My father and mother got divorced when I was four. During the weekends my brother and I would spend “quality time” with him, that is until he disappeared for several years. I was around eight-years-old. I don’t remember the day when he reappeared. He claims he knew where I was and what I was doing at all times, that he was the one to help me get into the high school I wanted to get into, among other things. Arguing with him about it isn’t worth it to me. I let him believe that being omniscient was better than being tangible. We all know that is never the case. We all know that, to be of benefit, fathers must be present, engaged, and willing to sacrifice selfishness for sustained involvement. In my case, my dad’s selfishness prevailed. As it pertains to the character, Father, in Kyung-Sook Shin’s new novel I Went to See My Father, translated by Anton Hur, the line is more blurred than in my case — and that ambiguity adds to the dramatic tension throughout Shin’s narrative. When a parent is absent, there is rarely conflict, only emptiness; but when the parent is transient or nomadic, that is when struggles are inevitable. How does one manage impermanence and, in the case of this novel, secrecy?
Hon, the protagonist of I Went to See My Father, returns to the South Korean countryside, to her childhood home in J–, to see her aged father after losing her daughter two years prior in an accident. Upon arriving, she notices Father is frail and weepy. No longer is he the strong farmer who tilled the land around his family’s property. He cries at just about anything, sorely missing his dead pet parrot, wandering off and around his property, and wondering if his deceased sister is going to come back to visit. He has aged and is feeble, much to Hon’s dismay and surprise, who now must figure out what needs to be done. Then, while searching for her father, Hon discovers an old wooden chest of letters in a broken-down, cluttered building on the property. Remembering the chest from her father’s past, she discovers that it holds a information about Father’s family history and his well-kept secrets. Hon reminisces, “Whenever I thought about Father, I would think of this wooden chest. I had not seen it since I moved to the city, so I thought Father must have left the chest behind in the store when he sold it, but I never got around to asking him. To think the chest was here all this time … Whatever it contained, the chest was heavy.”
But I Went to See My Father is not just a novel about one elderly man’s slow declines, but also about one child and teenager’s harrowing experience during a tumultuous time in Korean history. What begins as a family melodrama becomes a fascinating piece of historical fiction, portraying South Korean history in the 1930’s, the Japanese Occupation to follow, and the Korean War. Very much like most novels of this genre, the work becomes a character study devoted to how one survives personal and political change. What makes Shin’s novel unique are the timelines she adheres to as the story goes back and forth between Father and Eldest Brother’s written correspondences, Father’s time as a teenager during war, his life as a father and husband, and the present moments when he is being taken care of by his inquisitive, stubborn, and grateful daughter. Although Father is not hiding a nefarious past filled with intrigue and mayhem, Hon does learn how Father was able to provide so much for the family during a precarious time — as well as a possible affair during his business trips. These insights derive from the letters, not from him, and she is forced to wonder why.
Hon theorizes that her father did not want to expose his family to his fears and flaws. For example, Hon was surprised to hear that he was “terrified … to watch his children eat” because of the amount of money that was needed to feed them all. “At the time, we ate today while worrying about tomorrow.” As Hon rightly tells herself, Father is simply a human being — and we are forced to admit that our parents, as infuriating as they may be and with as many issues as they may have, are human beings who are just as introspective and damaged as anyone. Furthermore, the damage largely derives from the environment and the circumstances they have lived and do live through. Shin presents Father’s uncertainties in a somewhat convoluted but powerful way; the plot is not linear and the context is sometimes confusing, but it does not hinder the ultimate effects. The timeline jumps from present to past and back several times; however, generally more so through the clear points of view, readers are aware of the characters’ surroundings. Shin, who has written other novels with a similar set-up and premise, such as Please Look After Mom (2009), is practiced at keeping her readers on track.
Shin’s profound and passionate love for her home country and its traditions is manifest. Although she lived through several decades when the South Korean government, in its many iterations, had little respect for its own citizens, Shin expresses respect for the people who reside and work in the country’s urban centers and rural towns. Circumstance, economics, and politics may loom in the background but, in the long run, Shin’s work is about the everyday conflicts regular folks endure. Father may have an enigmatic past but Shin also portrays him as a traditionalist who religiously adheres to South Korean mores, and is a reliable provider for the entire family. In a later chapter, the point of view shifts from Hon to his many family members, all of whom answer questions as if being interviewed for a documentary (presumably Hon is interviewing them for a writing project, since she is a published author). The speakers provide illuminating and critical anecdotes about Father, second-hand narrations about a living person who offers a lot of good to his community and family despite his defects.
I Went to See My Father is a straightforward character study about one man who gave his best. However, what makes it more powerful than most other works in the genre is its perhaps obvious but persuasive attempt at countering our tendency strictly to regard our parents as defective. This leads me to one last question: Did my father give me his best? I am not sure if I can answer that question (I never asked him) but at the very least, I can be thankful and appreciative that he did try his best.
[Published by Astra House on April 11, 2023, 304pages, $27.00 hardcover]