’t control. He understood why his customers wanted to play something that looked fixed but which also left room for randomness and hope.
Noa stared at her. She would always believe that he was someone else, that he wasn’t himself but some fanciful idea of a foreign person; she would always feel like she was someone special because she had condescended to be with someone everyone else hated. His presence would prove to the world that she was a good person, an educated person, a liberal person. Noa didn’t care about being Korean when he was with her; in fact, he didn’t care about being Korean or Japanese with anyone. He wanted to be, to be just himself, whatever that meant; he wanted to forget himself sometimes. But that wasn’t possible. It would never be possible with her.
“Yakuza are the filthiest people in Japan. They are thugs; they are common criminals. They frighten shopkeepers; they sell drugs; they control prostitution; and they hurt innocent people. All the worst Koreans are members of these gangs. I took money for my education from a yakuza, and you thought this was acceptable? I will never be able to wash this dirt from my name. You can’t be very bright,” he said. “How can you make something clean from something dirty? And now, you have made me dirty,” Noa said quietly, as if he was learning this as he was saying it to her. “All my life, I have had Japanese telling me that my blood is Korean— that Koreans are angry, violent, cunning, and deceitful criminals. All my life, I had to endure this. I tried to be as honest and humble as Baek Isak was; I never raised my voice. But this blood, my blood is Korean, and now I learn that my blood is yakuza blood. I can never change this, no matter what I do. It would have been better if I were never born. How could you have ruined my life? How could you be so imprudent? A foolish mother and a criminal father. I am cursed.”
The marriage was a stable one, and eight years passed quickly. The couple did not quarrel. Noa did not love Risa in the way he had his college girlfriend, but that was a good thing, he thought. Never again, he swore, would he be that vulnerable to another person. Noa remained careful around his new family. Though he valued his wife and children as a kind of second chance, in no way did he see his current life as a rebirth. Noa carried the story of his life as a Korean like a dark, heavy rock within him. Not a day passed when he didn’t fear being discovered.
“It is hopeless. I cannot change his fate. He is Korean. He has to get those papers, and he has to follow all the steps of the law perfectly. Once, at a ward office, a clerk told me that I was a guest in his country.”
“You and Solomon were born here.”
“Yes, my brother, Noa, was born here, too. And now he is dead.” Mozasu covered his face with his hands.
Etsuko sighed.
“Anyway, the clerk was not wrong. And this is something Solomon must understand. We can be deported. We have no motherland. Life is full of things he cannot control so he must adapt. My boy has to survive.”
“Japan will never change. […] The zainichi can’t leave, nee? But it’s not just you. Japan will never take people like my mother back into society again; it will never take back people like me. And we’re Japanese! I’m diseased. I got this from some Japanese guy who owned an old trading company. He’s dead now. But nobody cares. The doctors here, even, they just want me to go away. So listen, Solomon, you should stay here and not go back to the States, and you should take over your papa’s business. Become so rich that you can do whatever you want. But, my beautiful Solomon, they’re never going to think we’re okay. Do you know what I mean?” Hana stared at him. “Do what I tell you to do.”
