Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

Pachinko is a compelling story of individuals who struggle to face historical catastrophes. I particularly loved the fact that it’s a story of ordinary people. 

The book starts in 1910 Korea and marks it’s end in 1990 in Japan. It is an intergenerational story of a family. Sunja, the main protagonist is a first-generation immigrant from Korea, moving to Japan post marriage, looking for better life.

I like the way the narration is omniscient: the narrator speaks from the characters point of view. Its makes for a great community narrative, which I think has worked very well for this story as there are so many stories interwoven in it. This kind of narration has made all characters come alive for me. There are clear major plot lines, but minor plot lines provide critical support to the story. Stories of the main characters looked fuller as the characters around them filled up the vacuum beautifully.

While thinking about the name of the book, Pachinko, an interesting parallel came to my mind. Gambling is illegal in Japan, so the Pachinko parlors give tokens to winners which are exchanged for money right outside the parlors. A similar fate awaits the Korean Japanese, who though have been living in Japan for generations are still not legally Japanese citizens.

The book also says, “Pachinko is a foolish game but life is not”. The question that came to my mind was, does Pachinko stand for hope in this book? It felt that perhaps the book wanted to tell me that I should never give up on hope, how much ever absurd be the possibility of winning.

Like Pachinko, the path of life for this family looked fixed, but at the same time, left room for randomness and hope. Etsuko, a Japanese is seen contemplating beautifully in the book, her father sold insurance policies to lonely Japanese housewives who couldn’t afford it. He was never shamed for his choices. However, Pachinko that created spaces where grown men and women could play pinball for money was considered a disgraceful profession. In the end, both made money from chance, fear and loneliness.

The book also exhibits that in Japan as a society, being different or flouting the norms of the society leads you to be an outcast in the society. It immediately rang true of my country too. I could finally comprehend, what people mean when it’s said that community living is an Asian thing, quite distinct from the western culture. Another interesting commonality between Indian and Korean customs that the book threw up, was the first birthday grabbing of money, pen, food or grains as an indicator of what the kid will become in future. It drove home the point on, how connected we are culturally.

Noa, Sunja’s elder son, like his adoptive father Isak, just wanted to be seen as a human, not Korean, not Japanese. He broke up with his Japanese girlfriend Akiko, as he realized, that though she sees him as a good Korean, but still the separation was real. The tags never leave him in peace, right till he dies. The book throughout showcases every character’s struggle with a dual identity.   
   
Yumi’s fascination with America sums up the plight of an immigrant life so well: “She knew of Koreans who has returned to North Korea and many more who had gone back to South, yet she could not muster any affection for either nation. To her being Korean was just another horrible encumbrance, much like being poor or having a shameful family you could not cast off. Why would she ever live there? But she could not imagine clinging to Japan, which was like a beloved step mother who refused to love you. So, Yumi dreamed of Los Angeles.   

I wish I could have written better, but this book is brilliant and I don’t want to do it disservice by summing it up. My recommendation: Pls read it!